The Quarry

39

‘Bye Ally, won’t be long!’

Vendela closed the door and walked across the gravel. She reached up towards the sky, stretching her body as she tried to grab the wispy clouds floating high above. Then she jogged over to the Mörners’ cottage and saw Per’s father sitting out on the patio, slumped in a sun lounger.

She knocked on the door. After a minute or so Per opened it a fraction, as if he was unsure who the caller might be. She thought he looked a bit uneasy, perhaps even afraid.

‘Ready?’ she said.

He looked at her. ‘Were we supposed to be going for a run today as well?’

Vendela nodded quickly. ‘That’s what we said yesterday. Have you changed your mind?’

Their arrangement seemed to have come back to him now. ‘No, I’m coming. I just need five minutes to get Jerry inside.’

It sounded as if he were talking about a pet, Vendela thought.

Ten minutes later, Per had woken his father and got him settled on the sofa indoors. Vendela could see that Jerry was still half asleep; his son placed a blanket over him and let him nod off again.

When Per had changed into his tracksuit and running shoes, they set off.

‘Same route?’

‘Fine by me,’ said Vendela.

They didn’t run as fast today, and the steadier tempo made it easier to talk.

‘Didn’t you want your father to be outside today?’ asked Vendela.

‘Yes, but not when I’m out,’ said Per. ‘I need to keep an eye on Jerry... he has a tendency to wander off.’

They carried on running, striding out and breathing evenly. It felt just as good as the last time. When they had left the buildings behind, Vendela turned to him and said, ‘You never use the word “Dad”.’

Per laughed, or he might have been panting. ‘No. We did away with all that.’ He took a deep breath and asked, ‘What about you... did you always say “Dad”?’

‘To Henry? Yes, but sometimes I said “Father” as well.’

‘But you loved him?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Vendela, looking over towards the quarry. ‘He came down here every morning and came home every evening. I think he was much happier here than he was on the farm... he enjoyed quarrying and working with the reddest limestone of all.’

‘You mean the stone from the place of blood?’ said Per. ‘I know what it is now.’

‘What it is?’

‘I know how it was formed.’ He took a deep breath and went on, ‘I was talking to Gerlof Davidsson, and he said it was a geological—’

Vendela interrupted him. ‘I don’t want to know.’

‘Why not?’

‘It takes something away... it takes away the magic.’

They didn’t speak for a while; the only sounds were the crunch of their shoes on the ground and Per’s deep breathing.

Vendela suddenly veered off to the east on impulse, on to one of the smaller gravel tracks leading up to the main road.

Per followed her. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I want to show you something,’ she said, running on ahead.

She led him along the track leading to her childhood home, and stopped by the gate. It had been a week since her last visit. The grass had grown greener and more lush, but the house was empty. There was no Volvo parked outside. The happy family who lived there had gone home to the city.

Per had also stopped; he was taking deep breaths and looking around. ‘What is this place?’

Vendela opened the gate and said, ‘You can hear my childhood sighing in the trees here.’

‘Oh?’

‘This is where I grew up,’ said Vendela, walking into the garden.

Per seemed to hesitate before following her. ‘So what was it like, living here?’ he said. ‘Was it a good childhood?’

Vendela didn’t answer for a moment; she didn’t want to say too much. And she didn’t want to think about the cows.

‘It was a bit lonely,’ she said eventually. ‘I didn’t have any friends nearby, they lived up in Marnäs. I had my father for company, and then I had...’

She fell silent and stopped in front of the overgrown foundations that showed where the little barn had stood.

Then she looked up at the house, at the middle window upstairs, and for a moment she expected to see two staring eyes up there. A face behind the glass, a raised hand and a low laugh.

Come up and see me, Vendela.

But the room behind the glass was dark and empty.