Page 86 of The Happiness Blueprint
Shared Calendar
• NEW TASK:Fly to London
• NEW TASK:Go to Klara’s house
New Note: (Putting this all here in case you see it, Klara, and don’t want the surprise. Hope you do. Think you do. But just in case)
I have arrived in London. Saga provided me with the details I needed to plan a smooth trip to Klara’s home: address, Tube line and a telling-off. “It’s about time, Alex. I hope it’s not too bloody late, you moron.” I deserved it so thanked her for the good-luck wishes.
Klara lives in a narrow, whitewashed house wedged in a row of almost identical houses on a quiet street. I walk up the small front garden to the door and can see someone peering out of a curtain on the second floor, like a nosy neighbor. I can’t make out whether it’s Klara or not; all I see are eyes gleaming against the dark like a cat’s. I hope this someone will open the door for me.
She does.
“Hola.”She has pale freckles and a smile that seems permanent. I notice her well-manicured nails because they are profoundly different to Klara’s bitten-down ones. I shift uncomfortably, even though I’m prepared.
“Jo napot.”She looks at me like one big question mark, her head even tilted sideways, just the dot on the bottom missing.
“RandomHelloin Hungarian,” I explain, and she laughs, then stops as if she remembers herself and clenches her mouth shut.
“You’re the guy who messed things up with my roommate.”
“I prefer the guy who fell in love with her,thenmessed itup,” I say.
“Don’t you get it? You don’t mess it up with Klara. She may seem rock-solid, but she’s fragile.”
“Can I come in?”
“Did you come to apologize?” she asks.
There is no point in not being transparent.
“I did.”
“Well, since you have pure intentions, come in.”
I follow her inside a narrow hallway into an open kitchen and living room. Their house is full of stuff, colorful and warm. It’s a bit like two grannies who can’t bring themselves to throw anything away, love of knits and flower details strong, but who equally enjoy contemporary interior design.
“Here.” Alice puts a plate of cinnamon rolls on the kitchen counter, which I’ve chosen as my spot to stand and wait.
“So she’s baking again?” I say, remembering the national-identity crisis that inspired the hot cross buns last month. She has that in common with Mamma.
“Yep. Had only just arrived when she dug out the ingredients. All Swedish stuff.”
I’m definitely not in the mood for something sweet, but it’s Klara who made them, and it’s like I have her next to me insisting, and I don’t want to be rude. I’m eating the bun when the front door makes itself known through a loud keyhole clink. Alice disappears, and Klara is in front of me.Finally.
“Alex,” she says, and I breathe deep as something inside me relaxes at the mere sight of her.
KLARA
Should you forgive the person who loves you the most?
Google Search I’m Feeling Lucky
Alex. In my flat. In London. It doesn’t make sense; it feels like he belongs to a different world. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped and wished for this moment, that he would come after me. As improbable as I thought it was—no one chases after Klara Nilsson of 243A Munster Road. She is someone you stumble into, at best. Keep for convenience rather than desire.
“I’ve missed you,” he says.
“You missed my calls, as well.”
