At this point on a friday night events would unravel one of two ways.

One. A neighbour like say allanberg turned up bringing a bottle of hooch and a deck of cards. Consequence. We were forgotten and father amused himself with the cards booze and bickering with the neighbour until he needed to be led into the bedroom where he would fall asleep in his dayclothes. 54

Two. No neighbour turned up with spirits and a deck of cards. Consequence. When there was no male around for card games father made do with mother. She embroidered her endless tablecloths and said her endless prayers while listening to father telling her about his struggles at work as a foreman in a port some thirtyodd kilometres down south. During the week he slept in a workman’s cabin. He was someone to reckon with. Chosen after all to boss people around. The others never seemed to get anything right.

Mother would hum and mumble yes if it suited and no if it suited and filled his empty glass. She was his wailing wall and seemed not to mind. At some point or another during these evenings a mumbled no would become a mumbled yes and then war broke out. A war against an undersized weak enemy who submitted before the first battle was fought.

Bror and I were lying low in the maid’s room hoping to be able to do something or at least understand what was going on and it was harder for bror. He felt for mother. I hated both of them. The sounds of blows as fist struck cheekbone travelled through the wall. I cupped my hands over his ears to stop him from hearing.

I heard mother whimper but never cry out. Her restrained sobbing stuck in the throat like a clump of gall all the while father took and gave what he saw as his rights.

By then. When they had got to the endgame and one side had suffered blood loss but survived I made bror come upstairs with me. We crawled into my bed put out the light and told each other about our real parents who had lost us and were still trying to find us. They lived somewhere exciting like ume or maybe even stockholm. In one of the rooms in their house they kept the unopened christmas and birthday presents from all the years we had been kippos. We were waiting for a miracle. 55

It was our turn on saturday. Mother woke us at five thirty in the morning always saying the same thing.

Hiding her bruised face with a headscarf and sunglasses. Pretending she was going to visit in a better class of place. Are you two both lying here. Haven’t you got rooms of your own. Your dad is waiting in the yard. Get dressed now and out you go.