Free Sun Storm by Åsa Larsson Page B

always thought you were pretty. But now you look as if you’ve come straight out of one of those TV series. Your hair looks great too. I just let mine grow wild, then cut it myself.”
    Sanna ran her fingers through her thick, pale curls with an air of self-assurance.
    I know, Sanna, thought Rebecka angrily. I know that you’re the fairest in all the land. And that’s without spending a fortune on haircuts and clothes.
    “Can’t you just chat a bit,” whined Sanna. “I feel absolutely terrible, but I did say sorry. And I’m just rigid with fear. Feel my hands, they’re freezing.”
    She took one hand out of its sheepskin glove and reached toward Rebecka.
    She’s not right in the head, thought Rebecka furiously, keeping her hands firmly clamped on the wheel. She’s totally fucking crazy.
    Feel my hand, Rebecka, it’s shaking. It’s really cold. I love you so much, Rebecka. If you were a boy I’d fall in love with you, did you know that?
    “That’s a nice dog you’ve got,” said Rebecka, making an effort to keep her voice calm.
    Sanna drew back her hand.
    “Yes,” she said. “Virku. The girls love her. We got her from a Sami lad we know. His father wasn’t looking after her properly. Not when he was drinking, at any rate. But he didn’t manage to ruin her. She’s such a happy dog, and so obedient. And she really loves Sara, did you notice that? How she keeps putting her head on Sara’s knee. It’s really nice, because the girls have been so unlucky with pets over the last year or so.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes—well, I don’t know if ‘unlucky’ is the right word. Sometimes they’re just so irresponsible. I don’t know what it is with them. Last spring the rabbit escaped because Sara hadn’t shut the cage door properly. And she just refused to admit it was her fault. Then we got a cat. And in the autumn that disappeared. Although that was nothing to do with Sara, of course. That’s just the way it is with cats that live outside. It probably got run over or something. We’ve had gerbils that have disappeared as well. I daren’t think where they’ve gone. They’re probably living in the walls and under the floor, slowly but surely chewing the house to bits. But Sara and Lova, they drive me mad. Like before, when Lova got soap and washing-up liquid all over herself and the dog. And Sara just sits there watching, not taking any responsibility. I just can’t cope. Lova’s always making a mess. Anyway, let’s talk about something less depressing.”
    “Just look at the Aurora Borealis,” said Rebecka, leaning forward over the steering wheel and glancing up at the sky.
    “It’s been amazing this winter. It’s because there are storms on the sun, I’m sure that’s why. Doesn’t it make you want to move back up here?”
    “No, maybe—oh, I don’t know!”
    Rebecka laughed.
    The Crystal Church could be seen in the distance. It looked like a spaceship, hovering in the sky above the streetlights. Soon the houses were much closer together as the country road turned into an urban street. Rebecka dipped her headlights.
    “Are you happy down there?” asked Sanna.
    “I’m nearly always working,” answered Rebecka.
    “What about the people, though?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t feel at home with them, if that’s what you’re asking. It feels as if I’m moving away from simple relationships all the time. You learn to look in the right direction when you drink a toast, and to write and say thank you for inviting me within the accepted time limit, but you can’t hide who you are. So you feel just a little bit like an outsider all the time. And you always feel a little bit resentful of society people, the ones with money. You never really know what they think of you. They’re so bloody nice to everybody, whether they like a person or not. At least up here you know where you are with people.”
    “Do you?” asked Sanna.
    They fell silent, each lost in her own thoughts. They passed the