Macbeth by Jo Nesbo

Author:Jo Nesbo
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Crown Publishing
Published: 2018-04-10T04:00:00+00:00

20

THURSDAY MORNING. FIFE WAS BATHED in sunshine.

Duff was swimming.

Full, muscular breaststroke, ploughing a path through the cold heavy water.

He had long preferred the saltwater of the river, it felt lighter to swim in. Which actually was strange because he had learned that saltwater gave you more buoyancy, which had to mean it had greater density, which in turn had to mean it was heavier than freshwater. Nevertheless, until recently he had preferred the river, which as well as being freezing cold was so polluted that he felt dirty every time he emerged from it. But now he was clean. He had got up early, done his exercises on the cold wooden floor beside the guest bed, made breakfast for the family, sung a little birthday song for Ewan, driven the children to school and afterwards walked with Meredith the half a mile or so down to the lake. She had talked about how many apples there were on the trees this autumn, their daughter getting her first love letter – though Meredith was privately very disappointed it was from a boy who was three years younger than her – and Emily wanting a guitar for her twelfth birthday. Ewan had been in a fight in the school playground and had brought home a note for his parents. He had agreed with Mum that he would have to tell Dad himself, but it could wait until after his birthday party today – there would be plenty of time then. Duff asked if postponing the evil moment wouldn’t mean Ewan would be dreading it for an unnecessarily long time.

‘I don’t know what he does most.’ Meredith smiled. ‘Look forward to something or dread it. The boy he had a fight with yesterday is in the class above him, and Ewan said the boy kicked little Peter first.’

‘Who?’

‘Ewan’s best friend.’

‘Oh, him,’ Duff lied.

‘Ewan said he was sorry but he had to defend his pal; Dad would have done the same. So he’s keen to hear what you have to say.’

‘I’ll have to be balanced then. Condemn his behaviour but praise his courage. Say something about taking the initiative to make up instead of waging war. Reconciliation, right?’

‘I’d appreciate that.’

And as he and Meredith glided out through the water Duff decided there and then that he would never swim anywhere except in their little lake in Fife.

‘Here it is,’ Meredith panted behind him.

Duff turned onto his back so that he could watch her while he floated, moving his hands and kicking his feet. His body was pale with a greenish tint under the water whereas hers, even in this light, was golden brown. He spent too much time in town; he had to get more sun.

She swam past him and crawled ashore onto a large water-smoothed rock.

Not any rock. Their rock. The rock where their daughter was conceived one summer’s day eleven years ago. They had come to Fife to escape the town and had found this lake almost by chance. They had stopped because they saw an abandoned little farm Meredith thought looked so sweet.

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