131 / 238
131
The sight of Father was the worst. If Ingrid hadn’t known
better she would have thought he was afraid, and he never
is. Islanders are never afraid, if so they wouldn’t be able to
live here, they would have to pack their goods and chattels
and move and be like everyone else on the mainland, it
would be a catastrophe, islanders are broody, beset not
with fear but solemnity.
The solemnity doesn’t disperse until the head of the family
has been outside once more and returns with blood on his
face, remarking with a grin:
‘Lovely weather out there now.’
It takes a while for them to see that this is meant as a joke,
and after they have wiped the blood off him and see that he
has only a small cut on his chin, and after he asks for a cup
of coffee and says that ‘The old rowan has started to lean
eastwards,’ they realise that the wind, this time too, has
turned from the terrible south-west to the west, which is
the first sign that another hurricane is about to subside into
an ordinary storm, and then becomes a northerly and drops
to a strong breeze before finally abating enough for them
to be able to carry water to the cowshed without arriving
with their buckets empty. Barbro and Maria manage to get
them to the animals almost half-full.
Hans remains in the kitchen contemplating while fiddling
with the wound on his chin when he is struck by a sudden