The receptionist called the waiting porter over and we followed him into the elevator that carried us up to the fifth floor. When I walked into the room it turned out that Jack had booked a whole suite. I’d never seen anything like it.

“This is amazing,” I said, all my intentions to appear worldly blown away. “God, I could fit my apartment in here ten times over!”

There was a group of sofas in the middle of the large room, in front of a flat-screen TV. Next to it was a well-stocked drinks trolley. The external wall had been replaced by huge panoramic windows with a view that stretched for miles.

I pulled back the thick curtains covering the door to the terrace, opened it, and stepped out. The city twinkled below. Sounds and smells drifted up to me. The heat felt as soft as velvet. Guitar-music was coming from a nearby apartment. The sea lay dark and endless beyond the shoreline it was embracing.

“What do you think?” Jack asked.

He stopped behind me, put his arms around me, and rested his head on my shoulder. “I don’t know what to say,” I replied, spinning around and looking into his eyes. I felt like throwing myself at him, kissing him, tearing our clothes off, straddling him and feeling him inside me.

“I know the hotel’s owner,” Jack said.

“Swedish?”

“Yes. We’re staying here free of charge.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I never joke about money,” Jack said. “Shall we head out and get something to eat?”

—

We turned left outside the hotel. My heels caught in the cobbles and I stumbled slightly. Jack caught me by one arm. Before we left the room I had touched up my makeup, changed my underwear, and put on a black skirt. I felt beautiful. And I didn’t need to worry about whether or not Jack wanted me. He kept looking at me hungrily. Part of me would have liked to suggest not bothering with food and staying in the hotel room to fuck ourselves silly. But I was too curious to see the city.

There were clusters of people standing around the street corners. Hoarse laughter echoed through the alleys. A dark-eyed man in a soccer jersey came up to us.

“Hashish?”

Jack haggled over the price. The man gesticulated. The deal was soon concluded, Jack handed over a few notes and received a small parcel in return. He unwrapped it and took out a brown lump.

“Smell.”

I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet smell. I’d never tried it before. Not hash, in fact nothing stronger than cigarettes and alcohol. But here in Barcelona, with Jack, it felt entirely natural. Jack was a drug, a drug that made me want to try all the other drugs in the world.

He carefully wrapped it again and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. The music grew louder and we came to a square. Chairs and tables were nestled along the buildings. People were smoking, drinking, eating.

“Here?” he said, pointing.

“Sure,” I said. I was far too busy soaking up my surroundings to make any sort of decision about where to eat.

We sat down at a table. A waiter in a white shirt and bow tie came over. Jack ordered tapas. Beer for him, a mojito for me.

Our drinks arrived. Jack reached over, took a mint-leaf from my glass, and popped it in his mouth.

“So what’s the deal with you, Faye?”

“You’re probably going to have to be a bit more specific.”

“You’ve got it all. You’re beautiful, you drink like one of the guys, and according to the people I’ve spoken to you’re the smartest student in your year. Henrik’s talking about making you a partner in the business. There must be something wrong somewhere. Are you a man in disguise? Have you got a club foot?”

He leaned down and pretended to look under the table.

I laughed and kicked my foot toward him. The table wobbled and he joined in my laughter.

“And you’re funny too. Are you glad you’re here?” he asked.

A sudden shift in his expression. A hint of seriousness and a trace of what looked like insecurity. His blue eyes were gazing right at me, into me. I trembled. Looked away. I couldn’t let him know how crazy I was about him, not yet. Men like Jack needed to fight, to hunt, to make them think it worthwhile. Otherwise they’d disappear.

I also knew that I couldn’t let him know anything about Matilda. But that wasn’t a problem. With each passing day my memories of the past faded. Now only Sebastian came to me in dreams, but even that was happening less frequently.

“There’s nothing wrong with the city, but the company could be better,” I said, shooting him a challenging look.

“Really?”

Jack toyed with his beer glass and grinned as he looked at me.

“So what happened to the boyfriend?” he asked curiously.

In my mind’s eye I saw Viktor lying in bed as the sheets caught light.

“It’s over,” I said curtly.

Jack had never met him, didn’t know any details. And I didn’t feel like giving him any.

The flame of the candle was reflected in Jack’s eyes.

The waiter brought us a plate of air-dried ham and thin, triangular slices of cheese. I picked up a piece of ham, it felt greasy on my fingers but melted in my mouth.

“I like being here. I’ve never been to Spain before.”

“Where have you been, then?”

“Denmark. And Fj?llbacka.”

“That’s where you’re from?”

“Yes. Fj?llbacka. Not Denmark.”

I thought back to that trip to Denmark. Legoland. Which, predictably, had ended in disaster.

“What’s it like?”

“The opposite of this,” I said, gesturing toward the square. “Empty streets. One single place to go if you want to go out. Everyone knows everything about everyone else.”

“Your parents still live there? Brothers and sisters?”

Jack reached for a piece of ham but didn’t take his eyes off me.

Sebastian’s face appeared in my mind. Badly beaten, that terrible night.

I swallowed a few times.

“My parents are dead. I’m an only child.”

The waiter appeared with more food. Potato wedges, garlic prawns in oil, olives, meatballs in tomato sauce.

I raised the cocktail to my mouth. The rum burned my throat. It was a strong mojito. Not like the expensive but miserly ones you got at Stureplan. I realized I probably looked depressed. Made an effort to regain control of my features, but all the alcohol we’d consumed since leaving Stockholm wasn’t making it easy. I lit a cigarette to gain some time.

“I’d like to go there with you one day.”

Jack didn’t ask any more about what I’d said. I loved him even more for that.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would. Of course I would. I like seeing new places. I can’t get enough of new places.”

And women, I thought. But said nothing.

“I’ve got friends who used to spend the summer in Fj?llbacka. It’s supposed to be lovely,” he said, soaking up the oil from the garlic prawns with a piece of white bread.

“So what’s your secret, Jack?” I said, changing the subject.

I drank some more of the mojito as the stars in the night sky above us came closer.

“My dad’s an alcoholic and compulsive gambler,” he said quickly. He tore off a bit more bread and dipped it in the oil. “He’s a fucking loser who’s drunk away a large chunk of his inheritance. The black sheep of the family. But he’s never been able to take my surname away from me. And, yes, it opens a lot of doors. But not because of him. I’ve got the rest of the family and my ancestors to thank for that.”

“I had no idea.”

“No, it’s not the sort of thing you put on your business card. There aren’t many people who know. When people ask, I usually say he lives abroad. It’s easier that way. But it’s no secret in the finer social circles in Stockholm. Everyone knows about my old man.”

“What about your mother?”

“Remarried. Her new husband’s a bastard as well, but at least he’s a sober bastard. She’s not great when it comes to picking men. Maybe that’s what happens when you pick them according to how much money they’ve got. They live in Switzerland. I left home when I was sixteen. My uncle Carl got me an apartment and gives me a monthly allowance for rent and food, in exchange for me going to college.”

“Brothers and sisters?”

“No. An only child, like you.”

Jack ran his hand through his hair but his bangs fell back across his forehead at once. A man was going from table to table selling roses. As he approached Jack shook his head and the man moved on.

“You’re very easy to talk to,” Jack said. “I’m telling you things I don’t usually talk about.”

“Funny. I was thinking the same. I wonder why that is?”

It was a lie. There were plenty of things I hadn’t told Jack.

“Maybe we’re pretty similar.” Jack lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Other people probably don’t realize how lonely you and I are.”

I was fascinated by the fact that he saw himself as lonely. I’d only ever seen Jack surrounded by people.

“What are we like?” I asked curiously.