He walked across the large wooden veranda, listening to the hollow sounds under his feet for every step. 'Good, pool's covered. Don't want people drowning there come night.'

A few of the guests were making good use of the spa, most of them belonging to the younger generation. They sent him polite nods with the message: "Please go away old geezer!"

He shook his head. The spa was smaller and safer, and warmer, but it still counted as the pool début for the year. 'Rather late this year. And on midsummer's eve, the Swedish version of a summer festival.'

Sudden memories made him grin at first, but then his smile turned sour. It had taken him so many years to finally be a part of this world, and those memories from his second youth carried the taint of a desperate need to escape.