Page 89 of The Bodyguard

“I’ve never actually been to an art show before, so, there’s a first time for everything, huh?”

She grins from ear-to-ear, and it’s infectious. Her smile.

“I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.” She takes another sip of coffee and starts to head off in the direction I’ve just come from, back to our quaint and quiet street. “Come to mine for dinner tonight,” she shouts over her shoulder. “If you want to. I’m cooking lamb.”

And then she disappears into the crowd, and I drop my head and shake it, but I’m still smiling.

This is a new, very different life I’ve created for myself in such a short space of time. And I’m okay with that. I’m okay with how things have turned out… Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. Maybe there are things I would change, if I could, but wanting the impossible is just wasting time. I’m alive. I got out of that shit intact, why put myself in unnecessary danger by even thinking about going back…? No. I’m not going back. I’m not doing that.

Sitting down on a bench overlooking the marina, I stare out at the boats and the people: life going on around me, and I know that I’ve just been standing still. Hoping, wishing, praying that things might change, but they won’t. And I should be used to making new starts, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this. Begin again. But this feels different, somehow. It’s harder to accept, more difficult to take, but I have no choice now. And this place – there are worse places I could’ve chosen, and this is my home. My country. And then there’s Hanna. We’re friends, nothing more, she’s fresh out of a broken relationship, something she only told me a few days ago, and me – well, I’m really not ready to be involved with anyone any time soon, but who’s to say things won’t be different in the future? And I find myself smiling again as I sit back and shield my eyes from the mid-morning sun bouncing off the water. I’m smiling because, for the first time in weeks, I’m imagining a future without lies and the fear of pain and hurt and – death. Jesus, what the fuck was I thinking? This is me now. This is where I need to be,to be able to put the past – all of it – behind me. And, yeah, I’mokay with that. Finally.

Twenty-Two

Jonah

“That one there, that’s my favourite.”

Hanna stops in front of a huge rectangular painting of a lone sunflower looming large against a cornflower-blue sky. A simple painting, but it’s actually rather striking. The colours are startling, so realistic I find myself gasping, and Hanna laughs quietly.

“You like it?”

“It’s, erm… it’s quite stunning.” I look at her, and smile. “How do you do that?”

She crosses her arms, cocking her head slightly as she glances up at the painting. “Do what?”

“Make it look so – I don’t know. So lifelike?”

She grins at me, nudging me gently. “Three days hanging around art galleries and already you’re starting to appreciate this shit, huh?”

I laugh, briefly dropping my head, because she’s right, actually. I’ve loved being here, with her. She’s been showing me around the kind of places I’d never dreamed of going into before, introducing me to her friends, her world. Her life. I’m still holding out on bringing her closer to mine, but I’m not saying it’ll never happen. I like being with her, she’s so different to…

Lena.

“The gallery’s already had queries about this painting,” Hanna continues, and I look at her, and she turns her head and smiles at me again, and I know I made the right decision to come here, to Stockholm, with her. I needed something different, and Hanna, she’s different. “So, you know. It should sell pretty quickly. And make me some much-needed money.”

“That’s great.”

“Still can’t believe it’s happening, to be honest. I guess dreams do come true, sometimes.”

Maybe. For the lucky ones. “I guess they do.”

I follow her as she wanders over to a painting that’s yet to be hung, leaning against a pure white wall. A painting of sand dunes and sea and when I look at it I feel a calm wash over me. Its tranquillity is something I crave now, that sense of peace. Of solitude, almost.

“You like this one?”

I look at Hanna, suddenly aware of just how much I must’ve been staring at that painting. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Is that somewhere you’ve been to before? A place familiar to you?”

She shakes her head. “It’s a place I imagine, in my head.” She looks at the painting, a slow, small smile crossing her face. “A place I’d like to be, sometimes.”

I watch her as she gathers her long dark hair together and pulls it back into a ponytail, her eyes still on that painting.

“But places like that exist.” She turns her gaze on me, and she’s smiling again. “In real life, I imagine.”

“Yeah. I think they do.”

“Anyway…” She spins around on her heels and scans the gallery. It’s almost ready for the showing tonight, just one or two more paintings to hang. The low hum of chatter from the other side of the gallery fills the air, along with the clinking of glass and cutlery as the caterers arrive to set up drinks and lay out canapes. There’s a relaxed air about the place, and I can tell that Hanna’s very much in her comfort zone. I’m way out of mine. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s where I need to be.

“I should go back to the hotel. Get ready for tonight.” I’m sensing Hanna needs some time to check in with the gallery staff; make sure everything really is ready for tonight.

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