They had let things calm down as far as was possible. He was drinking coffee in the living room and Martina came in from the kitchen.

“Winter and Angela are going to live together,” he said.

“Why do you call him Winter when his name’s Erik? People don’t refer to us as Bergenhem and Martina, do they?”

“No, of course not, but people just usually call him Winter.”

“It’s not so personal that way, is that it? Does that make it easier? Is that what it’s all about?”

“I… I really don’t know.”

Martina had met Angela for the first time nearly two years earlier, just before Ada was born. It had been pretty dramatic. Bergenhem had been badly injured and had disappeared and Winter had asked Angela to go with Martina in the ambulance while he searched for his colleague.

“I hope it turns out well,” she said as he sat, lost in thought. “I think it will.”

“What?”

“The move. Moving in together. Erik and Angela. I hope it goes well.”

“Yes.”

“Where are they going to live?”

“I haven’t asked. But I… well, I suppose the obvious place is his apartment. It’s bigger than hers.”

“How do you know?”

He looked at her. She was smiling now.

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth,” he said. “It’s funny. I just took it for granted.”

“Perhaps they’ll buy a house.”

“I can’t imagine Winter in a house.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know… He seems part of the city somehow. High-rise buildings, squares, taxis.”

“I don’t think so. He’ll buy an old house in Långedrag and fill it with his family.”

“That sounds like Utopia.”

“It will soon be the year 2000,” she said. “Anything can happen.”

Not quite anything, he thought. Some things mustn’t happen. It would be best if everything stays as it is, as it is just now.