Fog Island. Mariette Lindstein

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      ‘Maybe you should think about putting your hair up in a bun,’ he suggested.

      ‘Oh, maybe.’

      ‘What size skirt and blazer do you wear? For your uniform.’

      ‘Thirty-four.’

      ‘And your shoes?’

      She had known it was coming.

      ‘Eight and a half.’

      ‘Pardon?’

      ‘I said eight and a half. We have small bodies and big feet in my family. We are firmly planted on the ground.’

      The joke was lost on him. He only nodded and made a note. Suddenly she felt uneasy, being there. It was not at all as she had imagined. Her doubt had begun to surface even on the ferry ride over. But by now it was too late to get out of this.

      ‘Then it’s time to sign your contract,’ Bosse said.

      He was well prepared. The contract was in the centre of the desk, under a large, black pen. He handed it to her and she read carefully as her discomfort rose.

      ‘“I agree to work under temporarily difficult conditions,” what does that mean?’

      ‘Just that you’re prepared to work hard. It’s necessary sometimes.’

      ‘And what does “I waive the right to bring action against the organization and its personnel” mean?’

      ‘Yikes! Surely you’re not planning to sue us? Sofia, you have to sign a contract to be hired at just about any job. It’s nothing new. Confidentiality and all that.’

      ‘What happens if I change my mind?’

      ‘You don’t think we’d try to keep you here, do you? We don’t need to force anyone. There are plenty of people who want to work at ViaTerra.’

      ‘So then why do I need to sign a contract?’

      ‘Like I said, most jobs require a contract. I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult. Didn’t you know there would be a contract?’

      ‘Yes, but I hadn’t read it.’

      Bosse sighed.

      ‘Shall we sign now, so I can show you your room?’

       *

      Together they walked down the stairs to the second floor. Bosse carried one of her big suitcases, and Sofia pulled the other; it bounced loudly down the stairs. A terrible aftertaste still lingered in her mouth after their conversation. She was kicking herself for handing over her iPhone; she couldn’t help but picture inmates subjected to cavity searches in a prison. Maybe he’s right, she thought later. It probably would be wrong for the staff to tweet and text in front of the guests.

      ‘The first floor is still undergoing renovation,’ Bosse told her. ‘But up here, everything is finished.’

      He held open the door to the second floor. The corridor was quiet and still, with new flooring. There were ten neatly numbered doors on either side. Bosse opened number seven. The first thing she noticed was the three beds. So she would be sleeping in a dormitory. Next to each bed was a wardrobe, bureau, and chair. The room was otherwise bare of furniture. The windows didn’t face the sea; instead the view was of the long building behind the manor and the animals grazing in the pasture.

      ‘As you can see, you have your own wardrobe and bureau,’ Bosse said, with a look at her large suitcases. ‘You won’t need much in the way of clothes here; your uniform will arrive in a few days and in your free time you’ll mostly just need jeans and so forth. You might want to keep some of your things in our storage area in the basement. Just let me know and I’ll show you where it is.’

      She peeked into the bathroom. White and bare, with a large medicine cabinet over a sink. Small name labels over each of the three white bath towels. A shower, but no bathtub. An air freshener gave off the uninspiring scent of lavender.

      ‘Who else lives here?’

      ‘You’ll be sharing a room with Elvira, who’s here with her parents, and Madeleine, who I believe you’ve already met.’

      Sofia’s heart sank. It didn’t seem like she would have anyone to talk to. She suddenly missed Wilma so much it hurt. Wilma, who wouldn’t be there to stop her if she spiralled out of control. If that was even possible in a place like this — everything seemed so minutely planned and disciplined.

      ‘Well, I’ll leave you alone so you can unpack,’ Bosse said. ‘Dinner is served at seven. The staff dining room is on the first floor; it’s easy to find. Once you’ve eaten, Madeleine will give you instructions for the library. You can always come to me if you have questions. As I said, I’m in charge of all personnel.’

      He left the room and his quick steps vanished down the corridor. She went to the window and looked down at the farm. It looked so peaceful, cows and sheep grazing in the pasture. Why did she feel so uneasy? It must happen to everyone who came to the manor, a reaction to leaving everything back home.

      She began to unpack her suitcases and arranged her clothes in the wardrobe and bureau. She sang to herself, but it just sounded dull in the soundproofed room.

      Under her clothes was the black leather journal Wilma had given her as a farewell present. She placed it in the top drawer. Then there was the laptop. She had brought a set of sheets, but she saw that the bed was already neatly made, so she stuffed the laptop into the pillowcase and wound a sheet around it, then stashed the bundle in the bottom drawer. She shoved her suitcases and everything that didn’t fit in the bureau under the bed. She wasn’t about to let her belongings out of her sight.

      Dinner was already in full swing in the staff dining room. All the tables seemed to be full, and she lingered hesitantly in the doorway until Madeleine spotted her and came over.

      ‘You can sit at our table.’

      Madeleine tried to make small talk during the meal, but her chatter turned to a buzz in Sofia’s mind. Thoughts of regret wandered in and out of her head. It was impossible to control them, so she let them carry on.

      ‘Is that okay?’ Madeleine suddenly asked.

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘I asked if it’s okay if we head to the library now. Franz has written a project description for the library. He wants you to read it.’

      ‘Sure, that’s fine.’

      It was cold and quiet in the library, not at all like when the sun had warmed the small building. Madeleine turned on the overhead lights.

      ‘Okay, so it’s up to you to start creating something here.’ She eagerly handed a thick document to Sofia. ‘Read this and tell me what you think.’

      Sofia sat down on the only chair and left Madeleine to stand.

      ‘I need a desk here. The kind a librarian would have, and a chair for visitors. And I need a computer if I’m going to СКАЧАТЬ