by S. J. Gazan
“I’d like to go to bed now,” Anna muttered.
“But are you all right?” Lene asked. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“No,” Anna said. “It’s okay. I’m just tired.”
Once Anna was alone, she took off her damp running clothes and sat naked on a chair in front of the fire. She opened the doors and let the warmth soften her skin. She checked her cell. Only one of the missed calls was from Lene. The other two were from Søren Marhauge’s cell. Johannes still hadn’t returned her calls. She rested her head against the back of the chair and spent a long time studying a framed photograph on the wall above the wood stove. It was black and white, and it had been with her since her childhood. Cecilie and Jens, very young, both with long, unruly hair and unlined faces. Jens had his arm around Cecilie’s shoulder; it looked as if he was nudging her gently toward the lens. Anna was peeking out between them; she was laughing and her eyes shone.
Anna had always loved that picture, but suddenly she couldn’t understand why. Cecilie didn’t look happy at all. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were dead. Jens’s arm rested heavily on her shoulder. If he were to let go, she would fall out of the frame. Jens’s gaze showed determination that this picture would happen. As though he knew the moment must be captured, so the image could accompany his daughter into adult life and remind her of her happy childhood. Anna’s own grin was broad, her eyes sparkled with euphoric stars, and she was on top of the world. But the adults were suffering.
Around midnight she had spread her own and Lily’s personal papers across the living room floor. Her own were reasonably well organized; she had Cecilie to thank for that. Anna looked briefly at her own birth certificate. When Lily was born, Thomas and she had disagreed vehemently about what her name would be and finally, two days before the mandatory six-month deadline was up, they had drawn lots. “Or we’ll just have to name her after the queen,” Anna had joked, but had secretly breathed a sigh of relief when the winning ticket said Lily. When Anna herself was born, the rules would appear to have been less strict. She had been named Anna Bella Nor on November 12, 1978, when she was almost eleven months old. She put the birth certificate aside and began looking through Lily’s papers, which she had chucked into a large buff envelope. The colorful child-health record book from the health visitor, the very first photographs from the maternity ward, and the plastic ID bracelet from the hospital. Anna had intended to create a scrapbook for Lily, but nothing had come of it. She and Thomas had broken up between Lily’s nine- and twelve-month checkups. Their health visitor had been shocked when she came to see Lily and found Anna falling apart. Anna had made tea while the health visitor rolled colored balls to Lily.
Suddenly, the health visitor had said, “And I thought you were such a lovely family.”
Anna knew she meant no harm, but she exploded with anger and screamed at the woman.
“We still are. With or without Thomas.”
The health visitor had apologized, Anna burst into tears, and Lily refused to play with the colored balls.
Feeling a little sad, Anna flicked through Lily’s child-health record book, scared to stir up memories that might upset her. The teething, the endless nights when Anna paced up and down with her inconsolable baby so as not to disturb Thomas, on the brink of insanity from exhaustion, yet simultaneously more ecstatic than she thought possible. Lily had gained weight, the numbers recorded for posterity in the health visitor’s neat handwriting. Anna ran her fingertips over all the new skills Lily had acquired.
Anna’s own child-health record book from 1978 was orange, the paper slightly furry, and the tone more businesslike than in Lily’s. Curious to know more, Anna leafed through it. She had started crawling when she was eight months old, and she took her first steps two days after her first birthday, she read. The health visitor recommended cod-liver oil and hard-boiled egg yolk, and had written down how positive it was that Anna ate meat and fruit. There had to be a second book, Anna thought, as she looked through it. Recordkeeping in the one she was looking at now had begun in September 1978, when Anna would have been around eight months old, and ended in January 1979. Anna says “oops” and “no,” it read. Anna smiled. The name of the health visitor, Ulla Bodelsen, was neatly printed on a dotted line.
