Liv

by Mikaela Bley

  Still not anyone. In her hand, she had her phone, ready to call the police if anything were to happen to her. Here, they’d come quickly. She was in the middle of town. It wasn’t like at Örelo.

  The patio door was open. She stuck her head in. ‘Hello. Is anyone home?’

  Still no answer.

  It must have been Bea or someone in this family who’d reported her, and now Ellen was really snooping around. But she had tried ringing the doorbell, and what Bea and the other kids were up to was a lot more than harassment.

  She looked into the living room. It looked like an American dollhouse. Everything was in some shade of pink, and the decorative objects were in straight lines on the shelves and tables. Porcelain dogs and vases filled with flowers. It smelt strongly of cleaning spray.

  ‘Hello!’ she shouted, a little more hesitant now.

  She heard something fall. Turned quickly around. The reptile brain screamed at her to run, but her knee hurt too much. Instead, she walked very slowly towards the door, as if she was trying to overcome her fear.

  ‘Can I help you with something?’

  She was startled by the dark male voice and turned around. ‘Sorry for bothering you, I rang the doorbell, but no one answered.’

  ‘You’re intruding in our home.’

  Ellen stared at him. ‘Haven’t we met before? In Stentuna? Aren’t you married, or, sorry, living with Hanna Andersson?’

  ‘No, you must be confusing me with someone. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.’

  It had to be him. Ellen recognised the grey streak in his hair at the temples, but now he was wearing a tie and jacket. She was certain. She extended her hand in greeting.

  ‘What are you doing? I want you to get out of our house immediately.’

  He sounded threatening, and Ellen backed up.

  ‘I’ll go, but I just want to say that if your daughter, or whoever it is, if Bea doesn’t stop harassing me, I’m going to report her to the police. Tell her that.’ As firmly as she could, she walked out the gate, taking the opportunity on the way to snap a picture of the licence plate on the black SUV parked on the driveway. Not until she’d got out onto the street did she look back to see whether he’d followed her, but she couldn’t see anyone.

  As soon as she’d gone a short way down the street, she entered the registration number into an app.

  Patrik Bosängen.

  She searched for his address and found that he lived there with Alexandra Bosängen. She emailed Agatha and asked her to check out everything about the family.

  Was he unfaithful? She was certain that she’d seen him in Solbyn, at home with Hanna, last Tuesday. Ellen googled ‘Stoffe Andersson’. No relevant hits. What would his real name be? Christoffer? She tried it with a few different spellings, but didn’t come up with anyone who lived in the area. Instead, she did a search on the address in Solbyn. Hanna Andersson was the only name registered there. But Hanna had introduced him as her partner, and the little girl had called him Dad …

  ‘Ellen!’ someone called behind her.

  ELLEN

  4.15 P.M.

  ‘Dad. Hi.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, walking towards her, comfortably dressed in shorts and a loose-hanging linen shirt. ‘I saw the car back down the street.’

  ‘I was just here checking out a few things.’ She immediately heard how wrong that sounded.

  ‘What are you checking out? Are you going to buy a house or something?’ he said and laughed. ‘You’d better learn to take care of the apartment you have, first.’

  She forced out a laugh. ‘Yeah, probably. Do you know who lives at number 24?’

  ‘The plastic surgeon, you mean. Bosängen. Why?’

  ‘No real reason. Do you know them?’

  ‘No, only that we’re neighbours. They keep to themselves, don’t talk that much with the rest of us on the street. He’s not home that often — works in Stockholm. They have a really rebellious daughter. You can hear them arguing sometimes, and I rather think she would benefit from a good slap.’

  Ellen let that hang for a moment, but couldn’t manage to hold back. ‘Was that what you thought about me when I got angry?’

  ‘Oh, Ellen …’

  There was a reason that she never confronted him. It was impossible to win or get your point across. His worldview was different. That was just the way it was. The best dad in the world. She couldn’t imagine him ever having thought about his own behaviour, even once.

  ‘Is that the sort of thing you talk about with that hocus-pocus guy? About what a bad father I’ve been?’

  She shook her head and was surprised that he’d actually had that thought. ‘I’ve decided that it’s going to be better this time.’

  There was silence, and for once she rested in it.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said.

  ‘I actually like him.’

  ‘You’re not doing stuff with hypnosis and dreams, are you?’

  ‘Dr Hiralgo thinks it’s important that I go over every detail. He’s helping me remember, so that I can process everything later.’

  ‘Don’t be so naive. Do you know what a person like that can do to a family?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The human memory can be edited. Studies have shown that you can manipulate and erase certain parts of it, but also add false memories. In many cases hypnosis can lead to such memories successively being built up, and they can have a high degree of credibility. The legal consequences can be enormous.’ He told her about a case where someone had dug around in their own memory and planted new memories. ‘It’s had frightful consequences for the whole family.’

  Ellen herself could remember a case that she’d reported on in which a grown woman had gone to a hypnotist who brought out memories of her having been sexually abused by her father. It later proved not to be true, but by then she had already destroyed her life and her family’s with the dreadful accusations.

