Page 162 of The Sleepwalker
‘My last date, or whatever you want to call him, was radicalised,’ she says, cracking her fingers nervously.
‘OK?’
‘We were both studying political science, but he started getting sucked in by all this white power, conspiracy theory stuff.’
‘Boy, bye.’ Hugo sighs.
‘Right? Bye bye, on a personal level .?.?. But at the same time, right-wing populism is more to do with social injustice than anything .?.?. The sense that people have been left behind.’
‘Should be an open goal for the left,’ he says, kissing three fingers and raising his hand.
‘I know. But I’m not going to waste another minute on him.’
‘Good.’
‘So you’ve got a girlfriend? Was it Olga you said? What’s the deal with you two?’
‘We’re not official or anything, but we’ve got plans .?.?. She’s actually the one who said I should try to find my mum. We’ve opened a bank account together, to save up for the trip.’
‘Does it cost a lot to go to Canada?’
‘Yeah, but mostly because we want to be able to stay for a while,’ he says, showing her the account balance on his phone.
‘Woah .?.?. That’s, like, the deposit for a flat or something.’
With a slight smile, she pours more tequila and reaches for another wedge of lemon. They clink egg cups and drink, slamming them down even harder this time. Hugo gazes intoher pale-blue eyes. Her skin is like mother-of-pearl beneath her freckles.
‘I think I’m kind of attracted to you,’ he hears himself say.
‘Oof,’ she replies, looking genuinely surprised.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, but—’
‘No, no.’
‘But it’s true.’
‘I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,’ she says. ‘Because you’re, like .?.?. so confident and cool and famous and everything.’
‘Ha,’ he says. ‘Not true, but thanks anyway.’
They drink again, bite down on the lemon and laugh. Svanhildur points to his egg cup with a smile and accuses him of cheating, claiming that there is still some tequila left in the bottom.
‘Cheating?’
He turns his egg cup upside down and waits. After a moment, a solitary droplet falls to the table.
‘See!’ She laughs.
‘Turn yours over!’
‘I’m a virgin,’ she confesses, still laughing.
‘Seriously?’
Svanhildur looks down, her freckled cheeks now scarlet. She brushes the last of the salt from her hand, takes a deep breath and meets his eye.
‘If we’re talking full intercourse, yeah,’ she explains, pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. ‘I’ve done some stuff, obviously. But not, you know .?.?. It’s just never felt right .?.?. You probably think I’m a total loser now.’
