She hesitated for a moment but then whispered ‘Yes.’ Karl had bowed and thanked her as he backed out of the room. She sat there for a long time, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. She offered up her thanks to God, who had heard the prayers she had silently repeated every night. Then she rushed out to find Edith.
But Edith hadn’t reacted as she had hoped, with surprise and perhaps a little envy. Instead, she had drawn her dark brows together in a frown as she shook her head and told Emelie that she needed to be careful. Edith had heard strange conversations, voices that rose and fell behind closed doors, ever since Karl had come home from the lightship. He had arrived unexpectedly. At least no one who worked on the farm had been given any forewarning that the youngest son was on his way home. And that was unusual, Edith had said. But Emelie wasn’t listening. Interpreting her friend’s words as a sign that she was jealous of the happiness that awaited her, she had resolutely turned her back on Edith and refused to speak to her again. She didn’t want to hear anything about such stupid talk and gossip. She was going to marry Karl.
A week had passed since then, and they had spent one day and one night in their new house. Emelie found herself walking around humming. It was wonderful to have her own home. Of course it was small, but it was lovely in its simplicity, and she had busily swept and cleaned since the day they arrived. The whole place now sparkled and smelled so of fragrant soap. She and Karl hadn’t spent much time together yet, but there would be plenty of opportunities for that from now on. He had a lot to do, putting everything in order. Julian, who was the assistant lighthouse keeper, had now arrived as well, and on the first night he and Karl had taken turns in the lighthouse.
She wasn’t sure what she thought about sharing the island with this man. Julian had hardly spoken to her since he came ashore on Gråskär. Mostly he just stared at her, giving her a look that she didn’t really care for. But it was probably because he was shy. It couldn’t be easy to be suddenly living in such close quarters with a stranger. As she understood it, he knew Karl from their time together on the lightship, but it was going to take a while for him to get to know her. And if there was one thing they had in abundance out here, it was time. Emelie continued pottering about the kitchen. She wasn’t going to give Karl any reason to regret taking her as his wife.
3
Nathalie reached out her hand for him, just as she had always done back then. It had felt as if only a day had passed since they last lay together in this bed. But they were grown-ups now. His body was more angular and hairy, with scars that hadn’t existed before, both inside and out. She had lain for a long time with her head resting on his chest, running her finger along the shapes of those scars. She wanted to ask him about them, but in her heart she knew that things were still too fragile to risk enquiring about what had happened during the intervening years.
Now the other side of the bed was empty. Her mouth was dry, and she felt exhausted. Lonely. She ran her hand over the sheet and pillow, but Matte was gone. It felt as if she’d discovered that she’d lost part of her own body during the night. Then she felt a spark of hope. Maybe he was downstairs. She held her breath and listened but didn’t hear a sound. Wrapping the blanket around her, Nathalie set her feet on the worn floorboards. Cautiously she tiptoed over to the window that faced the dock and looked out. His boat was gone. He’d left without saying goodbye. She slid down along the wall and felt the onset of a headache. She needed to drink something.
Slowly she got dressed. It felt as though she hadn’t slept a wink all night, even though she knew that she had. She had fallen asleep in his arms and slept more soundly than she had in a very long time. And yet her head was pounding.
It was quiet downstairs. She looked in on Sam and found him awake but lying in bed and not making a sound. Without a word, she picked him up and carried him to the kitchen table. She stroked his hair before putting water on the stove to make coffee. Then she got herself a drink. She was so thirsty. She downed two big glasses of water before the dry feeling in her throat was gone. Nathalie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The fatigue was greater, more noticeable, now that her thirst was quenched. However Sam needed food, and she did too. She boiled some eggs, made herself an open-face sandwich, and fixed oatmeal for Sam, the whole time moving as if on automatic.