She got up, went to her computer and searched the telephone directory for Ulla Bodelsen. She got two hits. An Ulla Karup Bodelsen who lived in Skagen, and an Ulla Bodelsen listed as living in Odense. She noted both numbers and sat for a while looking at the note before she put it aside. Anna says “oops” and “no” echoed inside her head. She stared at the photograph again. The mouths of Cecilie and Jens were smiling, but Anna’s smile was the only genuine one. She was three years old in the picture and had no hidden agenda. Just like Lily.
It was almost one o’clock in the morning when Anna went to bed. For the first time in days, she slept a sound, untroubled sleep.
When she woke up Thursday morning, she was cold. She lit a fire, turned up the radiators, made oatmeal, and put far too much sugar on it.
“Yummy,” Lily said, skillfully scalping the oatmeal with her spoon. “More sugar, please.”
Anna sprinkled a little more into her bowl and rubbed her nose against the back of Lily’s neck.
“I’ll pick you up early today,” she whispered.
“I want to go to Granny’s,” Lily declared. Anna sat down at the table and looked into Lily’s eyes.
“No, Lily, you’re not going to Granny’s today.”
“Granny makes pancakes,” Lily argued.
“You can have pancakes here,” Anna said. “With ice cream.”
“Ice cream,” Lily exclaimed, overjoyed, and looked in the direction of the freezer.
“Not now, Lily. This afternoon,” Anna replied.
“No, ice cream now.”
Anna sighed, found another bowl and scooped two hard balls out of a tub. Lily hoovered the contents of the bowl and wanted more. In the end, Anna had to carry her howling daughter into the hall and put her into her snowsuit. But suddenly, Lily threw her arms around Anna.
“You’re my mom,” she said.
Anna was touched. “And you’re my cuddle bunny,” she replied, softly.
“Bloppen is coming with me to school,” Lily declared.
“Then go find him.”
While Lily rummaged around her bedroom, Anna zipped up her jacket and thought about Johannes, who had still not called, and then about the man who had come to see her last night. It had to be Johannes, who else could it have been? The World’s Most Irritating Detective would surely have shown his ID. Anna sent Johannes another text.
Johannes darling. Please call me. I’m really sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry that I shouted at you. By the way, did you stop by last night? Please call!
Anna remembered the note with the telephone numbers for the health visitor. It was still lying next to the computer and she stuffed it in her pocket.
“Come on, Lily.” She called down the hallway to Lily’s room.
Lily was dawdling. Anna waited on the landing and called out again.
“Lily, come on.”
At that moment she heard a security chain rattle and a dark gap appeared behind her neighbor Maggie’s door. Maggie peered out, and when Anna said “hi,” her face lit up, she closed the door, removed the chain, and joined Anna on the landing.
“Look at the state of you,” she exclaimed. “You have Olympic-size bags under your eyes. Have you had gentlemen callers?” Maggie wore a floor-length dressing gown and her hair stood out on all sides.
“Not exactly,” Anna said, but couldn’t help smiling.
Maggie pulled the dressing gown tighter and suddenly glanced anxiously down the stairwell.
“So who is he then? It did seem a little odd.”
Anna froze.
“What do you mean?”
The old lady scrutinized Anna.
“The man who came back last night. It all seemed very strange to me. The oth
er day I asked him if he wanted a drink. I didn’t want him sitting out here getting cold, did I? But he declined and, after last night, I’m very glad that he did.”
“What do you mean, the other day?” Anna asked, massaging a spot on her upper chest through her jacket.
“The other day. Yesterday? Or was it two days ago? What are you doing?” Maggie asked, indicating Anna’s hand. Anna sighed.
“It’s nothing. It’s my heart. It’s racing. What did he look like?”
“He had lovely eyes… and he was tall. He looked nice. Nice and a tad nervous. He wore a hat and a long black coat. His hair was auburn.” Maggie touched her ear to show where his hair had stuck out.
“It must have been Johannes. What did he say?”
