For several seconds Annika and Gösta stared at the closed door, but then they could restrain themselves no longer. The pair of them laughed until they cried, but they did it as quietly as possible.
Having checked that Mellberg’s door was still closed, Gösta slipped over to the kitchen and whispered to Annika: ‘Did he say he’d been taking salsa lessons? Did he really say that?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Annika, wiping the tears on the sleeve of her sweater. Maja stared at them in fascination as she sat at the table with a plate in front of her.
‘But why? What on earth’s got into him?’ said Gösta incredulously as he pictured the scene in his mind.
‘Well, it’s the first I’ve heard about it, at any rate.’ Still laughing, Annika shook her head and then sat down to carry on feeding Maja.
‘Did you see how stiff he was? He looked like that creature in Lord of the Rings. Gollum. Isn’t that his name?’ Gösta did his best to imitate how Mellberg was moving, and Annika put her hand over her mouth to keep from howling with laughter.
‘Salsa! That must have given Mellberg’s body a real shock. He hasn’t done any exercise in . . . well, ever. It’s a mystery to me how he ever passed the physical part of the police training.’
‘For all we know, he might have been a great athlete in his younger days.’ Annika thought about what she’d just said and then shook her head. ‘But I don’t think so. Good Lord, this is the entertainment highlight of the day. Mellberg at a salsa class! Whatever next?’ She lifted a spoonful of food to Maja’s mouth, but the child stubbornly turned her head away. ‘This little one doesn’t want to eat anything. But if I don’t get her to take at least a few spoonfuls, they’ll never trust me with her again,’ she sighed and made another attempt, but Maja’s mouth remained as impenetrable as Fort Knox.
‘Shall I try?’ asked Gösta, reaching for the spoon. Annika looked at him in surprise.
‘You? Okay, go ahead. But don’t get your hopes up.’ Gösta didn’t reply as he changed places with Annika, sitting down next to Maja. He dumped off half of the huge mound of food that Annika had put on the spoon and then raised it in the air. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane.’ He sailed the spoon around like a plane and was rewarded with Maja’s undivided attention. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane, flying straight into your . . .’ Maja’s mouth opened as if on cue, and the plane with its load of spaghetti and meat sauce went in for a landing.
‘Mmm . . . that was good,’ said Gösta, putting a little more food on the spoon. ‘Chugga, chugga, chug, now it’s a train coming. Chugga, chugga, chug and straight into the tunnel.’ Maja’s mouth opened again and the spaghetti entered the tunnel.
‘I can’t believe it!’ said Annika, gaping. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ said Gösta modestly. But he smiled proudly as a race car drove in with spoon number three.
Annika sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Gösta slowly emptied the plate in front of Maja, who swallowed every bite.
‘You know what, Gösta?’ said Annika. ‘Life is so unfair sometimes.’
‘Have the two of you thought about adopting?’ asked Gösta without looking at her. ‘In my day it wasn’t very common. But today I wouldn’t hesitate. Seems like every other kid is adopted.’
‘We’ve talked about it,’ said Annika, drawing circles on the tablecloth with the tip of her finger. ‘But nothing has ever come of it. We’ve done our best to fill our lives with things other than children . . . but . . .’
‘It’s not too late,’ said Gösta. ‘If you start now, it might not take too long. And the colour of the child’s skin doesn’t matter, so choose the country with the shortest waiting list. There are so many kids who need a home. If I was a child, I’d thank my lucky stars if you and Lennart adopted me.’
Annika swallowed hard and looked down at her finger moving over the tablecloth. Gösta’s words had awakened something inside of her, something that she and Lennart had somehow suppressed the past few years. Maybe they were afraid. After all the miscarriages, all the hopes that had been shattered again and again. But maybe they were strong enough now. Maybe they could do it, maybe they dared. Because the sense of longing was still there, as strong as ever. Nothing seemed to suppress that longing to hold a child in their arms, to have a child to love.
‘Well, I’d better see about doing some work,’ said Gösta, getting to his feet without looking at her. He patted Maja on the head. ‘At least she ate something, so Patrik won’t have to worry that she’s starving when he leaves her here with us next time.’
