Fog Island. Mariette Lindstein

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      From the top of the highest boulder, they got a glimpse of the grey, foamy sea between the trees. It was windy out there, but not in the woods.

      Sofia stayed on the boulder for a while as Benjamin climbed down.

      ‘Here it is!’ she heard Benjamin’s voice from below.

      She slid down from the rock and saw that he had found a patch of chanterelles in the moss.

      ‘This is my secret chanterelle spot. Come on, let’s pick them.’

      He had brought a backpack, and they gently placed the small mushrooms inside.

      ‘I’ll show you something you’ve never seen by the outlook point,’ he said.

      ‘How do you know the island so well?’

      ‘We had a summer cottage here when I was little.’

      ‘Is it still here?’

      His eyes darted away a little too quickly.

      ‘No, we had to sell it. Mom left us when I was twelve. Dad died in a car accident soon after that. Now it’s just me and my sister.’

      ‘I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know . . .’

      ‘It’s okay. It was a long time ago.’

      ‘Why did your mom leave?’

      ‘It’s hard to say. One day she was just gone. I couldn’t help but blame myself a little bit, though. It was like, I wondered what I had done wrong.’

      He seemed to have sunk into himself; he looked smaller.

      ‘But you always seem so happy!’

      She could tell right away how wrong it sounded, as if he had renounced his right to happiness.

      He stood up and slung the backpack over his shoulders.

      ‘Well, what can you do? The future is what’s important. And I have my ViaTerra family, of course.’

      The outlook point was windy. The fog had lifted from the sea, but the sky was still grey. Waves crashed in hard enough to make foam fly from the rocks.

      ‘That’s Devil’s Rock,’ Benjamin said, pointing. ‘Have you heard about it?’

      ‘Yes, Björk — the guy who runs the ferry — told me the whole story. Do you really believe all that?’

      ‘Sure, some of it. Once when I was younger, it was foggy and I thought I saw the Countess on the Rock. It was scary as hell. Someone was standing out there, dressed all in black. And then she vanished into the fog. It was like she dissolved.’

      ‘I saw someone there when I first came to the island. But it looked like a regular person. At least I think it did.’

      ‘We used to jump off Devil’s Rock when I was little,’ he said. ‘But then there was an accident. One guy who jumped died. The current dragged him out to sea.’

      ‘Did you know him?’

      ‘A little, he was a few years older than me. But I remember how scared we were when we found out. His mom worked at the manor. A doctor lived there back then. I don’t remember him, but I do remember his daughter, Lily. She was older than us too. Pretty girl — she had long red hair and she was thin as a rail. We used to spy on her when she was sunbathing. But she died in a fire in the barn. It all happened around the same time. It was awful.’

      ‘Maybe it’s true, then, about the curse on the manor?’

      ‘No, I don’t believe in ghosts like that. But I do believe some souls have trouble finding peace. That they can stick around, sort of.’

      She looked out at the cliff and could almost see a figure there.

      ‘Ooh, now you’re scaring me.’

      He laughed and put his arm around her shoulders.

      ‘Let’s climb down the rocks,’ he said, looking at her rubber boots with concern. ‘Be careful so you don’t slip.’

      They cautiously made their way down the steep rock face. Sofia did lose her footing a few times, but managed to steady herself and tried to keep up with Benjamin.

      They came to a small grassy slope between the boulders, and he stopped there. They were directly underneath Devil’s Rock, and the cliff hung over them like a huge ceiling. The waves crashed, roaring and splashing. Benjamin pointed up at the ledge. At first she couldn’t tell what he was pointing at, but then she saw a big dark spot among all the rocks. It could have been a black rock, but she realized it was a hole.

      He came over to her and took her lightly by the shoulders.

      ‘You have to swear not to tell anyone about the cave. Promise?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Good, let’s go in.’

      The cave was about four metres deep and one and a half metres in height. It was cool and damp inside, but the floor was dry. She had the strange sensation as she gazed out at the waves, as if she were in a house floating above the sea.

      Benjamin emptied his backpack. Some kindling, a frying pan, and matches, as well as some cheese, bread, and fruit he’d begged from the kitchen. They got a fire going and grilled chanterelle sandwiches over the fire. They had to eat with their fingers — he’d forgotten cutlery. They chatted nonstop, then sat quietly for a while and gazed out at the sea and the sky, which still hadn’t cleared. Then the fire died out and the cave grew chilly.

      ‘Now we’re going to eat dinner in the village,’ he said. ‘We’re going to Fritjof’s. It’s crab season, and theirs is the best.’

      It was starting to get dark, so they went to the village by the road.

      For a while, they didn’t say anything as they walked. She could hardly make out his face in the dim twilight, but she got the sense that he was brooding about something. His arm had been around her, but he let it slide off her shoulders. She was just about to ask what was on his mind when they arrived at the pub.

      Inside, in the warm light, he seemed normal again. He laughed at her cold, blue fingers and warmed them for her. He joked with the waitress and ordered so much crab and so many sides that there was hardly room on the table. His hair glowed in the light from the candle; it almost looked like it had caught fire.

      She asked about the renovations and their lack of sleep, what he thought of it all.

      ‘We wouldn’t have completed the renovations if Franz hadn’t put his foot down,’ he said firmly.

      ‘So you’re a fanatical follower?’

      ‘Maybe. I mean, ViaTerra is my family. The only family I have.’

      ‘But that doesn’t mean everything about it is perfect, does it?’

      ‘You’re СКАЧАТЬ