Harbour

He stopped with the net folded over his arm and shook his head.

You have to. However hard it might be. For their sake. You can't do this to them.

He knew it was true. With the net pressed against his chest he waited for the darkness to pounce, to punish him for his hesitation. But it didn't come. It trusted him. It could wait.

Tomorrow.

He knew that Simon and Anna-Greta were going on their little honeymoon to Finland the following day. He could do it then. And he could also show them the consideration of not doing it here, in their house. That would be inestimably selfish, and besides he knew exactly where it should be done, the perfect place for gifts and sacrifices.

Gently he moved the cock back and hid the loaded gun behind the nets, went back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee while he waited for Simon.

Simon didn't come.

It had been agreed that they would catch the one o'clock boat together, but it got to half-past twelve, quarter to one and there was no sign of Simon. Anders thought he must have misunderstood in his preoccupied state the previous evening, and that they were supposed to meet at the jetty.

He would pretend to be alive for one more day, for their sake. Then that would be an end to his consideration for others. It was bad enough that they would find out when they came back from their trip, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't carry on living just to make them happy.

But he would pretend for one more day, so while he smoked a cigarette he checked his appearance in the hall mirror to see if he would pass muster for a wedding. The white shirt and trousers were slightly too big for him, but the shoes were a surprisingly good fit. On the coat hooks he found one of Simon's old jackets and pulled it on.

When he closed the door behind him to be welcomed by yet another grey, overcast day, he thought he could probably get through this too. The gun was loaded and ready, it was only a matter of perhaps twenty hours before it would be put to use.

For the moment the darkness seemed satisfied that the preparations had been carried out, and it even took its eyes off him a couple of times as he made his way down to the steamboat jetty.

Simon wasn't there either. There were about twenty people gathered on the jetty, all dressed up in their best clothes and all on their way to Naten and the wedding, but the bridegroom was missing. Anders went over to Elof Lundberg. He was wearing a very grand overcoat, which didn't go with the inevitable cap at all.

'Have you seen Simon?'

'No,' said Elof. 'Isn't he already there, then?'

'Yes. I suppose he is.'

Anders moved away and tried to remember what Simon had said.

He was going to look for water at Goran's place, wasn't he?

Anders looked around, but Goran wasn't on the jetty either. He wasn't proud of it, but a terrible little hope flickered into life within Anders: something had happened. Something that would mean the wedding had to be postponed. Something that would allow him to go back to the hidey-hole today, after all.

The tender glided alongside and there was chattering and laughter as the wedding guests climbed aboard. As it reversed out Anders stood in the prow, looking over towards Simon's jetty. Perhaps he had taken his own boat over to Naten?

But the boat was by the jetty, and there was no sign of the bridegroom anywhere.

Proof of eligibility

Anders stayed in the prow for the whole crossing and didn't speak to anyone; when they hove to he was the first one off, and walked quickly towards the church. Behind him came the wedding guests, chattering noisily.

Naten church was in a beautiful spot on a small hill close to the sea, and the churchyard covered the entire slope down to the shore, where the emblematic anchor that adorned every written communication from the church lay like a brake, as if to stop the headstones and crosses from tumbling down into the sea.

The wedding ceremony wasn't due to start for half an hour. Anders guessed that those who were about to be married would usually wait for the exact moment in the community centre beyond the churchyard gate. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he stepped inside.

Two long tables were laid for the guests, and an extravagantly decorated buffet was displayed on a smaller table in the middle of the room. He could hear women's voices from behind a door at the far end.

She has to be told.

The sound of the guests' voices was getting closer. Anders walked to the other end of the room, tapped on the door and opened it.

Despite the fact that he was committed to death and that nothing mattered any more, he couldn't help but be taken aback at the sight of his grandmother in her wedding finery.

Anna-Greta's long, grey hair had been arranged in a wave-like style that caught the pale light from the window, so that it poured down over her in cascades of silver. The white flowers on her beige dress reinforced the impression of a borrowed starlit glow that reached all the way up to her forehead. Her face had been skilfully made up to bring out the sparkle in her eyes.

Next to her, two women of the same age sat fiddling with something on her dress. Anders looked quickly around the room. No Simon.

'How do I look?' asked Anna-Greta.

'Wonderful,' said Anders honestly. 'Has Simon been here?'

'No.' The sparkle in Anna-Greta's eyes dulled a little. 'Hasn't he arrived?'

Anders shook his head and Anna-Greta made a move to go out and check for herself, but one of the women held her back and said, 'Don't worry, he'll come. Now stand still.'

Anna-Greta flung her arms wide in a helpless gesture as if to show that she was a captive. 'Go and wait with the others,' she said. 'I'm sure he'll be here.'

Anders backed out of the room and left her in the hands of her guards. He had done what he could. It was no longer his problem. And yet he felt sorry for Anna-Greta. So pretty, so dressed up, so full of anticipation. His little grandma.

Because he knew that Simon would not come. That somehow or other he had been captured by the forces that were on the move. End of story. Simon was gone, and Anders intended to catch the three o'clock boat back and put an end to all his sorrows.

It was quarter to two when Anders walked up to the church and looked in through the open door. Some thirty people were seated in the pews. The guests who had come over on the tender had been supplemented by people from Naten and those who had come in their own boats. Up by the altar the priest was adjusting a bunch of white roses in a vase.

The slope drew Anders down to the churchyard, and he wandered among the gravestones. He stood for a long time in front of the family grave where both his father and his grandfather stood alone with their names beneath Torgny and Maja. Presumably Anna-Greta would make sure that his own name was added at the bottom of the column of lone men.

And Simon? Where will Simon end up?

At just after two, people started coming out of the church to see what was happening, or rather to see why nothing was happening. Anders carried on down to the water's edge to avoid being spoken to. He stopped in front of the huge anchor and read the plaque.

IN MEMORY OF THOSE LOST AT SEA

Anders ran his hand over the rusty cast iron, over the treated wood. It would be more fitting for him to be buried here, beneath the anchor, because he had been lost at sea and then wandered around pointlessly on dry