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Chapters (85)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Joakim Zander
  3. THE FRIEND
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. Dedication
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 5 August
  10. 21 November
  11. 5 August
  12. 21 November
  13. 5 August
  14. 21 November
  15. 12 August
  16. 21 November
  17. 14 August
  18. 21 November
  19. 17–22 August
  20. 22 November
  21. 24 August
  22. 22 November
  23. 7 September–16 October
  24. 22 November
  25. 16 October
  26. 22 November
  27. 20 October
  28. 22 November
  29. 20 October–13 November
  30. 22 November
  31. 13–14 November
  32. 22 November
  33. 14 November
  34. 22 November
  35. 14 November
  36. 23 November
  37. 14 November
  38. 2
  39. 23 November
  40. 14 November
  41. 23 November
  42. 14–15 November
  43. 23 November
  44. 15 November
  45. 23–24 November
  46. 15 November
  47. 24 November
  48. 15–21 November
  49. 24 November
  50. 21 November
  51. 24 November
  52. 23 November
  53. 24 November
  54. 23 November
  55. 24 November
  56. 24 November
  57. 24 November
  58. 24 November
  59. 24 November
  60. 3
  61. 24 November
  62. 24 November
  63. 24 November
  64. 24 November
  65. 25 November
  66. 25 November
  67. 25 November
  68. 25 November
  69. 25 November
  70. 25 November
  71. 25 November
  72. 25 November
  73. 25 November
  74. 25 November
  75. 25 November
  76. 25 November
  77. 25 November
  78. 25 November
  79. 25 November
  80. 25 November
  81. 26 November
  82. 26 November
  83. 26–28 November
  84. Acknowledgements
  85. An Invitation from the Publisher

His mother is lying on the stained couch. On the coffee table are some leaflets and a half-eaten chocolate cake, an empty pack of cigarettes, a full ashtray, an empty bottle of gin, a couple of beer cans. He turns around to see where Yassim went – he felt so real just a moment ago, there in the stairs. But he’s disappeared again. It’s just Jacob and his mother here now, and he goes over to the window, finds the handle and opens it. A cold wind swirls into the apartment, making the dirty curtains flutter.

He turns to his mother just as she’s opening her eyes and starts to sit up on the couch.

‘Matti?’ she says. ‘Matti, is that you?’

Jacob goes over to the couch and squats down beside her. She looks at him with cloudy, tired eyes, her skin grey, her hair thin.

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘It’s me.’

Acknowledgements

Thank you to:

My wonderful American and English publishers Jennifer Barth and Laura Palmer

My excellent translator Liz Clark Wessel

My Swedish publisher Helene Atterling

My friend and agent Astri von Arbin Ahlander

My careful, smart and patient Swedish editor Jacob Swedberg

My German publisher Nina Grabe who pushed me forward

My friend Tobias Almborg for the trip to Beirut, without which there would be no book

My brother Daniel Zander for all the tips and contacts in Beirut

My guide to Beirut from a distance, Professor Leif Stenberg

My invaluable contact at American University in Beirut, Rami Khouri

My guide into the heart of young, political Beirut, Dima Tannir

My friend Johan Jarnvik, like always

My parents for all the security and help

My Moa for everything

An Invitation from the Publisher

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