his property, too. She had obviously just returned from one of her long walks that she liked to take, all alone of course. Sometimes she went down to the beach. The forest seamlessly went over into a beach but the beach was not really attractive for bathing or for taking a sensual stroll in the sand at the water´s edge, because in this little cove the water kept on washing up an abundance of greenly-black algae which of course overlapped in a slimy, oily accumulation at the water´s edge and barred an untroubled, easy entrance into the water and the sandy land area was peppered with little rocks and clumps of reed. There was a little wooden pier which protruded into the algae-free zone oft he water and from which one could hop into the water quickly for a short swim. Clarice visited this beach in every weather, even when it was windy and raining. Sören, like every native who grew up on Öland, wouldn´t even dream of going to the beach in cold or ghastly weather. That was how you recognized a tourist or a newcomer to the island.
When Clarice was within earshot, he had interrupted his work for a moment and said,“Clarice, you do know that there are much nicer and proper beaches in the nearest vicinity, right?”
She had nodded, “Yes of course I know that, but they´re not within close walking distance, are they?”
“Yes, that´s true, but the other beaches are beautiful, with white sand, where one can walk unobstructed and bathe and stretch out in the sand.“
“I don´t want to stretch out in the sand”.
“No? What do you do at the beach then“?
“I smell the salty tang of the algae and the sea and listen to the gentle, rhythmic beating of the waves”.
“Ah. Well that´s nice. No shortage of rotting algae there. I´d say that salty tang is a somewhat euphemistic description for the smell they give off. Sewage plant would be more appropiate”
Clarice had smiled, “Yes, now and again, depending on how the wind blows. But that doesn´t matter. And anyway, I do sometimes visit other beaches“.
„Well, that´s alright then.” Sören had resumed stacking his logs.
She had silently watched him stacking the wood for a while and then thoughtfully remarked, “You know you look a lot like that elf, what´s his name again? Wait a minute, it´ll come to me… Legolas! That´s it. You know, from the Lord of the Rings.”
He had given her a puzzled and somewhat irritated look.
“I look like an elf? Elves are small, invisible people. How can I look like an elf?”
“You do know the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the movies I mean?”
“Yes... no, what is it?”
“Jesus, don´t you take any interest in popular culture at all?”
“Of course I do, certainly I do. I watched a movie in Kalmar only last week.”
“What was it?”
“Edith Piaf.”
She had just stared at him.
“What´s wrong with Edith Piaf?” he had asked slightly peeved.
“Nothing is wrong with her. I own a couple of her recordings myself, she´s amazing, great voice, tragic life and everything, but she hardly classifies as popular culture. She would probably fall into the category of high culture, elitist even in your case.”
Was that an insult? Sören couldn´t say. “I´m not a teenager you know, I´m almost thirty-five years old.”
“So in that case you should have read Tolkien when you were a child.”
“Maybe, but I didn´t”.
“What did you read? Hang on a minute, you can read, right?”
He had ignored that remark. “Like any child growing up in Sweden I read Astrid Lindgren. In fact I think it´s a law in our country. Every child must read Astrid Lindgren and only Astrid Lindgren or you get sent to a child correction centre.”
“Are you kidding me? That boy with the propeller on his back and that little girl with superhuman powers who lives in a house all by herself?”
“Aha, so you read them, too!”, he had said triumphantly, picking up another armful of logs from the wheelbarrow.
“I most certainly did not, but I have watched about a thousand repeats of those ghastly movies they made in the seventies, which they show here almost every Sunday morning. And that little girl in the suspender stockings and that little shirt dress? She´s every pedophiles´s dream.”
After which he had straightened up, towered over her and put on his sternest look. “So you´ve got a bit of a dirty mind, haven´t you little girl? Maybe you need to be spanked?”
She had laughed, given him a toothy grin, showing a row of gleaming white teeth and wandered off. At least he knew how she spent her Sunday mornings. He had consequently hired the first of those movies she mentioned and been relieved to see that the elvian hero in question was indeed quite a handsome fellow and a very brave and capable warrior.
Of course the likeness she had mentioned was of a purely aesthetical nature, but still.
He had hired the other two movies, too and been a little disturbed by the fact that his elvian alias remained almost androginous and unattached right through the movies. No girlfriend, woman or wife in sight. On the plus side no boyfriend either, if you discounted the dwarf. The elf did have a likeness to Sören, except that Sören´s hair was not that long. His hair only came down to his chin. And he would never ever braid his hair, only if someone held a gun to his head. His nose was also thinner and straighter and his eyes not quite so blue. He was sure that guy was wearing contacts. And Sören was much taller than the elf, but that was because he wasn´t an elf, right?
Chapter 6
Sören arrived at his office right in the city centre and switched off all thoughts about Clarice. His office in Kalmar was a Clarice free zone, physically, since she had never actually been there and mentally because here he concentrated only on his work.
The client was already waiting for him and turned out to be a very attractive blond woman in her late thirties called Anna. They shook hands and promptly retreated to his office to go over her business plan together.
“Who buys all this stuff?” Sören thought again when she presented him with a list of her product range. The thought was a hypothetical one though, since he already knew what sort of customer group was attracted to ecological clothing. His market research team had already looked into that matter and written up an extensive report including impressive looking diagrams and statistical charts.
During the course of their meeting Anna flashed her legs at him several times and touched her knees to his more often than was absolutely necessary. And why not? Sören thought. He was single and free and in contrast to Clarice, Anna was not immune to his charmes and his looks, even though she herself was skinnier than he generally preferred. But she was still quite attractive and entertaining.
So after their meeting he invited her to dinner at one of the few really good restaurants the town had to offer. The restaurant was in walking distance from his office. When they passed the harbour Anna pointed to one of the bigger yachts anchored there and said, “Oh look at that boat. Isn´t it big and shiny?”
Sören nodded. It was big and shiny, what could he say?
He had noticed that although she was a successful business woman a lot of her statements were naiv and almost childlike. Maybe it was an act she put on when she was attracted to a man. Many men felt insecure around succesful women. Sören wasn´t one of them but he knew men who were.
The restaurant was furnished with glass sculptures, vases and multiple other decorative elements made out of glass. Even the candelabras were made entirely out of glass.
Öland belonged to the province of Småland and Kalmar was its capital. Småland