“Half past eight.”
“We’ll have to take a few shortcuts. We can’t stay behind this trailer,
that’s for sure.”
They turned off into a large wheatfield. Sophie looked back and saw that
they had left a broad trail of flattened stalks.
“Tomorrow they’ll say a freak wind blew over the field,” said Alberto.
***
Major Albert Knag had just landed at Kastrup Airport outside Copenhagen. It
was half past four on Saturday, June 23. It had already been a long day. This
penultimate lap had been by plane from Rome.
He went through passport control in his UN uniform, which he was proud to
wear. He represented not only himself and his country. Albert Knag represented an in-
ternational legal system—a century-old tradition that now embraced the entire planet.
He carried only a flight bag. He had checked the rest of his baggage through
from Rome. He just needed to hold up his red passport.
“Nothing to declare.”
Major Albert Knag had a nearly three-hour wait in the airport before his plane
left for Kristiansand. He would have time to buy a few presents for his family. He had
sent the present of his life to Hilde two weeks ago. Marit, his wife, had put it on her
bedside table for her to discover when she woke up on her birthday. He had not
spoken with Hilde since that late night birthday call.
Albert bought a couple of Norwegian newspapers, found himself a table in the
bar, and ordered a cup of coffee. He had hardly had time to skim the headlines when
he heard an announcement over the loudspeakers: “This is a personal call for Albert
Knag. Albert Knag is requested to contact the SAS information desk.”
What now? He felt a chill down his spine. Surely he was not being ordered back
to Lebanon? Could something be wrong at home?
He quickly reached the SAS information desk.
“I’m Albert Knag.”
“Here is a message for you. It is urgent.”
He opened the envelope at once. Inside lay a smaller envelope. It was addressed
to Major Albert Knag, c/o SAS Information, Kastrup Airport, Copenhagen.
Albert opened the little envelope nervously. It contained a short note:
Dear Dad, Welcome home from Lebanon. As you can imagine, I can’t even
wait till you get home. Forgive me for having you paged over the loud-speakers. It
was the easiest way.
P.S. Unfortunately a claim for damages has arrived from financial adviser
Ingebrigtsen regarding a stolen and wrecked Mercedes.
P.S. P.S. I may be sitting in the garden when you get here. But you might also
be hearing from me before that.
P.S. P.S. P.S. I’m rather scared of staying in the garden too long at a time. It’s
so easy to sink into the ground in such places. Love from Hilde, who has had plenty
of time to prepare your homecoming.
Major Albert Knag’s first impulse was to smile. But he did not appreciate being
manipulated in this manner. He had always liked to be in charge of his own life. Now
this little vixen in Lillesand was directing his movements in Kastrup Airport! How
had she managed that?
He put the envelope in his breast pocket and began to stroll toward the little