smoke and mince, and then sell most of what they have gathered to other people and various outlets. But if I have understood their marital conspiracy right, they take plenty of breaks and have lots of cosy times together, completely oblivious of my presence and my unsatisfied needs.
‘Ragna!’ I call out one afternoon, my voice perhaps unnecessarily sharp, but it’s because I feel up to things and much better. ‘Ragna!’ I call out again. ‘Have you remembered what I asked you about?’
Everything goes quiet in the kitchen.
‘What’s that, then?’ comes the piercing reply after a while.
‘Books,’ I say sternly, my voice out of control. ‘Why didn’t you bring any home last time?’
I can hear them moving around uneasily in there.
‘Yes, books. At the library. It’s ages since you were last there.’
‘What a bloody fusspot,’ Johan says quietly, as if to himself.