Bror sat on the kitchen sofa, eyeing me indifferently. He kept swigging bottled beer. When one bottle was empty he got another one from the larder. Maybe I was too late.

I heard you slept over at eskilbrännström’s he said.

You mean at john’s I countered hoping he would say more but he just shut his taciturn mouth tight and carried on staring out into the dangerous infinity.

I sat down next to him. Took the bottle from him and drank a mouthful of the tepid beer.

Do you know john I asked.

Sure everybody knows him bror replied. 17

I don’t I said.

He hasn’t been living there for all that long bror said.

Could be I said and then reconnected with reality. You have no food in the house. We must go shopping.

He leaned against me and if I hadn’t known my brother so well I might have thought he was crying.

He smelled badly of grief and sweat. I put my arm around him and stroked his hair as I had done in the past. It will be all right I said. It will be all right.

18

THREE

I reversed the jeep out of the garage and tied the rubbish bags onto the trailer. Bror was taking his time.

At last he opened the door to let the cat out. It looked around then slunk down to hide under the veranda.

After the cat bror came out with the hood of his jacket pulled down over his head. He looked around then slipped into the passenger seat. Pushed frantically at all the buttons to start the heater.

His skin was pale grey. Even his freckles had faded. His hair was unkempt and greasy. He pulled strands back behind his ears over and over again.

It was slippery after the snowfall and the car lurched a bit going downhill. At the side road to eskilbrännström’s I slowed down to a crawl to look for tracks in the snow. The private road was innocently smooth.

You know nothing about john said bror. He isn’t a bad man but you know nothing whatever about him.

No I don’t and he knows nothing about me I said. Well nothing except that I murdered my father but I guess everyone knows that.

Yes said my brother everyone knows that. Though he didn’t die.

People stared at us as usual. Stopped short and scrutinised the diptych facing them until they realised they were ogling and went back to checking prices and bestbeforedates. It was hardly bigger than a village shop, a small ica grocer’s. We always called 19the family that managed it the icanders even though it wasn’t their proper name.