He was just about to leave the kitchen when Annika said quietly, ‘Thanks, Gösta.’
He nodded, embarrassed. Then he disappeared into his office and closed the door behind him. He sat down in front of his computer, staring at the screen without seeing it. Instead he saw Maj-Britt’s face. And the boy who had lived only a few days. So many years had passed since then. An eternity. Almost an entire lifetime. But he could still feel the tiny hand grasping his finger.
With a sigh, Gösta clicked open the golf game.
For three hours Erica managed to push aside all thoughts of the disastrous visit with Britta. And during that time she wrote five pages of her new book. Then her mind returned to Britta, and she gave up trying to write anything more.
She’d felt deeply ashamed when she left Britta’s home. It was hard for her to shake off the memory of Herman’s expression when he saw her sitting there at the kitchen table next to his wife, who was in a state of collapse. Erica understood his reaction. It had been terribly insensitive of her not to recognize the signals. But at the same time, she didn’t really regret visiting Britta. Slowly she was starting to gather more pieces of the puzzle. They were diffuse and vague, but they were beginning to form a picture of her mother that was more complete than the one she’d had before.
It was odd that she’d never even heard the names Erik, Britta, or Frans. At one time in her mother’s life they must have been very important to her. But none of them seemed to have remained in contact with the others after they’d grown up, even though they’d gone on living in little Fjällbacka.
Both Axel and Britta had portrayed Elsy as a warm and thoughtful young woman, something she found hard to reconcile with her own memories of her mother. She wouldn’t have said that her mother was a mean person, but she’d been so reserved, so closed off, that it was as if any warmth she might once have possessed had been extinguished long before Erica and Anna were born. Erica was suddenly overwhelmed by sorrow as she thought of all the things she’d missed out on. Things that she would never be able to reclaim. Her mother was gone, dead in a car accident four years ago, along with Tore – Erica and Anna’s father. There was nothing that Erica could revive, nothing she could demand compensation for, nothing she could plead or beg for, no accusations that she could level against her mother. The only thing she could hope to find was clarity. What had happened to the Elsy Axel and Britta had known? What had happened to the warm, tender-hearted Elsy?
A knock on the front door interrupted Erica’s thoughts, and she got up to open it.
‘Anna? Come in.’ With the keen eyes of an older sister, she immediately observed Anna’s red-rimmed eyes. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, sounding more concerned than she’d intended. Anna had been through so much during the past few years; Erica had never been able to relinquish the maternal role that she’d taken on when they were growing up.
‘Just problems with trying to merge two separate families,’ said Anna, with a feeble laugh. ‘Nothing I can’t handle, but it would be great to talk about it.’
‘Then let’s talk,’ said Erica. ‘I’ll pour you a cup of coffee, and if I dig around in the cupboard I can probably find some treat we can have to console ourselves.’
‘Does that mean you’ve given up on the diet now that you’re a married woman?’ said Anna.
‘Don’t even get into that,’ sighed
Erica, heading for the kitchen. ‘After spending a week sitting at my desk, I’m going to have to buy new trousers pretty soon. These ones are starting to feel as tight as a sausage skin.’
‘I know exactly what you mean,’ said Anna, sitting down at the table. ‘Since moving in with Dan, it feels like I’ve put on pounds. And it doesn’t help matters that Dan seems able to eat everything in sight without gaining so much as an ounce.’
‘It’s easy to resent him for that,’ said Erica, putting some buns on a plate. ‘Does he still eat cinnamon rolls for breakfast?’
‘You mean he was already doing that back when the two of you were together?’ laughed Anna. ‘Just imagine how hard it is to convince the kids that a healthy breakfast is important when Dan sits there dipping cinnamon rolls in hot chocolate right in front of their eyes.’
‘Patrik dips his lumpfish caviar sandwiches with cheese in hot chocolate too, and that’s not much better. So, tell me, what’s been going on. Is Belinda making trouble again?’
