He lay with his weathered, sunken face turned toward the door, and there was a prick in Vera’s heart when she saw him. It was as if he had grown smaller since last week. Her most recent visit had been the day after the operation, and since then his skin had turned yellowish. The whites of his eyes were yellowed too. But he smiled genuinely as he kissed his wife on both cheeks. When that was over, he noticed Vera. She patted him awkwardly on the cheek.

‘Hi Dad,’ she shouted. ‘You look fresh.’

‘What’d you say?’

She shouted it even louder, and he rose up on his elbow with a painful grimace.

‘I feel pretty good,’ he said. ‘I’m thinking I can go home in a couple of days.’

His breathing was fast, and her mother sank down in a chair, observing him with a deeply concerned expression. She looked up at the board over his bed.

‘He’s in a bad way,’ she said to Vera. ‘His pulse is all the way up to eighty.’

‘That’s totally normal,’ she answered, irritated. ‘He doesn’t even have a fever.’

When she couldn’t find anything to say to him, Vera just smiled cheerfully. It was a shared room. In the other bed lay a man with his mouth open, his gaze directed stiffly at the ceiling. Her mother had said he almost always looked like that. He had come from a mental hospital and would be going back. No one ever came to visit him.

Her father lay back down on his pillow. They had removed a tumor from his hip. The doctors had told Villy it was benign. But they probably always said that to the family. The operation had gone well, they said, considering his advanced age.

‘How did you get here?’ he asked in a weak voice.

‘Taxi,’ yelled her mother in his ear. ‘I told Vera it was too expensive, but Asger didn’t have time to drive us, and you know how I feel about trolleys.’

‘Right,’ he whispered, glancing somewhat reproachfully at Vera, who stood leaning in, at the foot of the bed.

‘Your mother gets all confused,’ he said a bit louder and with obvious effort. ‘She can’t find her way around town at night. The trolleys drive her crazy.’

‘Well, thank goodness for Villy and Asta,’ said her mother, taking off her hat. Her head started to tremble more, as if its stabilizer had been removed.

It was hot, and Vera unbuttoned her coat. How was she going to avoid having to invite her mother in for a cup of coffee when they got back? Last time, Villy had taken care of it. Her mother couldn’t stand being alone. She didn’t go to bed until the middle of the night and she slept with the light on.