The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

Harry shook his head.
‘Why not?’
‘Well,’ Harry said, ‘I might have been wrong. Then I could have returned quietly without losing
face.’
‘That wasn’t why,’ she said.
Harry glanced at her again. She looked more fed up than he did.
‘To be frank, I have no idea,’ he said. ‘I suppose I hoped it wouldn’t be her after all.’
‘Because she’s like you? Because it could have been you?’
Harry couldn’t even remember telling her they were similar.
‘She looked so alone and frightened,’ Harry said as the snowflakes stung his eyes. ‘Like someone
who’s got lost in the twilight.’
Fuck, fuck, fuck! He blinked and felt the tears, like a clenched fist, trying to force their way up his
windpipe. Was he having a breakdown? He froze as Rakel’s warm hand caressed his neck.
‘You’re not her, Harry. You’re different.’
‘Am I?’ he smiled thinly, removing her hand.
‘You don’t kill innocent people, Harry.’
Harry turned down Rakel’s offer of a lift and caught the bus. He stared at the flakes falling and the
fjord beyond the window, thinking how Rakel had only inserted the word innocent at the last
minute.
Harry was about to open his front door in Sofies gate when he remembered he didn’t have any
instant coffee, and walked the fifty metres to Niazi, the corner shop.
‘Unusual to see you at this time of day,’ Ali said, taking the money.
‘Day off,’ Harry said.
‘What weather, eh? They say there’s going to be half a metre of snow over the next twenty-four
hours.’
Harry fidgeted with the coffee jar. ‘I happened to frighten Salma and Muhammad in the yard the
other day.’
‘Yes, I heard.’
‘I’m sorry. I was a bit stressed, that’s all.’
‘That’s OK. I was just afraid you’d started drinking again.’