‘Uh-huh, that’s the crux of the matter, all right, but everything is getting so unpleasant. Today Dan and I started fighting because of it and . . .’ Anna looked unhappy as she took a bun from the plate. ‘It’s not really Belinda’s fault – that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to Dan. She’s reacting to a situation that’s new for her, one that’s not of her own choosing. And she’s right. She didn’t ask to have me and a couple of kids foisted on her.’
‘I suppose that’s true, but she should still behave in a civilized manner. And that’s Dan’s job. Dr Phil says that a step-parent should never discipline a child her age.’
‘Dr Phil?’ Anna laughed so hard that a crumb got stuck in her throat and she started coughing. ‘Erica, I can see that it’s high time you emerged from your maternity leave. Dr Phil?’
‘If you must know, I’ve learned a lot by watching Dr Phil,’ said Erica, sounding offended. Nobody got away with joking about her idol. Dr Phil’s TV show had been the highpoint of her days the past year, and lately she’d even considered taking a lunch break from her writing so she could watch him.
‘But I suppose he does have a point,’ Anna admitted begrudgingly. ‘I feel like Dan either doesn’t take things seriously enough, or else he takes them too seriously. Since Friday I’ve had the worst time keeping him from fighting with Pernilla over how to raise the children. He started going on about how he couldn’t trust her to take care of them and . . . Well, he got really angry. And in the middle of everything, Belinda came downstairs and then it all really went to hell. Now Belinda doesn’t want to live with us any more, so Dan put her on a bus to Munkedal.’
‘How are Emma and Adrian coping?’ Erica took another bun from the plate. She’d go back on her diet next week. Definitely. She just needed this week to get into a regular writing routine, and then . . .
‘So far so good, knock on wood.’ Anna tapped the kitchen table. ‘They idolize Dan and the girls and think it’s great to have big sisters. So, for the time being, there’s no trouble on that front.’
‘What about Malin and Lisen? How are they handling it?’ Erica was referring to Belinda’s younger sisters, who were eleven and eight.
‘They’re doing fine too. They like playing with Emma and Adrian and seem to tolerate me, at least. No, it’s mostly Belinda who’s having a hard time. But she’s at that age, you know, when things are difficult.’ Anna sighed and then reached for another bun too. ‘What about you? How are things going here? Are you making progress on the book?’
‘It’s going okay, I suppose. It’s always slow in the beginning. I have a lot of research material to process, plus I’ve also booked a lot of interviews. Everything’s starting to take shape. But . . .’ Erica hesitated. She had a deeply rooted instinct to protect her sister, but she decided that Anna had a right to know what had been preoccupying her lately. She started from the beginning and quickly told her sister about the medal and the other things she’d found in Elsy’s chest, about the diaries and the fact that she’d talked to several people about their mother’s past.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about this before?’ asked Anna.
Erica shifted position uneasily. ‘Er, well, I know I should have, but . . . Does it really matter? I’m telling you now, right?’
Anna seemed to be considering whether to argue the point, but then she apparently decided to let it pass.
‘I’d like to see all of it,’ she said curtly. Erica quickly got up, relieved that her sister wasn’t going to yell at her for neglecting to share what she’d discovered.
‘Of course. I’ll go get everything.’ Erica ran upstairs to her workroom. When she came back, she set the items on the kitchen table: the diaries, the child’s shirt, and the medal.
Anna stared. ‘How on earth did she come by this?’ she said, picking up the medal and holding it in the palm of her hand as she studied it intently. ‘And this – who did this belong to?’ She held up the little stained shirt. ‘Is that rust?’ She leaned closer to examine the patches that covered a good deal of the cloth.
‘Patrik thinks it’s blood,’ said Erica, which made Anna sit up with a start.
‘Blood? Why would Mamma keep a child’s shirt covered with blood in an old chest in the attic?’ With a look of disgust, she dropped the shirt on the table and picked up the diaries.
‘Anything not meant for children in these?’ asked Anna, waving the blue diaries. ‘Any sex stories that will traumatize me for life if I read them?’
‘No,’ said Erica, laughing. ‘Don’t look so worried. Nothing X-rated. There’s actually not much at all. Just some meaningless descriptions of daily life. But there is one thing that I’ve been wondering about . . .’ For the first time Erica felt able to put into words the thought that had been hovering on the edge of her consciousness for a while.
