I was going to write ‘after the party’ but there was no ‘after’. It was still going strong when Sue and I left with Per at around 5am and we dossed at his place. We all kind of surfaced at midday and judging by their beige faces and pissholes-in-the-snow eyes, the other two were feeling as grim as me. Per took us out for brunch. Chitchat was non-existent until the coffee and croissants had kicked in. Then Per suddenly got enthusiastic about us driving out to a forest only twenty minutes from Stockholm to visit a friend of his. Sue said “Beautiful” in this dreamy, let’s-see-where-it-goes way she has but I was thinking mud, midges and fir trees. I mean, I can only take so many fir trees, know what I mean?
Mikael, this mate of Per’s, lives in a log cabin. He was prickly first off because we’d turned up without warning, but he was OK when Per gave him a bottle of Campofiorin Masi and he offered to cook us spaghetti. He turned out to be a really cool guy. They both are. Mikael took a shine to our red wheels. So we did a deal: our wheels for his ice silver BMW plus a dozen bottles of Prosecco and another of Cointreau thrown in. He’d had a lot of wine by then. We all had. It was hugs all round from Per. And then some. That Per likes his hugs. 
Sue and I headed off the next morning, no destination in mind. My turn to drive. I glanced across at Sue. Her skin was gleaming gold and she had a secret smile on her face. I said: “Hey, is that a man’s shirt you’re wearing?” Answer: “Oh… I guess.” She can be so deliberately vague when she wants to be.
Photos courtesy of Connie Lundren, Eva the Weaver and Social is Better.
