Then what I asked. Why did they leave without even clearing away the breakfast things.

Didn’t you know he said again. They drove through the village and collided with the milklorry. Only the little girl survived. It was several weeks before they got hold of her mother’s sister who was their only relative. She got a few bits and pieces but most of the furniture was johansson’s. I never saw any dog round there.

I should have heard about them. A whole family dead. The kind of thing people talked about for generations. Like the fire in john’s hayloft. I should have heard about that too.

They kept themselves to themselves john said. Maybe that’s why they were so quickly forgotten. 72

Not all of them I said somehow certain I had guessed right. The girl who survived was maria. Wasn’t she. Yes he said and put in a wad of snuff.

I wanted to hear more about maria but my mind was buzzing like a fly in a spider’s net. What happened to maria when the others died. Did she stay in the village.

No he said. Her aunt took care of her. More than twenty years later she returned and moved into the same house.

And met you.

And met me. We lived here until she wanted a divorce. Then I moved home again.

But it wasn’t you who killed her. No I didn’t he said. Everything points to her having taken her own life.

In the car on the way back my thigh was warmed by his hand resting on my knee.

Will you stay he asked without looking at me. I said I had things to do.

73

FOURTEEN

The passing days made my old life feel increasingly distant. I had gone to lule for a quick visit. Packed the most essential things and asked oxfam to take the rest.

I would never return anyway. I’m not the kind of person who stays on. I slip away as soon as something begins to stick.

One morning the snow had disappeared apart from the drifts on the shady side. It was early but still the thermometer showed fourteen degrees. Bror and I took our cups of coffee outside to sit on the veranda.

I maybe will stay on here for a bit if it’s ok with you I said.

Kippofarm is yours just as much he said and flicked a fagend away.

I hadn’t asked him about maria even though I wanted to know. It wasn’t because she was our sister. An unknown dead sister had no function. But wherever I was so was maria. When I was with john. Visiting the oldies in their homes. In bror’s imagination. I couldn’t stop myself from comparing her and me. My personality was the opposite of hers. It seldom left an imprint.