Page 232 of The Sleepwalker
She looks up, nods and gives him an absent smile.
The gale thunders in the chimney, and a sudden downdraught causes sparks to fly inside the stove just as a large amount of snow hits the window.
‘Crikey,’ says Bernard.
‘Have you guys been out?’ asks Hugo.
‘We’re supposed to stay indoors. Come on, sit down.’
Hugo takes a seat on the footstool and holds his hands to the stove. He feels the heat on his face, and his fingers start to tingle as they slowly warm up.
‘Would you like a whisky?’ asks Bernard.
‘Seriously?’
‘Special circumstances.’
‘I could go for some wine,’ Hugo replies.
‘Some wine it is, then.’ Bernard smiles and pours him a tumbler.
‘Thanks.’
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘Cheers.’
Hugo toasts with his father and tries to meet Agneta’s eye, but she is staring at the fire, at the charred wood and flickering embers.
‘What do you think? Is it ready for the sausages?’
‘Maybe a bit longer?’ Hugo replies.
Agneta doesn’t speak. She seems lost in thought, absentmindedly scratching at a stain on the arm of her denim shirt.
‘You OK, Agneta?’ Hugo asks.
‘Fine,’ she replies, looking him straight in the eye.
‘Are you?’ Bernard says, giving her a strange smile.
‘You two are being really weird. Have you been fighting or something?’
‘Fighting? No. It’s probably just the storm .?.?. and because we couldn’t get hold of you,’ says Bernard.
There is another low rumble inside the chimney. The sound is ominous, like trumpets deep underground. Hugo shuffles back from the stove and feels the cool wine on his lips as he takes a sip from his glass.
‘Dad, I know you really like Lars, that you’re friends and stuff,’ he says. ‘But it seems like he’s been giving me and some of the other patients meds that actually make us worse, that make us sleepwalkmore, rather than less .?.?.’
‘He’s extremely focused on his research.’
‘Yeah, I get that it’s all for his research, but it’s just so .?.?. unethical.’
‘It’s not always an easy line to draw.’
‘Would you stop defending him?’ Hugo says, both amused and surprised.
