Sister by Kjell Ola Dahl

Author:Kjell Ola Dahl
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orenda Books Ltd
Published: 2020-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

62

When he left Weddevåg Frølich cast a quick glance at his watch. They had talked for a good hour. Presumably he would have to wait for the boat.

He strolled back to the ferry berth. Small holiday cabins were clustered around it. Nakholmen resembled a village of the allotment variety.

No passengers were waiting. He passed a red shelter and walked to the end of the embarkation area. Stared down into the water at the clumps of seaweed dancing in the current around the quay poles. He waited to catch a glimpse of a starfish clinging to the pole under the water, or perhaps snails, or the movements of a shrimp in the seaweed. But the city was probably too close by. The water wasn’t that clean. Something flickered in his brain, a sense of how it was when he was a child: feeling the sun-warmed planks of the quay against his stomach as he watched the crabs advancing on the bait he had lowered on a piece of string into the water.

He turned on hearing footsteps. A man was sitting down on the bench to his right. He was one of the tourists who had stepped ashore with him.

This tourist is probably beginning to get a little hot in his jumper, Frank thought, and observed that he didn’t have a camera, either.

As though the man were a mind-reader, he got up and started snapping the City Hall, Piper Bay and the fortress with his phone.

After a while he sat back down on the bench.

There was something familiar about the man’s appearance, but he couldn’t quite place him.

He looked to the right.

The man looked away.

Then he thought: Perhaps this tourist just looks like someone I’ve met.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help feeling some unease. The echo of a voice: I’ll find you.

Could this be the voice on the phone?

He had seen the man on the bench before. But where? It was as though the right side of his body was aglow. He forced himself to stand still. Leaned back and gazed across the water. A pair of swans swam past the quay. They continued towards the sea-smoothed rocks where people from the cluster of cabins had found themselves spots to lie, sheltered from the wind. There were people around. There were witnesses. A man with a fishing rod was walking between the boats in the marina beside the ferry berth.

Frank Frølich coughed.

The man with the fishing rod glanced towards the berth before jumping down into a skerry jeep. He unhitched the mooring ropes and used a boat hook to manoeuvre his way out of the marina.

The ferry arrived. A young woman in a white blouse and black trousers was standing at the stern. The sight of her calmed Frølich’s nerves. She leapt ashore and motioned for them to board.

He went up to the top deck. The tourist stayed below.

Frølich found himself a seat where he could keep an eye on the ladder protruding from the lower deck.

During the trip people came up to the top deck, but they were usually children and their parents.

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