The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

rearing. But lately Stina had cancelled or declined to come along when invited, offering all sorts of excuses. Andrea couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed. Something was different about her friend, but she didn’t know what was wrong. She was hoping they’d have a chance to talk during this holiday trip. She missed their long, intimate conversations.
    Next to Stina sat John. He was ten years younger than Beata. They had been the last of the group to move into the development. John was originally from San Diego in California. He and Beata had met in New York when she was working there as a model. John had come into the bar where she and her colleagues hung out every night, and they had started up a romance that ended with him following her back to Sweden. They now had three children, and everything had gone well for them. John had quickly adapted to life in Sweden. He ran a bar in Visby, and he spoke good Swedish, although with a strong American accent. Sometimes he just didn’t feel like making the effort and would switch to English. He was nice in a slightly affected way, bordering on pretentious, in Andrea’sopinion. It was hard to figure him out. They spent a good deal of time together, of course, and talked about all sorts of things, but it was difficult to know where he stood on many issues.
    Beata, on the other hand, was very easy to read – frequently too easy. She suffered from a constant need for attention, which could be terribly annoying. And she was always talking about sex, which was also tiresome. But there were plenty of good sides to her, so Andrea tried to be tolerant. Beata just needed to be seen, as Sam said every time Andrea complained about her friend’s behaviour. He ignored Beata’s innuendos. Everyone in the group was used to them. It was a different matter when they had big parties with new arrivals who weren’t aware of Beata’s idiosyncrasies. She often ended up sitting on the lap of some new neighbour’s poor husband, her peals of laughter louder than anyone else’s. She was always touching people, especially men, massaging their shoulders, dancing too close. She seemed to lack any sense of boundaries between what was considered decent behaviour and what was inappropriate.
    Over the years Andrea had discussed this with Sam many times, but he claimed that Beata was harmless; no one took her seriously. Andrea shouldn’t be bad-mouthing their friends. And Beata was a good friend, she really was. She was forthright and honest, always saying what she meant, even if that wasn’t the wisest thing to do.
    Andrea sipped her coffee and looked out of the window at the apple trees in the garden. A lone man with a beard and straw hat was sitting at a table in the shade, reading. The scene looked so peaceful.
    He reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t think who that might be. There was just something familiar about him. Maybe she was thinking of an actor or someone else in the film business whom she ought to recognize. She would ask Sam later.
    Suddenly the man looked up from his book and stared straight at her. Oddly enough, she felt as if she’d been caught out, as if she’d been surreptitiously studying him. She smiled with embarrassment, stirred her coffee, and turned her gaze to her friends seated around the table.
    They all knew that she wasn’t particularly talkative first thing in the morning. She preferred silence, at least for her own part. She never wantedto talk to anyone until after breakfast. That was why no one had tried to draw her into the conversation; they left her alone.
    Sam, on the other hand, was eagerly conversing as he helped himself liberally to everything on the breakfast table. He kept making the others laugh. He seemed to be in an unusually good mood.

THEY WERE SITTING across from each other at the kitchen table. On the radio Lisa Syrén was chatting about various topics with people at home all over Sweden. They were having breakfast indoors, in spite of the splendid weather. The children were still asleep. Knutas stole glances at his wife as she read the newspaper. Lina was wearing her reading glasses. Even though she couldn’t read anything without her glasses, she was always losing them. Each time she would rope the whole family into looking for them, and by now everyone had grown tired of it. Knutas had suggested that she fasten them to a cord that she could hang around her neck. That would make things easier for all of them. But Lina had