‘What is it?’ asked Anna as she paged through the diaries.
‘Well, I wonder if there are more of these somewhere. The ones in the chest stop in May 1944, when the fourth book was completely filled. And that’s it. Of course, Mamma may have got tired of keeping a diary. But if that was the case, would she have bothered to complete the fourth book? It just seems odd.’
‘So you think there might be more? But what else would they tell you, other than what you’ve already read? I mean, it’s not as if Mamma had a particularly exciting life. She was born and raised here, she met Pappa, we were born, and then, well . . . What more is there?’
‘Don’t say that,’ replied Erica. She wondered how much she should tell her sister. She didn’t have anything concrete, but intuition told her that the medal and the blood-stained shirt would lead to other discoveries, maybe even reveal whatever it was that had cast such a shadow over their lives – hers and Anna’s.
She took a deep breath and recounted in detail the conversations that she’d had with Erik and Axel and Britta.
‘So you went over to Axel Frankel’s house and asked him for the medal only a couple of days after his brother was found dead? My God, he must have thought you were a real vulture,’ said Anna, with the cruel honesty that only a younger sister was capable of.
‘Do you want to hear what they said or not?’ asked Erica indignantly, even though she was inclined to agree with Anna. It hadn’t been very sensitive of her.
When Erica had finished her story, Anna sat staring at her with a frown on her face. ‘It sounds as if they knew a completely different person. What did Britta say about the medal? Did she know why Mamma had a Nazi medal in her possession?’
Erica shook her head. ‘I didn’t have time to ask her. She has Alzheimer’s and after a while she started getting confused, and then her husband came home and he was really upset and . . .’ Erica cleared her throat. ‘Well, he asked me to leave.’
‘Erica!’ cried Anna. ‘Are you telling me that you tried to interrogate a confused old woman? No wonder her husband threw you out! Don’t you think you’re getting a bit too carried away with this?’
‘Oka
y, but aren’t you in the least curious? Why did Mamma keep all these things hidden away? And why do people who knew her then describe someone who bears no resemblance to the mother we grew up with? Somewhere along the way something happened . . . Britta was just starting to tell me when she got confused. She said something about old bones and . . . oh, I can’t remember, but it seemed to me that she was using that as a metaphor for a secret that’s been buried away and . . . Maybe I’m just imagining things, but . . .’ The phone rang, and Erica stopped mid-sentence and got up to answer it.
‘This is Erica. Oh, hi, Karin.’ Erica turned to face Anna, rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Yes, it’s nice to finally have a chance to talk with you too.’ She grimaced at Anna, who hadn’t a clue what it was all about. ‘Patrik? No, he’s not at home right now. He and Maja went over to the station to say hi and then I don’t really know where they were going. I see. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m sure they’d love to go out for a walk with you and Ludde tomorrow. Ten o’clock. At the pharmacy. Okay, I’ll tell him. He’ll have to let you know if he has other plans, but I don’t think he does. Uh-huh. Thanks. I’m sure we’ll talk again. Thanks. You too.’
‘What was that all about?’ asked Anna in surprise. ‘Who’s Karin? And what’s Patrik doing with her at the pharmacy tomorrow morning?’
Erica sat down at the kitchen table. After a long pause she said, ‘Karin is Patrik’s ex-wife. She and her second husband recently moved to Fjällbacka. And it just so happens that, like Patrik, she’s on leave from her job to take care of the baby, so they’re going to take a walk together tomorrow.’
Anna laughed. ‘Did you just set up a date between Patrik and his ex-wife? Good Lord, I can’t believe it. Does he have any ex-girlfriends you could phone to see if they’d like to go along too? We wouldn’t want him to be bored while he’s on paternity leave, the poor guy.’
Erica glared at her little sister. ‘In case you didn’t notice, she was the one who phoned me. And what’s so strange about that, anyway? They’re divorced. Have been for years. And they’re both at home all day with a toddler. No, I don’t think it’s so strange. I really don’t have a problem with it.’
The Hidden Child Page 16