Free Bogman by R.I. Olufsen Page B

come to me. If I remember, I call you for sure.” He stowed the photograph in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Good luck.”
    Eddy was standing at the bar. Katrine joined him.  
    “I’ve shown the badge to every Swedish person here. I’ve pinned a photo of it up there.” She pointed to a notice board on the wall.  
    The barman slid two glasses of beer towards Eddy.  
    “The boss is waiting for his beer,” said Eddy. I’ve bought you one as well, Skaarup.”  
    They went outside.  
    “Well done, Skaarup,” said Tobias. “Good thinking.” He raised his glass in salute. “Cheers.”  
    From inside the bar came the sound of a band tuning up.  
    “I like country music,” said Eddy. “Gambling, cheating, drinking, jealousy, murder, loss.”  

Saturday: Week One

    14.

    Tobias needed luck to get out of the steep-sided bunker guarding the ninth green at Skovlynd. He had driven his ball safely over the lake, only to see it drop into the sand. Sofie, his playing partner, had driven two balls in succession into the water before giving up with a shrug and a cheery call to Tobias, “It’s up to you now, partner.” The other two golfers in the fourball – Norbert and a former colleague of Sofie’s called Hannah who was an excellent, if taciturn, golfer – had driven their balls to the rough grass at the edge of the green and were still a long way from the flag. Tobias steadied himself, hovered the club over the sand behind the ball, muttered to himself, “keep your head down,” and swung the wedge. The ball flew up in a flurry of sand, cleared the edge of the bunker, landed on the green and rolled to within half a metre of the flag.  
    Hannah and Norbert chipped their balls to within two metres of the flag, but missed their putts. Tobias confidently sank his ball.  
    “Good par,” said Norbert. “Keep this up and you’ll win a prize.”
    “Only in the raffle,” said Tobias.  
    But from then on, every ball he hit flew straight and true. He had never played better. Four hours later, he and Sofie stood on a podium to receive third prizes in the competition – a pink cashmere golf sweater for Sofie, a navy cashmere golf sweater for Tobias, a bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal each – from one of the stars of a television soap opera who now shook Tobias vigorously by the hand. Tobias had seen the man’s face in the newspapers but had never watched the show. A photographer bounded forward to capture the actor kissing Sofie on the cheek.  
    Sofie blew kisses and smiled and acknowledged congratulations as they weaved their way back through the tables to their seats.  
    “You seem to know everybody in the room,” said Tobias.  
    “Of course I do. I’m in PR. It’s my job.” Sofie returned a wave from the deputy leader of the Centre party.    
    When they finally got back to their seats, there were more congratulatory hugs and handshakes from Norbert and Hannah.  
    The dining room in the clubhouse was laid out in long rectangular tables each seating twelve guests. Tobias sat opposite Sofie at one end of a table. Norbert and Hannah sat beside them.   At the other end of the table, Tobias recognised the mayor of Aarhus and a politician in the Green Party called Nicholas Hove who exchanged a cordial salute with Norbert.  
    “Hove has changed his tune,” said Norbert quietly. “He was one of the protesters who wanted to stop this golf course being built.”  
    Tobias glanced at the apple-cheeked man in the too-tight dinner jacket.  
    “Kurt invited him because of his wind farm project. And also because he’s going into politics,” said Sofie. “You never know whose support you’re going to need in a coalition.”
    “True enough,” said Tobias, absentmindedly. He was thinking about Agnes. Was she still camping out in the forest? At least the weather was better. It hadn’t rained all day and the wind was from the south.  
    “If the way to a man’s vote is through his stomach,