She suddenly realized she was on the wrong road, and braked. Thinking about the family and the past ten years had made her miss the first exit. She laughed to herself, shook her head, and looked around carefully before making a U-turn and retracing her steps.

Skane is a beautiful place, she thought to herself. Pretty and open. Yet secretive as well. What seemed at first sight to be so flat could suddenly change and reveal deep hollows with houses and farms like isolated islands. She never ceased to be amazed by the changing nature of the landscape when she drove around to look at houses or show them to prospective buyers.

She pulled onto the shoulder after Erikslund to check the directions the widow had given. She was right. She took a left and could see the road to Krageholm ahead of her; it was beautiful. The terrain was hilly, and the road wriggled its way through the Krageholm forest where the lake lay glittering away beyond the deciduous woods to the left. She had often driven along that road, and never tired of it.

After some seven kilometers she started looking for the final turnoff. The widow had described it as a dirt road, ungraveled but easily negotiable. She slowed down when she saw it and turned right; according to the map, the house would be on the left-hand side in about a kilometer.

After three kilometers the road suddenly petered out, and she realized she must be wrong after all.

Just for a moment she was tempted to forget about the house and drive straight home instead. But she resisted the thought and went back to the Krageholm road. About five hundred meters further north she turned right again. There were no houses answering to the description here, either. She sighed, turned around, and decided to stop and ask the way. Shortly before, she had passed a house half hidden behind a clump of trees.

She stopped, switched off the engine and got out of the car. There was a fresh smell from the trees. She started walking towards the house, a white-painted, half-timbered, U-shaped building, the kind Skane is full of. Only one of the wings was still standing, however. In the middle of the front yard was a well with a black-painted pump.