Then she cast a surreptitious glance at the drawer out in the hall. She didn’t have much left. It was important to ration herself. But the exhaustion she felt and the memory of the solitary boat at the dock prompted her to take the few steps into the hall and pull out the bottom drawer of the bureau. Eagerly she thrust her hands underneath the clothing, yet her fingers didn’t find what they were looking for. She searched again, and then pulled all of the clothes out of the drawer. Nothing. Maybe this wasn’t the right drawer. She pulled out the two other drawers and emptied the contents on to the floor. Nothing. Panic washed over her, and suddenly she understood why her hand had found only an empty bed when she woke up. Now she realized why Matte was gone, and why he hadn’t said goodbye.
She collapsed on to the floor and curled up in a foetal position, hugging her knees. In the kitchen she could hear the water boiling over.
‘Leave the boy alone.’ Gunnar didn’t look up from reading Bohusläningen when he repeated the same thing he’d been saying all day.
‘But maybe he’d like to come over for dinner today. Or tomorrow, since it’s Sunday. Don’t you think so?’ Signe insisted.
Gunnar sighed from behind his newspaper. ‘I’m sure he has other things to do at the weekend. He’s a grown man. If he wants to come over, he’ll probably call or drop by. You can’t keep hounding him like this. He was just here for dinner.’
‘I think I’ll give him a quick call anyway. To hear how he’s doing.’ Signe reached for the phone, but Gunnar leaned forward to stop her.
‘Let him be,’ he said sternly.
Signe drew back her hand. Her whole body was aching to ring Matte’s mobile, to hear his voice and make sure that everything was fine. After the beating she had become more concerned than ever. The incident had confirmed what she’d always known – that the world was a dangerous place for Matte.
Logically she knew that she needed to take a step back. But what good was that when everything inside of her screamed that she had to protect him? He was grown up now. She realized that. Still she couldn’t stop worrying.
Signe slipped out to the hall to use the phone there. When she heard Matte’s recorded message on his voicemail, she put down the receiver. Why wasn’t he answering his phone?
‘I don’t know what to do.’
Erica slumped in her chair. They had a rare moment of peace in the midst of the chaos. All three children were asleep, so she and Patrik could sit at the kitchen table together, eating hot sandwiches and talking without being constantly interrupted. But Erica was having a hard time enjoying the moment. She couldn’t stop thinking about Anna.
‘There’s really not much you can do except make yourself available when she needs you. And she does have Dan, after all.’ Patrik reached across the table to put his hand on Erica’s.
‘What if she hates me?’ she said faintly, on the verge of tears.
‘Why would she hate you?’
‘Because I have two babies and she has none.’
‘But that’s not your fault. It’s just … I don’t know really what to call it. Fate, maybe.’ Patrik stroked her hand.
‘Fate?’ Erica gave him a dubious look. ‘Anna has suffered enough at the hands of fate. She was finally starting to be happy, and she and I were getting so close. But now … She’s going to hate me. I know she is.’
‘How did it go yesterday when you went to see her?’
They’d both been so busy that they hadn’t had a chance to talk until now. The candle that Patrik had lit began fluttering so that Erica’s face was alternately illuminated and in shadow.
‘She was asleep. I sat with her for a while. She looked so small.’
&n
bsp; ‘What about Dan?’
‘He seemed in despair. He’s carrying a heavy load. I can tell, even though he pretends that everything is okay. Emma and Adrian are asking a lot of questions. And he told me that he doesn’t know what to say to them.’
‘She’ll make it through this. She’s demonstrated in the past that she’s a very strong person.’ Patrik let go of Erica’s hand and picked up his knife and fork.
‘I’m not so sure about that. How much can any human being stand before falling apart? I’m afraid that Anna has reached her limit.’ Erica’s voice broke.
‘We’ll just have to wait and see. And help her if she needs us.’ Patrik could hear how hollow his words sounded, hovering in the air. But he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He didn’t know any better than Erica did. How did people defend themselves against fate? How could anyone go on after losing a child?
At that moment two cries from above made them both jump. Together they went upstairs to get the twins. This was their fate. They felt both guilty and grateful.
