The Journey to the End of the World (Joel Gustafson Stories) by Henning Mankell Read Free Book Online Page A

vanished.’
    ‘She packed a case and left.’
    Joel waited for what was coming next, but nothing did.
    ‘Is that all? Just packed a case and left?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Surely there must be something else?’
    ‘The suitcase was brown. She was wearing a green coat. And a red hat. I can’t remember what colour her shoes were.’
    ‘And you were in the forest?’
    ‘I was in the forest.’
    ‘Where was I?’
    ‘You were downstairs in old Mrs Westman’s flat. She used to take care of you when Jenny was out shopping, or taking an afternoon nap.’
    ‘And you knew nothing about it? You hadn’t seen her packing her case? Or going to the railway station to buy a ticket?’
    ‘She took a bus.’
    ‘Didn’t she leave a letter?’
    ‘No, nothing at all. The only thing on the table was the outside door key.’
    Joel felt as if he were going round in circles. Now it was time to stop and jump into the middle. Where the important questions were.
    ‘Had you been quarrelling?’
    ‘No.’
    One more jump now, Joel. A bit closer to the middle.
    ‘Had you been drinking?’
    There was a pause before the answer came. But come it did.
    ‘I hadn’t been drinking. I didn’t drink in those days. Not when she was around. Never ever. And if she hadn’t left me I’d never have started either.’
    Joel was right in the middle now. He couldn’t get any further in.
    ‘Mums don’t run away like that. It’s dads who vanish. Not mums. Something must have happened.’
    Samuel sat up on the bed. So violently that it gave Joel a start. He thought he must have said something that had made Samuel angry.
    But the eyes that were looking at Joel were not angry. They were Samuel’s normal eyes. Tired and perhaps a little sad.
    ‘Do you think I haven’t been wondering about that?’ said Samuel. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for thirteen years. Every single day. Why did she leave me? All I know is that she’s the only person who can answer that question. And that’s why we’re here. I want to know. Once and for all. Why she packed her case and left us.’
    ‘Maybe she won’t want to tell us,’ said Joel hesitantly.
    Samuel had lain down again.
    ‘At least she ought to explain it to you,’ he said after a while. ‘You’re her son after all.’
    The sound of a vacuum cleaner came from the corridor. Joel looked out of the window. The rain was easing off.
    ‘What shall we do?’ he asked.
    ‘First we’ll have something to eat,’ said Samuel. ‘Then we’ll go and buy you some clothes. And then we’ll go looking for Mummy Jenny.’
    ‘I don’t need any clothes,’ said Joel.
    ‘I’ve no intention of letting you meet your mum in scruffy old clothes,’ said Samuel. ‘But we don’t need to buy the most expensive clobber we can find.’
    The rain died away.
    Soon there was just the occasional drop on the window ledge. Samuel disappeared into the corridor, looking for a bathroom where he could get shaved.
    Joel was looking at a painting hanging on the wall above the chest of drawers.
    It depicted a woman with large breasts sitting down under a tree, leaning against the trunk. Next to her was a man kneeling down and playing the violin.
    Joel started to think about Sonja Mattsson. If only he’d known her number, he could have phoned her from reception.
    But what would he say to her?
    This is that idiot Joel who’s come to Stockholm and had his rucksack nicked. Come and rescue me.
    He banished the thought. Took another look at the picture. The woman leaning against the tree really did have very big breasts. He went to the mirror next to the door. Examined his face. From the front. Then in profile. When he turned his head he got cramp in his shoulder. He swore and shook his arm until the cramp eased off. Had another look at himself. That quiff over his forehead refused to go away. He tried to imagine himself with hair like The Black Wave. Put on a make-believe tie and black pointed shoes. Then he clenched his fist and gave The