The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend (47 page)

‘For God's sake, don't you start on me. And what about the whole conspiracy thing? They were all in on it, that woman said. I can believe
that
easily enough.'

The policeman was kind enough not to say a word about how much of a fool Gavin would make of himself if he actually started proceedings against an entire town. Instead, he asked: ‘Do you want to do anything about the hunting rifle?'

Gavin sighed. The armed threat was the least of his problems. ‘You heard the woman,' he said. ‘Like the Fourth of July. Let it go.'

‘Whatever you want,' said the policeman. ‘There's not much I can do without a report anyway.'

‘You can't always win,' said Gavin. He was starting to feel much more philosophical about the whole thing. Philosophical in the sense of being extremely tired of it all.

‘Not against opponents like that, no,' the policeman said. ‘There were more of them than you, after all.'

 

 

 

 

Broken Wheel, Iowa

August 5, 2011

Sara Lindqvist

Kornvägen 7, 1 tr

136 38 Haninge

Sweden

Dear Sara,

Jimmie Coogan! I'd completely forgotten I promised to tell you all about him. Oh my goodness. Jimmie Coogan. That's a real story. Jimmie was the first Coogan ever to own a suit, later the first who could read, the first to own his own house, the first to dye his hair, and the first ever to have a street named after him. When you get here, I'll tell you how it all happened. It can be our first trip together.

Taking the Greyhound to Hope is no problem. Hope's less than an hour away, so it's no problem to come meet you there. I should be able to come myself, but if I can't then someone else will. If you have even the slightest problem, just give me a call.

I'm looking forward to meeting you at the end of the month.

Best,

Amy

LIFE WAS FULL
of happy endings.

As Sara stood there in church on her second wedding day, she thought to herself that real life still had a great deal in its favour after all. Not once during the minister's sermon did she long for a book, even though she had already heard his speech once before.

She wasn't wearing white.

Jen had protested, of course, but she had stood her ground. ‘No one's going to fall for the whole white-dress thing,' she had explained firmly. ‘It's the second time I'll be getting married in a month.'

‘To the same person!' Jen had said, but Sara simply smiled and shook her head. She often found herself smiling nowadays, just like many of the others in Broken Wheel. She had compromised by wearing a white cowboy hat which Claire had lent her. Not that it seemed to have made Jen any happier. The opposite, if anything.

It was possible that Broken Wheel was listening more closely to the minister this time, but Sara doubted it. Caroline and Josh were there. Grace was there, along with her gun. Sara was almost certain she wouldn't fire it in church. She was also almost certain that Grace was sober this time.

John had started stopping by the bookshop and he had started talking about Amy. He would just turn up sometimes, sit down in one of the armchairs and start talking. His voice was always quiet and almost distant, and he never bothered to check whether she was listening. He simply talked, about things Amy had said or done or been. It made Sara feel as though Amy wasn't quite gone, and she hoped that John felt the same way. Now, he was sitting in the same seat as before, at the very back and slightly to the side of everyone else. It was impossible to tell for certain, but from his expression, Sara thought he was probably happy about the wedding.

There was still a certain sadness about George. Sara could see it in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. Not that he complained. He seemed almost surprised that he hadn't given up, but Sara wasn't. There was something so stoic about him; sometimes, she wondered whether he experienced catastrophes simply because he expected them. She smiled. George had Claire on his side now, and Sara didn't think the catastrophes stood a chance, not against Claire.

She glanced at Tom and realised that he was looking at her. He winked and she had to fight not to laugh. One day, she would find a book for him. There was no rush. She had the rest of her life to do it. She reached out and touched his hand, just because she could.

Broken Wheel really was on the way to becoming an extremely happy town.

A great deal of their happiness seemed to come from the knowledge that they had managed to deceive the authorities. Just like in the good old days, Grace had said, and Jen seemed inclined to agree. Jen's entire being suggested she had never really doubted it. When
she
organised things, her contented look said, there was no way that a trivial detail like the American immigration authorities could ruin her plans.

Naturally, there would be a wedding special in the newsletter. Caroline had been overheard asking innocently whether Jen would also be going on the honeymoon, immortalising it in print.

And Sara had changed her mind.

Reality really was just as good as books.

William was nearing the end of his sermon. She was still nervous at having to speak in front of everyone, but this time she wouldn't need to say much.

She was as ready as she would ever be, when the door behind them opened once again. Ah, Sara thought when she saw who it was. The only thing they had been missing.

A thin, ordinary girl with straggly brown hair and a dark blue padded jacket was standing in the doorway. ‘Dad?' she said, as George half rose to his feet and said: ‘Sophy!'

The girl took a couple of uncertain steps towards the bench he was sitting on and Claire moved calmly to the next space along. ‘Sit down, sweetie,' she said, patting the empty space.

Sara smiled to herself and winked at Claire. They had sent an invitation to the wedding along with the second book from the
Eragon
series.

The world was simply full of happy endings, Sara thought, turning back to William. It would have been a waste not to make use of them.

She would marry her Tom.

She would marry Broken Wheel.

And they would all live happily ever after.

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Copyright © Katarina Bivald 2013

English translation copyright © Alice Menzies 2015

Katarina Bivald has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

First published by Chatto & Windus in 2015

First published in Sweden by Forum in 2013

www.vintage-books.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library