4
‘That was Matte’s office. He didn’t come in yesterday, and he’s not there today either. And he didn’t call in sick.’ Gunnar seemed frozen in place as he held the phone in his hand.
‘And he didn’t pick up all weekend when I rang his number,’ said Signe.
‘I’ll drive over to his place and have a look.’
Gunnar was already on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket as he passed. So this is how Signe feels, he thought. Fear was darting around in his chest like a wild animal. This was how she must have felt all these years.
‘I’m going with you,’ Signe said firmly, and Gunnar knew better than to argue. He nodded briefly and then waited impatiently as she put on her coat.
They drove in silence all the way to Matte’s flat. Gunnar took the back roads, not the route through town. Instead he drove past the Seven Hills, the place where kids went sledding in the winter. Matte had done that too when he was a boy. Gunnar swallowed hard. There had to be a logical explanation. Maybe he was running a fever and hadn’t thought of calling in sick. Or maybe … He couldn’t think of anything else. Matte was always so conscientious about everything. He would have rung the office if he couldn’t make it to work.
Signe’s face was pale as she sat next to him in the passenger seat. She was staring straight ahead, gripping her handbag, which rested on her lap. Gunnar wondered why she was holding on to it so tightly, but he had the feeling that the handbag was her lifeline at the moment.
They parked in front of Matte’s building. Entrance B. Gunnar wanted to run, but for Signe’s sake he tried to act calmly and forced himself to walk at a normal pace.
‘Do you have the keys?’ asked Signe, who had gone striding ahead and already had the front door open.
‘Here.’ Gunnar held out the spare keys that Matte had given them.
‘I’m sure he’s home, so we won’t really need them. He’ll come to the door himself and then …’
He listened to Signe’s incoherent chatter as she ran up the stairs. Matte lived on the top floor, and they were both out of breath by the time they reached the door to his flat. Gunnar had to restrain himself from immediately putting the key in the lock.
‘Let’s ring the bell first. If he’s home, he’ll be cross if we go barging in. Maybe he has company and that’s why he hasn’t gone to work.’
Signe was already pressing the doorbell. They heard it ringing inside. She tried it again. And again. Then they listened for approaching footsteps, Matte’s footsteps coming to the door. But there was only silence.
‘I think you’d better use the key.’ Signe gave her husband an urgent look.
He nodded, stepped in front of her, and began fumbling with the key ring. He found the right key, turned it in the lock, and pushed down on the door handle. The door didn’t budge. In confusion he realized that the door had been open, and he had just locked it. He glanced at Signe. They could see the panic in each other’s eyes. Why would the door be left unlocked if Matte wasn’t home? And if he was home, why hadn’t he come to the door?
Gunnar turned the key again, and heard the click of the lock. With fingers that were now shaking uncontrollably, he pushed open the door.
The moment he looked inside the front hall, he realized that Signe had been right all along.
She was sick. More ill than she’d ever been in her life. The smell of vomit filled her nostrils. She couldn’t really remember, but she thought she’d thrown up in a bucket next to the mattress. She saw everything through a fog. Nathalie cautiously tried to move. Her whole body ached. She squinted. Her eyes hurt as she tried to see what time it was. What day was it? And where was Sam?
The thought of Sam gave her enough strength to sit up. She was lying on a mattress next to his bed. He was asleep. She was finally able to focus her eyes enough to read her watch. It was just after one. Which meant that Sam was taking an afternoon nap. She stroked his head.
Somehow she must have managed to look after him in spite of the fever. Her maternal instincts had proved sufficiently strong. Relief flooded over her, making the pain easier to bear. She looked around. A bottle of water lay on his bed, and scattered on the floor were pieces of fruit, a hunk of cheese, and a packet of biscuits. It looked as if she’d made sure he had food and water.
A bucket stood next to the mattress, and the smell coming from it was disgusting. She must have realized how ill she was and brought the bucket into the room. Her stomach felt empty, so she’d apparently thrown up everything she’d eaten.