“I was coming back with my groceries, and you know how I leave the bags on the landing and carry them upstairs, one at a time. When I came up with the first bag, there he was. Very polite, asked if he could help me, and then he carried my groceries upstairs. He said he was one of your friends, so I invited him in, but as I said, he declined. He glanced at his watch as though he was in a hurry,” Maggie explained. “And yesterday, when I saw him sitting there again, I thought it odd and I nearly called the police. And then, suddenly, he was gone. Like the last time. As though he had changed his mind. Strange, don’t you think? Either you need to see someone or you don’t. I rushed to my balcony to check if the light was on in your apartment, but it was dark as the grave,” she said dramatically and narrowed her eyes.
“It must have been Johannes,” Anna repeated, to herself mainly. “Think back. When was the first time he came here?”
“Three days ago,” Maggie declared.
Lily came outside with Bloppen tucked under her arm.
“Can I have a Gummi Bear, please?” she asked. Maggie shuffled back inside her apartment, closely followed by Lily. Anna remained outside. It was going to be a long day.
Anna received a text just as they entered the nursery school. She reached into her pocket for her mobile, but the mayhem of children and parents in the coat room distracted her. Lily ran ahead into the classroom and tugged the skirt of one of her teachers.
“Look!” she called out. “Look! It’s my mom. Look, she’s right there!” Lily pointed and a teacher came out to share Lily’s excitement.
“Look, my one is the lion,” Lily said, sticking out her lower lip. Since when had her speech developed so quickly? Anna thought. “I’ve got the lion, Anton has the rhinoceros, and Fatima has a fried egg,” Lily explained and pointed to some small wooden shapes stuck to the wall above the peg rail.
“Do you have long to go before you finish your dissertation?” the teacher asked.
“No,” Anna said, looking up in surprise.
“She misses you,” the teacher said softly.
“She has her granny,” Anna defended herself.
“Sure,” the teacher said. “But you’re her mother, and she talks about you all the time.” Then she turned on her heel and left.
“I’m four years old,” Lily said.
“No, darling. In five weeks you’ll be three years old.” Anna held up five fingers. “And I’ll pick you up at four o’clock,” she went on and removed one finger.
Outside the school she fished out her cell and smiled when she saw the text from Johannes.
Apology accepted. We’re still friends. I just need to be alone for a while. Hugs. P.S. I was at home all of last night and didn’t visit you. Must have been one of your other admirersJ
Anna breathed a sigh of relief. Johannes wasn’t upset. But then, who could the visitor have been?
She was on her way into Building 12 when her cell rang. It was Cecilie.
“No, you don’t need to pick her up,” Anna said, before Cecilie had time to say anything.
“Ah, right, well, okay. Bye then, Anna,” she said, sounding hurt. Then she continued, “But it wouldn’t be a problem today. My meeting has been canceled, and I could pick her up as early as two o’clock. Saves her wasting her afternoon at the school.”
Anna lost her temper and screamed. “You’re not picking her up, do you hear me?! Christ Almighty, why can’t you leave us alone? I’ll call you tonight.” She ended the call and stuffed her phone into her pocket.
The seal on Helland’s door had been broken, and as Anna walked past she could see crime scene investigators inside the office. She slowed down. They were wearing thin white boiler suits and spoke quietly to each other. The floor in the corridor was covered with dirty footprints, and Anna had an irrepressible urge to eavesdrop. Why had the police come back? When she entered her study, she saw that Johannes’s computer was gone. An official-looking form had been left on top of one of his piles of paper, briefly stating it had been confiscated by the police. Anna took out her mobile.
The police have walked off with your computer, she texted.
No reply.
Cecilie, too, stayed silent.
At noon Anna went to the cafeteria and bought two sandwiches and two cartons of juice before she made her way to the museum. She let herself into the Vertebrate Collection with her master key. The ceiling light was on and she found Dr. Tybjerg at a desk, writing on a lined pad. Several reference books and boxes of bones were beside him. Tybjerg looked up, startled.
“Oh, it’s you.” He sounded relieved.
“You slept here last night, Dr. Tybjerg, I know you did,” she said.
Tybjerg studied his hands and Anna noticed how his nostril had started to twitch. She placed a sandwich in front of him.
“Why don’t you sleep at home?” she demanded, losing patience with his paranoia. Dr. Tybjerg looked worried.
