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this, but rather some kind of barrenness. But all the preconceptions she had vividly held during the weeks of expectation and anxiety had now evaporated.
    They went over to their cases and sat down to wait. On the other side of the road, grassy slopes were gleaming in the sun, the colours of the meadow flowers brighter than she had ever seen before. Opposite the store was a modern house, boxlike, painted green and dark brown. As the house was on a steep slope, the basement was high. In it was a small fishing-tackle shop with the name Fiskebua in pokerwork on a board outside and a Swedish flag hanging from a flagpole protruding from the wall. They could just see a man inside, so Annie took Mia’s hand and crossed the road.
    The door was locked, but he opened up when she knocked. He had no soft drinks for sale, but he said Mia was welcome to some homemade juice. He refused to let Annie pay for the juice and buns he fetched from the kitchen upstairs, but she had to satisfy his curiosity.
    He had greying hair brushed forwards, long at the back and round his ears, and his trousers were flared. She thought he looked idiotic, almost indecent in those tightly cut trousers, but the fashion had penetrated all the way up here, and she hadn’t expected that, either. He looked exhausted, with slack, baggy creases under his eyes, his nose big, the pores on it enlarged, his eyelids heavy. But he seemed anything but tired.
    She told him as little as possible – that they were to be picked up and that they were on their way up to Nilsbodarna. He asked if she meant Nirsbuan. What was she going to do there?
    ‘We’re going to live there,’ said Mia abruptly. Up to then she had drunk her juice and eaten the buns without a sound. He laughed. Annie never forgot that laugh.
    ‘Are you one of the Starhill people?’ he said suddenly.
    ‘We come from Stockholm,’ she replied. But his guess wasn’t far wrong. It was thanks to the commune at Starhill that Dan had found Nilsbodarna.
    ‘Oh, so you’re taking Nirsbuan from the Brandbergs. That won’t be easy, I guess,’ he said, grinning. She didn’t understand what he meant. She didn’t like him, and now she didn’t want to talk about their circumstances any more.
    They heard a car and Mia rushed over to the window, but it wasn’t Dan. Four men got out of large Volvo which had driven up by the house, the tyres scattering gravel. They were really three young men and a boy who was driving. He looked scarcely eighteen. A smell of aftershave and liquor wafted from them as they entered the shop. One of them was dressed in white and had muddy marks on his trousers, as if someone had kicked him. The trousers were tight, the material thin. Annie could see his genitals quite clearly outlined against his thigh and had to avert her eyes when he looked at her. They were dressed for the Midsummer events; once again she saw that fashion was being followed up here, and she felt childish with all her preconceived ideas.
    They filled the little shop with their large bodies and loud voices, but fell silent when they saw her, as if no longer aware of what they had come for. They weren’t interested in fishing tackle, nor in the rack of chocolates and evening papers.
    ‘Yes, well then,’ said the man behind the counter, looking straight at Annie. She realised he didn’t want them in there any longer and that made her feel ill at ease. She took Mia’s hand and went out. The moment she had closed the door she heard the voices raised again.
    Mia wanted to pee and they went down among the currant bushes. There was still no sign of Dan and it wasn’t as quiet as before. A bus had driven up in front of the community centre and musical instruments and large amplifiers were being unloaded from it.
    She had considered sitting with Mia on the porch steps of the abandoned house to wait, but insects kept emerging out of the grass, almost invisible creatures which stung like sparks from a fire. Mia started crying.