I think this is what you want. Do you want her mobile, in case she is at home?”“That would be useful, sir.”Mr Junkin recited the number, and Jul...an wrote it down on the pad he kept on his bedside table.“Thank you, sir. I owe you.”“You do, indeed. Good luck with the girl.”“Bye, sir. Have a happy Christmas.”What now? Julian was in two minds about this question. Should he, out of the blue, phone up the girl and ask her out, or should he wait until they were both back at work when he could speak to. I was terrified of going into the center by myself. These people had all been so warm and welcoming to me at Thanksgiving, but I was with Dag. I wasn’t one of them. I knew that and even though Mrs. Seafeld arranged to put the almond in my dish of risgrynsgröt, it was all to please Dag.When I finally managed to pry myself out of the car (It was getting cold!), I didn’t walk toward the club. I walked around the neighborhood, just looking at the little houses on the hills of Ballard. The streets. More

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