The Dinosaur Feather

than a station. An escalator had been installed and there was a new car park at the station entrance. Nevertheless, she was overcome with nostalgia.
    While Anna and Lily walked – at a snail’s pace – along the pavement, she wondered if she knew anyone in this city. Several of hers and Karen’s old school friends were bound to live here, but she couldn’t recall the names of any of them. Karen’s mother still lived here, she believed. Anna sighed. Karen was coming over tonight.
    Anna had printed out a map and had been delighted to discover that Ulla Bodelsen lived within walking distance of the railway station, in a narrow street called Rytterstræde. Lily toddled along with enthusiasm in her snowsuit, and it wasn’t until she slipped and fell that she insisted on being carried. Anna sweated. What the hell did she think she was doing? Ulla Bodelsen had to be around eighty years old, and bound to be senile and confused. And how many children had passed through her hands since Anna? Anna decided she was an idiot for thinking this was a good idea. She made a mental note to buy flowers for the funeral tomorrow.
    Her mobile rang. She shifted Lily on to her hip and managed to retrieve it from her pocket. It was a man from the examination board confirming the exact time for her viva. When the conversation had ended, Lily said: ‘Was that my daddy?’
    Anna looked astonished. ‘No, darling,’ she replied.
    ‘Don’t I have a daddy?’ she wanted to know. Their eyeswere very close and Anna could feel Lily’s warm breath on her chin.
    ‘Yes, darling. You have a daddy. His name is Thomas and he lives far away. In Sweden. He’s a doctor and he makes people better.’
    ‘Andreas’s daddy is called Mikkel,’ Lily said. ‘I want a daddy, too.’
    ‘Yes, I know,’ Anna said.
    ‘Poor Daddy,’ Lily said and squirmed to get down. She had spotted something shiny on the pavement. ‘Look, Mum, gold!’ she called out, ecstatically.
    ‘Why poor Daddy?’ Anna asked.
    ‘Look, Mum. Real gold.’ Lily picked up a bottle top of golden foil. Someone had smoothed it out and it looked like a small sun. ‘Gold. Gold!’
    Anna gave up.
    Ulla Bodelsen lived in the ground floor flat in a small cobbled street. Anna hesitated before she rang the doorbell, and started sweating when she heard quick footsteps behind the door. Lily marched straight in when it was opened.
    ‘Look, we found gold,’ she informed the old lady. ‘What’s your name?’
    The elderly, but well-groomed woman bent down, cupped Lily’s face in her hands and studied her closely.
    ‘Yes, it’s clear to see,’ she said, enigmatically ‘My name’s Ulla. What’s yours?’
    ‘Lily Marie Nor,’ Lily said with emphasis. ‘Please may I have some squash?’
    Ulla Bodelsen laughed and looked at Anna.
    ‘Hello,’ she said, warmly. Anna shook her hand. Ulla Bodelsen’s eyes were green and bright, her hair was cut in a short, modern style and her skin surprisingly smooth. A kayak was leaning against the wall behind her.
    ‘You’re a canoeist?’ Anna exclaimed, amazed.
    ‘Yes, well, I kayak,’ Ulla Bodelsen replied, patting its glass fibre hull as she led Anna into the living room. ‘I retired, reluctantly I admit, some . . . twelve years ago or thereabouts. When I turned sixty-two. The thought of doing nothing was rather alien to me.’ She laughed. ‘I loved my work, you see. But now I’m extremely pleased that I did. In fact, I’m busier now than I ever was.’ She laughed again. ‘I’ve trained as a swimming instructor, I teach beginners three times a week, and I’ve become hooked on canoeing.’
    The walls in the room were white, the furniture stylish and simple, and on the wall hung a poster from the 1996 Copenhagen Jazz Festival. Ulla Bodelsen gestured towards a black sofa and Anna sat down. The old woman had baked rolls and made tea and there was a bowl of rock candy.
    ‘Look what I made for you,’ she said to Lily, peeling cling film off a plate and handing her a selection of apple boats, melon, a peeled mandarin, three Gummi Bears and some mixed nuts. While Lily inspected her treat, Ulla Bodelsen fetched a toy box which Lily explored with glee.
    ‘Help yourself,’ Ulla Bodelsen said to Anna, nodding towards the coffee table. ‘I’ve just got to get something.’ Anna buttered a roll and added milk to her tea. What kind of old woman would Cecilie become? Would she be like Maggie? Like Ulla Bodelsen? Bursting with life and joy