Another slip of the tongue, the villain! Sophie had a strong desire to turn around
and hammer on the door but something held her back.
On reaching the street she remembered that she had no money on her. She
would have to walk all the long way home. How annoying! Her mother would be both
angry and worried if she didn’t get back by six, that was for sure.
She had not gone more than a few yards when she suddenly noticed a coin on
the sidewalk. It was ten crowns, exactly the price of a bus ticket.
Sophie found her way to the bus stop and waited for a bus to the Main Square.
From there she could take a bus on the same ticket and ride almost to her door.
Not until she was standing at the Main Square waiting for the second bus did
she begin to wonder why she had been lucky enough to find the coin just when she
needed it.
Could Hilde’s father have left it there? He was a master at leaving things in the
most convenient places.
How could he, if he was in Lebanon?
And why had Alberto made that slip? Not once but twice!
Sophie shivered. She felt a chill run down her spine.
The Baroque
…such stuff as dreams are made on…
Sophie heard nothing more from Alberto for several days, but she glanced
frequently into the garden hoping to catch sight of Hermes. She told her mother that
the dog had found its own way home and that she had been invited in by its owner, a
former physics teacher. He had told Sophie about the solar system and the new
science that developed in the sixteenth century.
She told Joanna more. She told her all about her visit to Alberto, the postcard in
the mailbox, and the ten-crown piece she had found on the way home. She kept the
dream about Hilde and the gold crucifix to herself.
On Tuesday, May 29, Sophie was standing in the kitchen doing the dishes. Her
mother had gone into the living room to watch the TV news. When the opening theme
faded out she heard from the kitchen that a major in the Norwegian UN Battalion had
been killed by a shell.
Sophie threw the dish towel on the table and rushed into the living room. She
was just in time to catch a glimpse of the UN officer’s face for a few seconds before
they switched to the next item.
“Oh no!” she cried.
Her mother turned to her.
“Yes, war is a terrible thing!”
Sophie burst into tears.
“But Sophie, it’s not that bad!”
“Did they say his name?”
“Yes, but I don’t remember it. He was from Grimstad, I think.”
“Isn’t that the same as Lillesand?”
“No, you’re being silly.”
“But if you come from Grimstad, you might go to school in Lillesand.”
She had stopped crying, but now it was her mother’s turn to react. She got out
of her chair and switched off the TV.
“What’s going on, Sophie?”
“Nothing.”