  ‘He’s not hypnotising me. He just talks to me — as if I were an adult.’

  He nodded, but she could see that he didn’t care. ‘Can’t you just try to live a normal life. Be like everyone else and be grateful for what you have. Think of Elsa, who never got to do that. Live for her.’

  Her eyes teared up. She pulled down her sunglasses. ‘Thanks for the advice.’

  Once again, they were silent, but now she couldn’t bear to just stand there. ‘What are you doing at home this time of the afternoon?’

  ‘Well, it was too hot to work. I noticed that no one was at the office, people aren’t answering email or the phone, and the family was home anyway, so I thought I’d come home and be with them a little. I actually think the barbeque is about ready now. Can you smell it?’ He raised his nose towards the sky.

  Ellen nodded.

  ‘I have to go and get dinner going now. Good luck with the house hunt.’

  ‘Thanks. What are you having?’

  ‘Hamburgers from prime rib. I ground the meat myself,’ he said proudly. ‘See you.’

  ‘Say hi to the family,’ she said quietly after him as he left.

  ‘I will.’ He closed the gate behind him and disappeared into the garden.

  Ellen staggered down the hill to the car, but it was no longer her knee that hurt the most.

  ALEXANDRA

  7.00 P.M.

  She was always the one who prepared the family dinners. In truth, that was the way she wanted it, but she didn’t like the way they took it for granted and just expected her to do everything without even thanking her.

  She lugged in the last bags of groceries. She’d been forced to do some supplementary shopping. It was the third time she’d been to the shop today because she’d forgotten things she needed. She put the food in the fridge and placed the vases of fresh flowers from th
e garden on the already set dining room table.

  She’d made quiches, baked bread, and bought crayfish from Värmland, the last according to a directive from Patrik and her mother-in-law.

  ‘Are we sitting inside?’ Eva picked up one of the linen napkins to refold it.

  ‘Yes, it’s too hot to sit outside.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘That it’s too hot to sit outside.’ Alexandra knew that Eva had heard her the first time, but as usual she pretended not to understand when Alexandra talked because she had a faint Polish accent.

  Eva went around the table in the dining room and adjusted the silverware and the glasses. Small adjustments to make it clear that Alexandra’s setting wasn’t good enough. ‘I don’t like you yelling at Bea and Patrik the way you did yesterday.’

  Alexandra didn’t respond.

  ‘You have to learn to control your anger.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Her mother-in-law backed up a few steps and cleared her throat before she continued. ‘You have to be kind to him, he has so much going on now and he’s really struggling with you. He looks completely wrecked, the poor thing, and then he has to take care of all of you.’

  And you, she thought, but instead of arguing with Eva, she went into the kitchen. It wasn’t possible to win against this woman, she’d learnt that a long time ago.

  ‘Did you buy the crayfish from Värmland?’ Her mother-in-law followed her into the kitchen like an unpleasant shadow that was impossible to escape.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you should have some money from me.’

  ‘No, absolutely not. I don’t want any money.’

  ‘What do you want then?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Alexandra stopped and stared at her mother-in-law.

  ‘Well, what do you want if you don’t want money?’

  Alexandra clenched her fists so that her knuckles turned completely white. Turned the tap on cold and let the icy water run down over her fingers.

  No one made her feel as insignificant as Eva. She had to struggle constantly to fit in. No matter that she and Patrik had been married for over twenty years, it just got worse and worse.

  Eva had always looked down on Alexandra and her family. They were from Poland and had come to Sweden when Alexandra was fifteen. They’d never had very much money or high status, and her parents had scraped by as teachers and interpreters. They had never felt at home in Sweden, and twenty years ago, they’d given up and moved back to Poland.

  All Alexandra had dreamt about when she was little was to have a Swedish family. And she’d got one. She looked around and dreamt her way back to childhood, when her future plans had still been beautiful and uncomplicated.

  Eva’s dream had been for Patrik to marry a well-off girl with class and style. Someone with her own farm, who knew how to act.

  Alexandra picked up one of the silver candleholders and polished it. Did Eva really think she was after their money? The question was, whose money was she talking about?

  Eva still lived on the farm, but all the capital went towards maintaining the house. And what background did she herself have to brag about? A pharmacist’s daughter from Karlstad with ten siblings!

  ‘Who’s going to eat all this food?’ Eva asked, looking at the table.

  You say that when I’ve been standing here all day cooking? Alexandra wanted to scream, but managed to stay calm. ‘You don’t have to eat it.’

  Märtha came in, got the milk out of the fridge, and poured a glass very clumsily and spilt milk on the floor.

  ‘Märtha! I can’t take this right now. Can’t you see that I’ve been cleaning and cooking for all of you?’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to.’ Märtha looked scared.

  Her guilty conscience smothered her anger as quickly as it had come. ‘Sorry, honey, I’m just stressed. Sorry.’ She tried to hug her, but her little girl tore herself loose. ‘Märtha,’ she called after her, but it was too late. Was she on the way to losing her other daughter, too? How could everything be so wrong? Why wasn’t she able to rein in her mood better?

