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Book online «Harbor John Lindqvist (grave mercy TXT) 📖». Author John Lindqvist



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couldn’t go, but she was there anyway. Samuel who lived in Nåten and played in the same football team as Joel came in his own boat. Even Karolina, who spent only a couple of weeks on Domarö each year, was there. And Henrik and Björn. The suppliers for the evening.

The Bacardi was produced and mixed with Coke in plastic mugs, someone got a fire going outside the boathouse. Henrik and Björn had brought some kind of special meat-free sausages that were palegrey and looked like penises; they were informed of this fact, despite the Bacardi.

For once Anders was permitted to put Depêche Mode on the cassette player. ‘A Question of Lust’ had paved the way. But after the first couple of bottles, nobody wanted to listen to such gloomy music, and at the girls’ insistence it had to be Wham! instead.

The fire died down and the party continued inside the boathouse. At first there had been nothing but a table, two chairs and a bunk bed for fishermen who were staying the night. A few wooden chairs and a rag rug had been added. It was a bit crowded with everybody in there, but Anders and Cecilia helped out by clambering up on to the musty horsehair mattress on the top bunk, where they lay kissing and cuddling.

They had had to put up with a good deal the previous summer after Malin had seen them kissing, but that was all in the past now. They were a couple and there wasn’t much to say about it, even if it was a bit peculiar to be together for so long. They had slept together for the first time during the winter, and had carried on in spring, so there was none of that initial desperation as they lay on the horsehair mattress. They could take it easy now, resting on each other’s lips and fingertips.

Down below them the atmosphere was even more over-excited. Somebody had produced a pack of cards, and they were about to play strip poker. Karolina immediately dropped out, barely raising even a dutiful protest. She was chubby and not particularly attractive. Unfortunately she had no way of getting home on her own, so she had to curl up on the bottom bunk and pretend, as far as possible, to be fine with the whole thing.

And so the fun lay with Elin and Malin, who were the best-looking girls. Frida was quite pretty, but she didn’t have the kind of body you could talk or fantasise about. On the other hand, there was no way she was pulling out if the other girls were up for it.

When Elin and Malin gave each other a high five and said ‘Go for it!’, Anders saw how Frida’s eyes darted from side to side, and hershoulders drooped slightly. But she gritted her teeth and straightened up. Perhaps she was hoping she might be able to play without losing. She would lose more by backing out.

Anders took a swig from the bottle of ready-mixed rum and Coke and buried his nose in the back of Cecilia’s neck. He had a bad feeling about this, and was grateful for the fact that he and Cecilia were so far out of the reckoning that they’d been forgotten.

On the ghetto blaster Joey Tempest was singing about the final countdown, and Martin dealt the cards. He hesitated when he got to Henrik, who said he’d like to drop his trousers to the world, and Björn giggled. Nobody else understood what was funny, but they got their cards.

Martin carried on dealing, hands were won and hands were lost. As items of clothing were removed, they were thrown on a pile in the middle of the floor. After perhaps twenty minutes Anders must have fallen asleep, because the situation had changed completely when he raised his head again.

The door had just closed behind Joel, who had come back in. He was stark naked except for a scrap of torn fishing net which he had arranged so that it half covered his dangling penis.

Booing and laughter came from around the table. Joel threw his arms out wide and executed a couple of dance steps. He didn’t seem unhappy with the situation. He went to the gym regularly and was making the most of the opportunity to show off what he had.

It was so hot in the boathouse that Anders’ hair was sticky with sweat. The oxygen was being eaten up by all the candles and by the alcohol burning in their bodies. Another two half-litre bottles had been emptied and were lying next to the pile of clothes. They had drunk at least a litre more than they ever had before, and Samuel was just opening a new bottle.

Frida, who had done quite well and was still wearing her bra and pants, pointed at Joel and protested, ‘Admit you’ve lost. That’s just cheating.’

Joel went over to her and waggled his midriff in front of her face.‘What do you mean, I’m wearing something, aren’t I? Go on, feel.’

Frida pushed him away and Joel almost fell backwards on top of Karolina, but grabbed hold of the bed frame and straightened up. He was very drunk, and sweat was pouring down his neck and back. He waved a hand over his fishnet pants and said, ‘Last chance, OK? Last round. Then I’m…bust. OK?’

Despite the fact that Anders hadn’t drunk all that much, his head was spinning, and it felt three times as heavy as it usually did.

They ought to open the door.

He opened his mouth to say so, but just didn’t have the strength. He looked down at the table where the others were sitting. Joel was the one who had lost most, but Henrik, Björn and Elin weren’t far behind. Henrik and Björn were down to their underpants, and even though Elin’s lower half was concealed by the shadows under the table, Anders could see that she had sacrificed her pants before her bra.

He could hear from Cecilia’s breathing that she

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