Sommarlek Page #2

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I'm glad you're interested in the

ballet, but we're too busy today.

- It's cold.

- Are your legs cold, miss?

I mean, with silk stockings.

As you're a dancer, miss...

- How do you know I'm a dancer?

- I've seen you, many times.

Especially your last show.

I'm sitting here

thinking that if I...

if I could say what I wanted

to say, I'd say that...

What would you say?

- You'd laugh, miss.

- You think so?

Tell me now!

I'd say...

I'd say that you're the most

beautiful thing I've seen in my life.

There.

- Where will you stay this summer?

- On Kalvholmen.

- And you, miss?

- We have a house on Blakrakan.

- Oh, that's yours?

- Do you know it?

Yeah... the manor.

Gruffman and I

used to scrump apples there.

This is Gruffman. My sister and I

thought he looked gruff...

Anyway, I live at the manor.

Maybe our paths will cross.

At least when you come

to scrump apples!

- Hello again!

- Hello!

- Is the water cold?

- A bit, but it's warm up here.

- Catching any fish?

- No, they're still sleeping.

- Won't you have a swim, miss?

- Too cold.

It's not too bad once you're in.

Do you think

we could drop the formalities?

- I'm all in favour.

- It makes things easier.

Do you live out here?

Over there.

- Over on Kalvholmen.

- Oh yes, you said.

- Are you hungry?

- Why?

Do you like wild strawberries?

I know of a place.

Would you like to go?

- This is it.

- And no one knows about it?

- Yes, you.

- And no one else?

Help yourself!

- What kind of cuckoo is that?

- I don't know much about birds.

I usually call it

the summer holiday bird.

It would sing outside my window

the first morning of

the summer holidays.

It would wake me up.

- Do you live with your parents?

- No, they're divorced.

I've never seen my mum,

and my dad's with another woman.

He gives me money to stay out of the

way. I'd like to do the same to him.

- Where do you and Gruffman live?

- With an old hag... lady.

She's got a moustache.

I love blind kittens. Don't you?

And babies, and people

who other people think are ugly.

And mice, of course. And poodles.

It's not as bad as that.

It's just that

people don't take me seriously.

Oh dear, oh dear, is it that sad?

No one cares about me,

no one but Gruffman.

- Really, no one?

- No, only Gruffman.

- What about me?

- Do you care about me?

Would I have brought you here

otherwise?

I need to think about that.

I'm never going to die.

I'll get really,

really old, but I'm not going to die.

I'm scared. Scared that I, Henrik...

will tip over the edge into something

black, something unknown.

- Why do you talk about that?

- I don't know.

It's something I'm struck by

now and again.

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