Читать книгу Shadows of Sören - Nicola Stöhr - Страница 11

Clarice was having a bit of a bad morning.

First she had worked on her M-theory, which was an extension of String theory, till late in to the night, but without making any progress or getting anywhere close to a solution. And then when she had just decided to call it a night she had heard Sören´s Volvo speed up the alley and watched him disembark with a blond woman, dressed to kill and obviously enamored with him.

The two of them had disappeared in to the house together and a couple of minutes later she had seen the lights come on in his bedroom. Actually she only assumed it was his bedroom, since she had never set foot in it herself and wasn’t really planning on it in the near future. She was upset and she didn’t know why.

He was her landlord, not even a friend or anything and that was the way she wanted it. She didn’t want to become involved with anyone, even if he had been interested.

Which he obviously wasn’t.

For a short while she thought she had detected a slight romantic interest in her on his part and had quickly withdrawn to her shell, but he had never acted on it and had obviously moved on. Good, perfect. He could be happy with Blondie, that was fine with her. Then she had woken in the middle of the night due to a recurring nightmare which always left her feeling shaky and vulnerable. As usual she hadn´t been able to get back to sleep.

Of course her thoughts had gone to Sören and his blond femme fatale, who were probably snuggled up tight in the arms of Morpheus. That image did absolutely nothing to improve her mood. Especially not at four o’clock in the morning. But then she grudgingly decided that it really was best for Sören if he pursued other amorous interests, since she was a troubled woman with multiple traumas that she yet had to resolve. Sören didn’t deserve to be burdened with her troubles and as Aimee Mann sang very aptly,”Noone´s got that much ego to spare.” Then again Aimee Mann also sang “It’s not going to stop till you wise up.”

And Clarice was making a lot of progress in the wising up department, especially since she had been living in Vickleby. She felt secure and sheltered on the island and at Rettinge. Her nightmares had receded in the past few months and when she did have them, they were less daunting and powerful.

Still, it was all for the best if she and Sören didn´t get involved just then or ever.

Except that in the morning the water in her shower was cold again and she really, really hated cold showers. The temperature had dropped a little outside and the supermodern, energy saving heatpump always took its time adjusting to the outside temperature. She hadn´t actually managed to study the instruction manual yet, so she didn´t know how to get extra hot water.

And to top of her morning, she discovered Per Nielson peering through her bedroom window. This was not the first time she had caught him peeping through one of her windows or Tilda´s windows. He did it all the time and she had taken to keeping the blinds drawn until she was properly attired. Clarice had not spoken to Sören about this, because she knew he was getting enough trouble from Anna, Magnus and Tilda about Per´s constant and annoying presence on the gård.

She was a little surprised though, that he hadn´t acted more vehemently towards having him removed somehow and she couldn´t really fathom why. Two nights ago she had even seen him come out of the main house when Sören had obviously been at home. It was all a little strange.

There was a knock on her door. She peeped outside. It was Tilda. As usual Tilda looked a little uncomfortable and apprehensive when encountering Clarice. Clarice gave her a broad smile to make her feel more secure.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I was just wondering, I don´t want to bother you, but is your heat pump not working, either? I mean do you have only cold water too?”

“No, it isn´t. It´s a real bummer, isn´t it?”

“Yeah, I had to wash Oscar with cold water this morning and he really didn´t like it.”

“I´m not surprised. Listen, I´m going over to tell Sören. Maybe he knows how to work these things, he had them installed after all.”

“Oh, good. Could you, I mean do you mind asking him if he can fix mine, too?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Oh thanks, thanks a lot.”

Clarice quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater and purposefully marched over to the main house. She entered the house via the kitchen entrance at the side, as she always did. Nanna, Sören´s housekeeper was busy making more coffee for the happy couple.

“He has company this morning, Clarice,” she whispered, even though there was no way Sören could have heard her from the wide and spacious dining room.

“A dreadfully thin woman who drinks a lot of coffee.”

“Well good for him,” Clarice said.

Clarice had actually taken to visiting the big house and chatting to Nanna while she prepared Sören´s meals on a regular basis. Nanna had been Sören´s nanny when he was small and had stayed on as the cook when Sören got too big for a nanny. She was a cheerful, slightly overweight woman of about sixty withlively blue eyes. She and Sören were very close. Nanna was an excellent cook and Sören had several times invited Clarice to join him for dinner, because Nanna always cooked far too much. But this morning was obviously not one of those times when her presence was required. Well he would have to deal with her anyway.

“My shower is broken, I only have cold water, I need to talk to him”, she said and swiftly slipped past Nanna and in to the adjoining dining room.