  Alexandra took a mop from the broom closet and carefully wiped up the milk before she hurried up to the top floor. Her legs felt heavy, and she was quickly out of breath.

  ‘Just think, if you could set your priorities a little differently, things would be so much better.’ Her mother-in-law didn’t give up, but Alexandra held back. She needed to save her energy to cope with this evening.

  Covered in sweat and empty inside, she went into the walk-in wardrobe, which was the same size as her parents’ living room had been when Alexandra was growing up. Every time she went in there, she could feel a spike of pride for what she had managed to achieve in life. She had been able to give her children a real home.

  When she saw herself in the mirror, she was struck by how pale and old she was. It was always the same when they were going to meet, and the feeling got worse as the days passed by and the wrinkles became more numerous.

  Especially after he introduced his new woman.

  She felt like she smelt of cooking odours, but she didn’t have time to take a shower. Instead she put on a little deodorant and took out a black outfit with a jacket and matching skirt, and a white blouse for underneath. Put on the pearl earrings and make-up, a little rouge and mascara, but she was warm and the make-up smudged. She sat down on the chair in front of the mirror and tried to collect herself, breathe calmly, and slow down a little before she took out the mascara again. She did the best she could and tried to look at herself with new eyes, but the make-up couldn’t hide her tiredness. Maybe a little foundation under the eyes would help? But it just made her look more wrinkly. She rubbed it off again and realised that she actually didn’t want to see herself at all.

  Patrik suddenly showed up behind her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and looked at her quickly in the mirror. ‘How lovely you are,’ he said, pulling off his tie.

  How can he say that? she thought and clenched her jaw. ‘Thanks.’ She smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror and watched him as he hung up his jacket and unbuttoned his top shirt button.

  ‘It smells really good in the kitchen!’

  She smiled again, like the perfect housewife she was.

  From the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw Hanna come in. Alexandra stiffened and glared at her, standing there in a white loose tunic with blue embroidery. Her curly hair was messily pinned up, and she had big earrings that framed her face. The outfit that just a few minutes ago had been the only one that felt good was now completely wrong.

  She saw the way Patrik lit up when he caught sight of Hanna, went up to her and kissed her on the mouth, formed his hand around her breast.

  Alexandra looked away.

  She hated Hanna for everything she had subjected the family to. After so many years, Alexandra still couldn’t understand it. I should have stood up for myself, I should have refused, she thought.

  ‘Hi, Alexandra, you look nice.’ It was Karl, who’d also barged into her walk-in wardrobe, which was now starting to feel claustrophobic. Patrik tousled Karl’s hair, and Karl responded with a crooked smile. He was so much like his father. It was almost eerie. It was like having a younger Patrik running around the house, but with elements of Hanna.

  Alexandra snorted. ‘Too bad Liv couldn’t be here, too. Then we’d have had the whole family together.’

  HANNA

  7.30 P.M.

  Alexandra had hardly greeted her when she arrived, and the bit about Liv was truly low. They were all stressed and worried, but they had to try to stick together.

  Hanna glanced out over Alexandra’s well-tended garden, where Märtha and Alice were running around. Despite everything, she was still happy about how much fun the girls had together. They were the same age, only a few months apart, and they acted like sisters. They
were actually a little alike with their long braids, and today they were both wearing white dresses.

  Karl had disappeared somewhere, and she hoped he wasn’t with Bea. Hanna didn’t like the negative influence Bea had on him. She was the one who’d started the power games and then gotten Karl involved.

  Neither of them had been seen since dinner at Alexandra’s a week ago when they’d had their Friday family get-together — as they did every Friday, just like any other family.

  A few days before that Friday a week ago, Stoffe had said that there was something he wanted to tell the whole family, and that he would do it on Friday when his mother would also be visiting from Värmland.

  Neither Alexandra nor Hanna had had a clue what he could be wanting to tell them. Not in her wildest imagination had she thought that Stoffe could have gone behind her and the children’s backs.

  When Stoffe had come into the hall with Liv close beside him, and Hanna had seen that they were holding hands, it had hurt in a way that she had never felt before. Not from envy, but from a sense of betrayal. He had gone behind her back. Lived a parallel life that she didn’t know about.

  In retrospect, she could think of a few different warning signs. Above all, his strange moods and peculiar evasions. But that had seemed more as if he just wasn’t doing especially well. She would never have believed that he could have gone and fallen in love with yet another woman.

  A week had passed since Stoffe had introduced Liv as his third wife. He’d explained to them that the children were going to have a sibling. The two of them had been as if glued together the whole dinner, and Liv had sat on Stoffe’s lap when they’d had coffee later in the living room. They were so physical with each other, in a way that she had never seen Stoffe be with Alexandra. Possibly with Hanna, but still not like this. It hadn’t escaped anyone that he was head over heels in love.

  She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Alexandra about it. Was there even anything to say? It still wouldn’t change anything.

  Stoffe’s mother hadn’t looked entirely happy, either. Now she’d have to share her son with yet another woman. Bea had gotten a wild look in her eyes and had run out and scratched Liv’s car with a key, written ugly things in the paint. Karl and Alice hadn’t said a word.