Slowly she got to her feet. She didn’t want to wake Sam, so she stopped herself from groaning aloud. Finally she was able to stand though her legs were wobbly. It was important for her to have something to eat and drink. She wasn’t hungry, but her stomach was growling in protest. She picked up the bucket, careful not to look inside as she carried it out of the room. Using her shoulder to push open the front door, she shivered in surprise as she came out into the cold air. The summer heat must have disappeared while she was sick.
Cautiously she sat down on the dock and, averting her eyes, dumped the contents of the bucket into the sea. She picked up a rope and tied it to the handle. Then she lowered the bucket over the side of the dock and rinsed it out in the water.
The wind tore at her hair as she walked back to the house, arms hugging her chest. Her whole body was screaming from the effort, and she could feel the sweat pouring out of her. Disgusted, she peeled off all her clothes and washed up before putting on a clean T-shirt and a jogging suit. With trembling hands she made a sandwich, poured herself a glass of juice, and sat down at the kitchen table. It took several bites before the food began tasting of anything, but after that she quickly ate two more sandwiches. Gradually she could feel life returning to her body.
Nathalie glanced at her watch again, looking at the little window that showed the date. After doing some calculations in her head, she decided it had to be Tuesday. She’d been sick for almost three days. Three lost days, filled with all sorts of dreams. What exactly had she dreamed? She tried to grab hold of the images swirling through her mind. There was one that kept repeating. Nathalie shook her head but the movement made her stomach heave. She took a bite of a fourth sandwich, and her stomach settled down. A woman. There was a woman in her dreams, and there was something about her face. Nathalie frowned. There was something so familiar about that woman. She knew that she’d seen her before, but she couldn’t recall where.
She got up. No doubt she’d remember sooner or later. But a feeling from the dream refused to leave her. The woman had looked so sad. With the same feeling of sadness, Nathalie went into the bedroom to see to Sam.
Patrik hadn’t slept well. Erica’s concern for Anna had infected him, and he had awakened several times during the night with gloomy thoughts about how swiftly life could change. His own recent experience had made him lose his foothold a bit. Maybe it was good that he no longer took life for granted, but at the same time
a nagging feeling of uneasiness had settled inside of him. He found himself behaving in a much more protective manner than he’d ever done before. He didn’t like seeing Erica drive off with the children in the car. To be quite honest, he would have preferred her not to drive at all. And he’d feel much more secure if she and the children never stepped outside the house again but remained indoors, far removed from any dangers.
Of course he understood that such thoughts were neither healthy nor rational. But he’d been so close to losing his own life as well as Erica and the twins. Their family had been seconds away from disappearing altogether.
He gripped the edge of his desk, forcing himself to breathe calmly. Sometimes he felt overwhelmed by panic; he thought he might have to learn to live with it. That much he could manage, because in spite of everything, he still had his family.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Paula, suddenly appearing in the doorway.
Patrik took another deep breath. ‘Okay. I’m a little tired, that’s all. Night feedings, you know,’ he said, attempting to smile.
Paula came in and sat down.
‘Oh, right.’ She looked him straight in the eye with an expression that revealed she wasn’t buying his evasive answers and false smiles. ‘I asked you how it’s going.’
‘It’s been up and down,’ Patrik admitted reluctantly. ‘I think it will take a while for me to get back to normal. Even though everything is fine now. Except for Erica’s sister, of course.’
‘How is she?’
‘Not good.’
‘It takes time.’
‘I suppose so. But she’s shut everybody out. She won’t even talk to Erica.’
‘Do you think that’s so strange?’ asked Paula quietly.
Patrik knew that his colleague had the ability to get straight to the heart of a matter. She often said what people needed to hear – not necessarily what they wanted to hear. And she was usually right.
‘You and Erica have two children who survived the accident. Anna lost her baby. I don’t think it’s so strange that she would shut her sister out.’
The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 5