Harbor by John Lindqvist (no david read aloud TXT) 📗

from Nåten, who had popped up again, ‘Kalle, he’s here! You can stop looking!’

‘What the hell!’ shouted Kalle from down in the water, and a collective paralysis was broken. First came laughter, and then the applause broke out. It echoed across the whole area like the beating wings of a flock of birds lifting from the surface of the water, and it seemed as if it would never end.

People came forward and patted Simon as if he were their greatest treasure, rescued at long last from the bottom of the sea. Kalle’s attitude was somewhat less positive as he hauled himself up on to the jetty with his teeth chattering. Simon had obviously foreseen this situation, because he brought a bottle of decent schnapps out of the boathouse and offered Kalle a drink or two to help him thaw out, which he gratefully accepted. After quarter of an hour he was the most enthusiastic admirer of Simon’s feat.

People stood around the boathouse where the two men were sitting side by side on the steps. They laughed at Kalle, who wastipsy from the schnapps and the rollercoaster of emotions he had gone through in such quick succession, as he flung his arms out in Simon’s direction and shouted, ‘This man was bloody well trussed up like… like I don’t know what, and I did it myself! Maybe I’m sitting here with a ghost!’ He grabbed hold of Simon’s shoulder. ‘How the hell did you do that?’

Simon said ‘Boo!’ and everyone laughed again.

Anna-Greta was still standing out on the jetty with Johan. A lifetime of trade had taught her the art of manipulating people’s emotions, but it seemed as if she had met her match. Simon’s humiliation as he stood there in chains on the jetty had been transferred to Kalle, when he jumped into the sea in a misguided attempt at heroism. Then Simon had skilfully restored the balance by drawing Kalle into the glow of his achievement. Now there was only joy.

Nice, thought Anna-Greta. Polished.

She was relieved, she was confused, she was angry. Mostly angry. She’d been conned. Simon had made her behave like a fool in front of all these people. Not that anyone appeared to have noticed, but she knew. She had lost control. Hypothetically speaking, she could have screamed. She hadn’t, fortunately. But the barb was there, and she was annoyed.

‘Wasn’t that brilliant?’ said Johan.

Anna-Greta nodded curtly and Johan ran a hand through his hair, looking over in Simon’s direction. ‘I think he’s absolutely incredible.’

‘Yes, but there are plenty of people who can do that sort of thing,’ said Anna-Greta. When Johan looked reproachfully at her, she asked, ‘Anyway, what did he say to you? Before?’

Johan smiled secretively and pulled a face. ‘Oh…I don’t really know.’

Anna-Greta slapped him gently on the shoulder. ‘What did he say?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’m just wondering.’

Johan looked across at the boathouses, where Kalle had embarkedon a new tirade, claiming that he would personally throw in the sea anyone who didn’t go and see Simon’s shows at the local community theatre. Johan shrugged his shoulders.

‘He said I shouldn’t worry. That he was going to keep out of the way for a couple of minutes for effect.’

‘Why did he say that?’

Johan looked at Anna-Greta as if she were making fun of him.

‘So that I wouldn’t be worried, obviously.’ He looked at Anna-Greta and added, ‘Like you were.’

She didn’t even bother to protest. Johan knew her, and his eyes were sharp. Instead she said, ‘Anyway, I think I’ve had enough of this now. Are you coming home?’

Johan shook his head and looked down into the water. ‘No, I want to stay for a while.’

Anna-Greta pulled her cardigan more tightly around her and left the jetty and the crowd. When she was halfway to her house she turned and looked down at the harbour. She couldn’t recall ever having seen so many people down by the jetty, not even on Midsummer’s Eve.

Johan wasn’t there anymore, no doubt he had joined the circle of admirers.

Oh well, she thought. I suppose it was good that he said what he did to Johan. It was considerate of him.

She continued on up towards the house, and although she barely allowed herself to think the thought, she could feel it: But he didn’t say anything to me.

That same evening Simon was sitting at the table in his garden with a glass of cognac. The last tender had arrived and there was still no word from Marita. A few youngsters were swimming down by the steamboat jetty.

His whole body was hurting; the worst pain was in his shoulder joints, which he had had to twist almost completely out of their sockets in order to free himself from the chains. It hadn’t been aparticularly difficult escape because very little rope had been used, but the chains had been unusually tightly pulled, and it had taken him almost a whole minute underwater to get out of them. If he hadn’t had that extra minute before the sack was pushed in, he would have had to go straight up to the surface when he was done.

But he had had an extra minute, and he had used it to swim along the bottom to the furthest jetty and climb out, hidden by the boats. He had achieved the desired effect, and he thought the forthcoming shows would be well attended.

Simon raised the glass to his lips and grimaced as he felt a tightness across his chest. He couldn’t carry on like this for much longer. It put too much of a strain on his body. He had once ended up with a broken rib when a man had been absolutely determined to chain him up as tightly as possible. After that occasion he had stopped offering a reward to anyone who could do it successfully. People were energetic enough as it was.

The lighthouse at Gåvasten flashed in the light summer’s evening; the lamp was only a dot, casting no beams across the water.

I