Harbor by John Lindqvist (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

the gun in one corner so that the recoil wouldn’t displace the gun, with the risk that the shot would tear him to pieces without actually finishing him off. He looked around the room, and just as he established that it would be easy to clear the corner behind the nets, he became aware of his own selfishness.

It’s their wedding day.

But he couldn’t wait. He carefully put down the gun and lifted up the first of the nets.

You can wait. You can wait one day.

He stopped with the net folded over his arm and shook his head.

You have to. However hard it might be. For their sake. You can’t do this to them.

He knew it was true. With the net pressed against his chest he waited for the darkness to pounce, to punish him for his hesitation. But it didn’t come. It trusted him. It could wait.

Tomorrow.

He knew that Simon and Anna-Greta were going on their little honeymoon to Finland the following day. He could do it then. And he could also show them the consideration of not doing it here, in their house. That would be inestimably selfish, and besides he knew exactly where it should be done, the perfect place for gifts and sacrifices.

Gently he moved the cock back and hid the loaded gun behind the nets, went back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee while he waited for Simon.

Simon didn’t come.

It had been agreed that they would catch the one o’clock boat together, but it got to half-past twelve, quarter to one and there was no sign of Simon. Anders thought he must have misunderstood in his preoccupied state the previous evening, and that they were supposed to meet at the jetty.

He would pretend to be alive for one more day, for their sake. Then that would be an end to his consideration for others. It was bad enough that they would find out when they came back from their trip, but it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t carry on living just to make them happy.

But he would pretend for one more day, so while he smoked a cigarette he checked his appearance in the hall mirror to see if he would pass muster for a wedding. The white shirt and trousers were slightly too big for him, but the shoes were a surprisingly good fit. On the coat hooks he found one of Simon’s old jackets and pulled it on.

When he closed the door behind him to be welcomed by yet another grey, overcast day, he thought he could probably get through this too. The gun was loaded and ready, it was only a matter of perhaps twenty hours before it would be put to use.

For the moment the darkness seemed satisfied that the preparations had been carried out, and it even took its eyes off him a couple of times as he made his way down to the steamboat jetty.

Simon wasn’t there either. There were about twenty people gathered on the jetty, all dressed up in their best clothes and all on their way to Nåten and the wedding, but the bridegroom was missing. Anders went over to Elof Lundberg. He was wearing a very grand overcoat, which didn’t go with the inevitable cap at all.

‘Have you seen Simon?’

‘No,’ said Elof. ‘Isn’t he already there, then?’

‘Yes. I suppose he is.’

Anders moved away and tried to remember what Simon had said.

He was going to look for water at Göran’s place, wasn’t he?

Anders looked around, but Göran wasn’t on the jetty either. He wasn’t proud of it, but a terrible little hope flickered into life within Anders: something had happened. Something that would mean the wedding had to be postponed. Something that would allow him to go back to the hidey-hole today, after all.

The tender glided alongside and there was chattering and laughteras the wedding guests climbed aboard. As it reversed out Anders stood in the prow, looking over towards Simon’s jetty. Perhaps he had taken his own boat over to Nåten?

But the boat was by the jetty, and there was no sign of the bridegroom anywhere.

Proof of eligibility

Anders stayed in the prow for the whole crossing and didn’t speak to anyone; when they hove to he was the first one off, and walked quickly towards the church. Behind him came the wedding guests, chattering noisily.

Nåten church was in a beautiful spot on a small hill close to the sea, and the churchyard covered the entire slope down to the shore, where the emblematic anchor that adorned every written communication from the church lay like a brake, as if to stop the headstones and crosses from tumbling down into the sea.

The wedding ceremony wasn’t due to start for half an hour. Anders guessed that those who were about to be married would usually wait for the exact moment in the community centre beyond the churchyard gate. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he stepped inside.

Two long tables were laid for the guests, and an extravagantly decorated buffet was displayed on a smaller table in the middle of the room. He could hear women’s voices from behind a door at the far end.

She has to be told.

The sound of the guests’ voices was getting closer. Anders walked to the other end of the room, tapped on the door and opened it.

Despite the fact that he was committed to death and that nothing mattered any more, he couldn’t help but be taken aback at the sight of his grandmother in her wedding finery.

Anna-Greta’s long, grey hair had been arranged in a wave-like style that caught the pale light from the window, so that it poured down over her in cascades of silver. The white flowers on her beige dress reinforced the impression of a borrowed starlit glow that reached all the way up to her forehead. Her face had been skilfully made up to bring out the sparkle in her eyes.

Next to her, two