Sören was in his usual place at the head of the table, reading the paper for heaven´s sake, like they were some old married couple. He was in what she thought of as his blue ensemble. Dark-blue pin striped jacket, dark-blue slacks and blue shirt open at the neck, no tie. He never wore ties. All his clothes looked like they were tailor made, which they probably were. He was really tall and she doubted he could wear anything of the rack. He also had his hair slicked back in a style reminiscent of Michael Douglas in Wall Street. She hated that look on him. She much preferred it when he just let his hair hang loose around his face.

But Sören´s hair was not really the issue right now, was it? The two of them hadn´t noticed her come in, but they would now. Hand on hips she declared, “Good morning. I´m sorry to disturb you in the middle of breakfast but my heat pump is not working. I realize the two of you are still basking in the afterglow of what was undoubtedly an energetic fulfillment of your biological urges, but would you mind sending someone over to adjust the heat pump?”

Sören almost dropped his piece of toast and Blondie turned a very ugly crimson red.

He fixated Clarice with a very cool stare and with obviously barely contained anger and very controlled movements he rose from his chair and coming towards her spat out “Anna, this is one of my tenants, Clarice Carter. Clarice let me introduce Anna, a client and personal friend.”

After which he more or less dragged her out of the room with a very firm grip on one of her arms.

“Ouch, you´re hurting me. Let go of my arm“, she sqeaked.

He turned so he was facing her, “What the hell do you think you´re doing? Coming over here, marching in to my house, into my dining room and insulting one of my guests during breakfast? A guest who just happens to be a very important client too.”

“Do you sleep with all your clients? I´m surprised you still find time to run your business.”

“Who I do or do not sleep with is none of your business, Clarice. You are my tenant, not the lady of the manor and have no business speaking to me the way you do.”

“What way? Alright, alright, calm down. I only want warm water. That damn heat pump isn´t working again.”

“That´s a matter which you very well know you should be taking up with Magnus, not with me. He manages the estate and the houses. That is what I pay him for, that is his job. I have other things to attend to, like the little matter of running a busy company. Which is by the way Rettinge´s main source of income or do you think Rettinge survives on your and Tilda´s rent or the herb boutique or the ostrich farm? Those just barely cover the running costs, the consulting firm is what keeps this place going and you have probably just lost me a very lucrative client.”

“I didn´t just come here because of the shower, I also came here to tell you that I have caught Per Nielson peering through my bedroom window and not the first time, either. And what are you going to do about that? Because you haven´t been exactly forceful on that matter have you? No, you even let him into your house, what is that about?”

“Excuse me?” Sören asked tensely.

“Yes, I saw him leave your house two nights ago. How can you let that disgusting old man into your house? What do the two of you talk about while he´s here? Do you have an idle chat about each other´s days?”

She attempted to imitate Sören and put on a poncy voice, “So Per, old sport, how was your day? Oh, nothing special Sören, just the usual really. Tried to catch a glimpse of Clarice getting dressed in the morning, then I harassed my daughter a bit, then I annoyed the hell out of Alma at the örtagård, then I drank two bottles of vodka and went to bed. How about you Sören, old chap?”

Do I really sound like that, Sören wondered, that´s terrible. “I don´t sound like that and I would never use the words “old sport”, he answered feebly.

Clarice glared at him, “That´s hardly the point is it?”

“Well what is the point, I´ve lost track?”

“The point is that you really need to do something to get that man to stay away from Rettinge. This is your land, for God´s sake. And yes, I know about the allemansrätten, but he´s disturbing the peace so the freedom to roam hardly applies in his case, does it?”

“Did it occur to you, Clarice, that he was here because I was trying to reason with him peacefully? I tried to talk some sense into that thick head of his because believe it or not, I don´t actually like him hanging around Rettinge all the time, either.” I am such a good liar, Sören thought.

“Well your methods of diplomacy haven´t worked, because he´s here, right now, out there,” Clarice said accusingly.

“I shall have to use more drastic methods then, but basically all of this is just distracting from the fact that your behavior this morning was equally unacceptable and rude.”

She gave him a haughty look, “Right, but in contrast to Per Nielson I will comply to your wishes and won´t come round unannounced anymore in the future. You´re right and I´m wrong, I apologize. Don´t worry, stick insect in there will stay with the firm, she has that desperate look about her. Maybe you should shag her again before lunch, just to be on the safe side. And make her eat something before relief agencies start dropping survival packages on to your house.”

And she left not banging the door as he had expected but closing it very gently and quietly.