I think, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you for a bit, Magnus. Or maybe you talk to me. I keep picking up a lot off you.
‘Well, sure. Twenty questions: Where are you from?’
“The American South. Near Atlanta. I live in New York City now, when I’m at home. And you?” Summer shoved her hands in her pockets.
‘Was born and raised in Trollhättan, then moved down to Ystad Saltsjöbad during my early twenties. I’ve lived here for nearly ten years, I don’t think I’ll be moving anytime soon either. The weather is cold, usual for Sweden, but it’s a nice area.’
“I wish I’d been able to do more to trace my roots; you might actually know some of my distant, distant relatives. Oh well.” She blew out a sigh. “Walk with me? Aught else you want to know? What do you do?”
‘I know of your distant relatives…?’ Magnus’ brow knotted together in his perplexed expression, distracted from her next query as the blonde stepped in tow beside her as they ventured outside and took to the gravel path. ‘Do you have family in Sweden?’
“I expect so. My father’s mother came from there when she was very young. I’ve never had the time to really look, though.” Summer chuckled a little. “I don’t know that they’d want to own me, as it is. Probably for the best.” Looking way up at him, she smiled. “So, what do you do with your time when you’re not being brooding and handsome, Mr Martinsson?”
‘I used to be a detective down at the Ystad precinct. Nowadays, I’m living the good life, and have been taking quite a few day trips up north.’ The ex-detective’s brow lowered in thought as he voiced his query. ‘I hope I’m not coming off as ‘intrusive’, but what do you mean by ‘own me’?’
“Oh, whoops. You speak English so well, I forgot it must not be your first language!” Summer laughed again, this time at herself. “I mean, accept me as part of the family, however distant. It’s an old usage. It’s a bad habit of mine, finding old forms of the language and then confusing people with them.”