Page 134 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt

‘As you know, Felix has had a difficult life. He is... a little disruptive,’ Horst said diplomatically.

‘Well then, he is his father’s son!’

A faint smile played on Astrid’s lips. ‘He is indeed. But young Felix is much more of a troublemaker. It’s not his fault. He misses his mother and father very much.’

‘I can only imagine,’ I said truthfully.

As if on cue, I heard the front door to the cottage swing open, and loudly slam. A young man, who was the spit of Pip – but with Karine’s dark hair and deep brown eyes – peered into the living room.

‘Felix Halvorsen! You’re not even halfway through the school day. What are you doing home?’ asked Astrid.

Felix gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘I didn’t want to stay. The lessons today are so boring.’ He locked eyes with me. ‘Who are you?’

‘Felix!’ snapped Horst. ‘Don’t be so rude!’

‘That’s quite all right,’ I replied. ‘This young man has a right to know who is in his house!’ I stood up and went to shake his hand. ‘Hello, Felix. My name is Bo. I was a close friend of your parents. I remember you from when you were just a little baby.’

He eventually took my hand. ‘You knew Pip and Karine?’ he asked.

‘Yes, very well. They were exceptionally kind to me when I needed it the most. I will never forget them. Not to mention your grandparents here, who agreed to house and feed a complete stranger.’

He eyed me. ‘If you were so close to my parents, why have I never met you before?’

‘For goodness’ sake, Felix. Be polite to our guest, will you?’ chastised Astrid.

‘What? I’m just remarking that clearly he wasn’t that close to Mum and Dad if I’ve never seen him before.’

I accepted his anger. ‘You’re right, Felix. I should have been back in the intervening years, and I have not. I sincerely apologise. I am glad to see you have grown up to be a forthright, opinionated young man. Your parents would be very proud of you.’

‘Not if he keeps skipping school, they wouldn’t be,’ quipped Horst.

Felix frowned. ‘Oh shush, Grandpa. I can learn more from an afternoon with you on the piano anyway. I’m going to practise.’ He stomped off up the stairs to his bedroom. I couldn’t help but smile at the attitude of Pip and Karine’s son, so full of the spirit they had once possessed. I meant what I said to him. His parents decidedlywouldbe exceptionally proud.

‘Young Felix is a musician too?’ I asked.

Horst shrugged. ‘What can I say? It is in the genes. I tell you, even though he is a little tearaway, he is a supremely talented pianist. I think, musically, even better than Pip.’ Horst suddenly looked deeply sad. ‘And that is saying something.’

I walked over to my old friend and put a hand on his arm. ‘I know how thankful he would be for what you and Astrid are doing for his son. Karine, too.’ Horst’s eyes twinkled with tears. ‘It was so good to see you both again. Thank you for the tea, Astrid.’

‘You’re really going so soon? You’ve only just walked in the door!’

‘I wouldn’t want to impose upon you,’ I replied. ‘I’ve done quite enough of that for one lifetime.’

‘Don’t be silly, young man!’ Astrid said sternly. ‘In fact, we will not debate this. You will be staying for dinner. Where are your lodgings?’

‘I...’

Astrid wagged her finger at me. ‘For goodness’ sake, Bo! Don’t tell me you have nowhere to stay?’

‘I planned to check myself into the Grand Hotel and catch a ferry to France tomorrow morning.’

‘France?’ Horst enquired. ‘Why France?’

‘It is Elle’s home country. I think it is feasible that she could have returned to Paris, where we met.’

Astrid approached me and put both hands on my elbows. ‘Fine, go to France if you must and continue with your mission, but for a few days, Horst and I insist that you stay with us.’ She looked up at me with pleading eyes.

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘I would be delighted to.’