“Anna,” he begged. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please!”
“Tell anyone what?”
“For the past eight months I’ve been living in my office,” he confessed. “To save money. Traveling to excavations… it all adds up. I lost my apartment. No one knows yet. The last few nights I’ve been sleeping in here. Is that for me?” He touched the sandwich hopefully.
“Yes,” Anna replied, and handed him a carton of juice. She was shocked to see Dr. Tybjerg rip off the wrapping and wolf down the food.
“You’re also hiding from Freeman, aren’t you?” she said.
Tybjerg was eating and didn’t reply. Anna snapped. She removed the lid from one of the boxes, took out a bone, and slammed it down in front of her supervisor.
“This,” she hissed, “is the hand of a bird. It has a half-moon-shaped carpus, which overlaps the basis of the two first metacarpal bones in the wrist common to all maniraptora, that is all birds, both ancient and modern. It’s a homologue feature, which underlines the close kinship of prehistoric birds to modern ones. Freeman disagrees. He thinks the dinosaur’s carpus may have had a feature that, at first glance, could be mistaken for a semilunar, but that the two bones only bear a superficial likeness, and this apparent similarity has no impact on their relationship.” Anna sent the bone skidding across the desk and stuck her hand into the box a second time.
“And this one—” she started.
“Stop,” Dr. Tybjerg implored her.
“—is the pubic bone.” Anna ignored him. “Those of us who know better, know that both theropods and Archaeopteryx and a couple of enantiornithine birds from the early Cretaceous had an enlarged distal on the pubic bone, i.e., another homologue feature. Of course, Freeman denies this. Further, there is the dispute about the position of the pubic bone. And the dispute about feathers, about phylogenetic methods, about the stratigraphic junction, about the ascending process of the talus bone, about everything.” Anna looked at Dr. Tybjerg.
“That’s why he’s come to Denmark, Dr. Tybjerg. To win an argument he has no chance of ever winning; not to kill Helland, or you, or me, or my daughter.”
“Stop it,” Tybjerg howled. His knuckles were white. He rose. “It’s pointless,” he said, taking the rest of his sandwich and disappearing down the dark aisles. She could hear him shuffle a
round and didn’t know what to do. She slapped her head with the palm of her hand.
Her cell rang on her way back to the department. It was Jens.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Anna, hi.” He sounded breathless. “I’m on a job. In Odense, as it happens.”
“Right,” Anna said. She was walking down the glass corridor that connected the museum and the Institute of Biology.
“Listen, Anna,” he said. “Your mom just called me. She sounded quite upset.”
“Right,” Anna said again.
“What’s going on?” Jens asked. “I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure, but be nice to your mom, please? She does so much for you, Anna sweetheart.”
Anna glowed red-hot with rage. She was speechless.
“She says you screamed at her and hung up. What’s that all about?”
Anna finally got her voice under control.
“Please can you explain to me when my mother became so fragile?” Anna sneered. “Since when is she made of glass? Can you tell me that? She’s had special treatment all my life. My whole freaking life.”
“Anna,” Jens said after a pause. “Calm down.”
“No, I won’t!”
“You calm down right now!” Jens shouted.
“Do you know what you can do? You can call my mother and remind her that Lily is my child. And when she accepts that, then she can call me. For God’s sake, Dad, Cecilie cut Lily’s hair and had her ears pierced without asking me first!”
Jens was silent.
Then he said, “She’s only trying to help.”
“I don’t need any help,” she said. “From you or her.”
At four o’clock that afternoon, she picked Lily up from nursery school.
Chapter 8
Clive woke up in his house on Vancouver Island, wondering why he had slept on the sofa. Then he remembered hitting Kay. He showered and shaved in the guest bedroom. He put eggs on to boil, fried bacon, and made toast and tea. He put plates and utensils on a tray and carried it out to the garden, and then he set the table. The sun was shining, the air was mild and hazy. Kay always put a tablecloth on first, but Clive couldn’t find one. He found some napkins instead and put the plates on top of them. Then he went upstairs to get Kay.