The huge table was covered with silver cups of all sizes, and bottles of champagne were lined up at the ready. The odd paparazzo wandered around, searching for famous faces. Members of the royal family sometimes took part in various sailing competitions, so there was a good chance of success for the photographers.
Henrik spotted his crewmates and skillfully piloted Nora through the crowd to reach them. He scooped up two glasses of champagne in passing without so much as breaking his stride.
Nora cheerfully greeted Henrik’s friends and their respective partners. She had met the other wives before, but they weren’t close friends like the men. Most of the women either worked part-time, or not at all. Those who did work had some “appropriate” occupation, such as standing behind the counter at an interior design shop.
Nora, who struggled to combine her full-time job as a legal adviser with the bank and her role as the mother of two young boys, always felt slightly out of place in their company. She would think carefully before saying anything about how she spent her days. If someone had just been talking about the difficulty of getting an awkward customer to choose a particular fabric for her sofa, the contrast would be quite marked when she started describing negotiations involving loans worth tens of millions of kronor.
She always had the feeling that the others secretly shook their heads at her ambition, her determination to pursue a career.
As they took their places at the table, Nora realized how hungry she was. She polished off the ridiculously small starter of whitefish roe on toast in just a couple of bites while attempting to converse with Johan Wrede, one of the guests at their table.
Johan and Henrik had studied medicine together, and their families had known each other since forever. When she and Henrik got married, Johan had given a long and boring speech detailing every single sailing incident they had been involved in, none of them of any interest whatsoever to anyone else.
“So, how are the children?” Johan asked as he raised his glass to Nora.
“Fine, thanks,” Nora said, nodding to acknowledge the gesture. “They love spending the summer here.”
“Have they got many friends?” Johan asked. His children were younger; he had a three-year-old girl and a little boy of nine months.
“Tons. The island is crawling with kids. There’s no shortage of playmates around here.”
“It seems as if quite a lot of new summer residents are coming over these days. There have been a fair number of houses for sale lately, hasn’t there?”
Nora could only agree. Despite the sharp price increases, low interest rates in recent years had led to dream deals on attractive properties with a sea view. Unfortunately, this also meant that many siblings could no longer afford to buy each other out when their parents passed away, so even more properties came onto the market for prospective buyers to fight over. The buyers were often rich Swedes who lived abroad, spending just a few weeks each summer on the island. For the rest of the year the houses stood silent and empty, making the little community even more desolate in winter.
“You’re right. Several old houses that have been in one family for generations have been sold over the past few months. I think it’s really sad,” Nora said.
Johan looked at her, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Wasn’t there some place that went for six or seven million last year?” He gave a long, low whistle. “Just for the summer!”
Nora grimaced and nodded. “Yes. And another in the middle of the village went for almost as much. It’s crazy, when you think about it.” She speared a piece of steak with her fork and went on. “It’s a terrible state of affairs. Soon ordinary people won’t be able to buy out here at all.”
Johan held out his glass to a passing waitress for a top off. “So what are they like, these people who spend millions on a house?”
Nora thought for a moment. She pictured several of the families who had come to Sandhamn over the past few years. “They’re like anyone else, I suppose. But with more money. Some of them try to fit in as best they can, while others have no sense of community at all. Some families spend a fortune restoring the property they’ve bought, while others ruin the place by getting rid of everything and doing it up to fit in with the latest trends. Or they build ghastly extensions that don’t look right at all.” She fell silent, thinking about a house that had been particularly dilapidated. “One or two have turned out really well, I must admit. So in a way you could say it’s a kind of cultural bonus.”
“If you spend that kind of money on a place just for the summer, I suppose you can do what you like,” Johan said.
Nora shook her head. She didn’t agree with that at all. “If you come to a place like Sandhamn, you have to adapt and follow the unwritten rules. For example, it’s always been tradition that everyone can walk right around the island. You can’t just buy a house and build a fence right down to the water’s edge, even if the land forms part of your property. If you don’t like the local customs, then you can take your millions and buy an island of your own. I mean, they obviously have the resources.” The last comment came out more sharply than she had intended. But she couldn’t hide her frustration over recent developments and the careless attitude many of the new owners displayed toward both permanent residents and visitors who had spent their summers on the island for many years. Suddenly the original benefits, like the opportunity to fish or hunt, had begun to be valued in a completely different way. Many things that in the past had been an integral part of life on Sandhamn were now being reassessed, and came with a price tag. It gave Nora the unpleasant feeling that everything was for sale. Everything could be bought or sold.
But there was no point in sitting here at a wonderful dinner and getting annoyed. She quickly raised her glass to Johan in order to take the sting out of her words. “Let’s drink to the excellent results of the regatta,” she said with a smile.
As usual, the restaurant got hot and stuffy as the guests dived into the main course; the ancient clubhouse had never had much in the way of air conditioning. The waiters scurried between the tables in spite of the temperature being around eighty-six degrees, and the gentlemen had removed their jackets long ago.
Everyone was laughing and chatting. The atmosphere was perfect.
No one even mentioned the recent deaths.
CHAPTER 40
The dancing began after dinner. The same band had been playing at the Yacht Club for the past eighteen years. Nora had been a teenager when they’d first started, and the boys in the band just a few years older. At the time she had thought the guitarist was the best-looking boy she had ever seen.
Not anymore.
Henrik asked Nora to dance as the band struck up with “Lady in Red.” She had always thought they danced well together; they both had rhythm and found it easy to keep the beat. Nora felt much better about everything now. And things were bound to work out with the job in Malmö. If she got it. She ran her fingers down Henrik’s spine and breathed in the scent of him. She could never remember the name of his aftershave, but she would recognize it anywhere. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the music, feeling the melody all through her body.
After one more dance they went out onto the veranda to get some fresh air and cool down. The packed dance floor created an almost sauna-like heat.