The Circle by Sara B. Elfgren

Author:Sara B. Elfgren
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Random House UK
Published: 2012-06-06T22:00:00+00:00

32

FRASSE RUNS DOWN the hall barking when the doorbell rings. His tail beats against Vanessa’s legs as she opens the door. Wille is outside with a bunch of flowers. His hair is combed back, and he’s wearing black jeans and a black shirt under his jacket. He looks mature, clean-cut and a little dressed up. Her heart melts. He really has made an effort for her. ‘You brought flowers?’

‘They’re for your mother,’ Wille says, and lets Frasse lick his hand.

Vanessa kisses him blissfully on the lips. ‘You’re the best,’ she whispers, and almost trips over the dog on the way back to the kitchen.

Her mother and Nicke are sitting at the table, waiting. Their faces are locked in rigid disapproval, which doesn’t change when Wille comes in. Only Melvin, sitting on the floor playing with his bricks, smiles.

‘Hi there, squirt.’ Wille ruffles his hair. Then he holds out the flowers to Vanessa’s mother. ‘Thank you for inviting me to dinner,’ he says.

‘Vanessa did the inviting … Thank you,’ she adds mechanically, and removes the wrapping with an explosion of rustling.

Wille shakes hands with Nicke, who leans back in his chair and looks at him with a condescending smirk. Vanessa hates him for it, but says nothing. With this dinner she’s going to prove she’s an adult, no matter what her mother and Nicke think.

Her mother rummages in the cupboard for a suitable vase. She fills it with water and puts the flowers into it. They’re gerberas, Vanessa’s favourite. They look like the flowers you see in cartoons. ‘They’re very nice,’ her mother says, and puts the vase on the table, which Vanessa has laid for dinner.

‘I’m glad you like them,’ Wille answers.

There is an awkward silence and Vanessa is glad to have something to do. She pulls on a pair of oven gloves. Hot air hits her face when she opens the oven door. The lasagne dish is so hot that it almost burns through the gloves. She bites her lip to stop herself letting out a string of swear words and sets the dish on the stove with a little bang.

‘Smells great,’ Wille says.

‘Vanessa’s been in the kitchen all day,’ her mother says, ‘and the girls were here to help earlier.’

‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ says Wille to Vanessa.

‘Me neither,’ she says, as she cuts the lasagne into individual sections.

It is bubbling and sizzling at the edges, and the cheese on top is dark brown, but the knife meets with unexpected resistance. She hopes it’s just that it’s blunt. The lasagne has been in the oven for a very long time.

She takes the salad servers out of the drawer and sticks them into the salad.

‘You have a lovely apartment,’ Wille says.

It’s such a typically grown-up thing to say. Vanessa is moved by his attempt to start up a conversation, but her mother and Nicke don’t try to help him.

‘Well, at least we have a roof over our heads,’ is all her mother says.

‘But it’s really nice. Beautiful wallpaper …’ His voice peters out.

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