Lycke

by Mikaela Bley

  ‘Strange? Do you know what I think is strange?’ she said, getting up abruptly. ‘Do you want me to make a list of all the strange things that have happened the past few days? You’re the only one here who knows that my twin sister disappeared when we were eight years old, and you, you, are the one who throws Lycke’s disappearance into my path and asks me to get the viewers to feel something about it. Do you realise just how damned sick that is? Then there’s some bastard who sends a picture of Elsa and wants me to die. With everything that’s happening right now.’ She was forced to catch her breath. ‘Did you get a kick out of how she was eight years old, too, or what?’

  Jimmy looked down at the ground.

  ‘Was this what you hoped for, that I would break down and that would make for better news? Then you start talking about threats against me, and some anonymous bastard sends me a picture of my dead sister. How the hell is that possible? Huh? Can you answer that?’ she screamed.

  ‘Calm down,’ Jimmy said, reaching out a hand to soothe her. ‘You don’t really think that’s true, do you? I’m sorry. It turned out wrong, I agree — but if I hadn’t asked you, that would have been wrong, too. What should I have done? And to be quite honest, you were the best to take on the story. Can you see Leif reporting on this? I understand that you’re upset, but I would never do anything to hurt you. Never.’

  You already have.

  Her whole body was shaking, and she clasped her hands together to try to bring the trembling under control.

  ‘Do you know what’s also damned strange about this whole mess?’ she continued, with the last of her energy. ‘In the pile of old cases that you so nicely delivered to my home last night —’ she bit her lip so hard now that there was a metallic taste in her mouth ‘— sitting almost at the top of that pile was Elsa’s case. What a coincidence,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘What are you trying to say?’

  She suddenly couldn’t get out another word. The whole room was spinning, and she leaned against the wall to stop herself from falling.

  Jimmy took a step toward her, then stopped and regarded her with that look she was so afraid of. Judging her. It was the same look she’d seen on the faces of her own family — the reason she never spoke about what had happened all that time ago, when she was eight years old.

  Ellen backed away a few steps.

  He nodded slowly. ‘We have to file a police report. You need to have a think about who it might be, and why anyone would send this to you now.’

  MONA

  8.00 A.M.

  The subway thundered across the Traneberg bridge. Mona was glad she’d left the car at home. She was in no state to drive today.

  It had been three days since Lycke disappeared. A black, endless hole of sadness.

  The train went into the tunnel.

  When she got off at Östermalm, she could barely remember how she got there. Her legs felt heavy and there was a tightness in her chest.

  She walked slowly along Nybrogatan. She was usually on time — but there was nothing usual about this morning. Occasionally, she had to stop to catch her breath.

  She inserted the keys to the apartment on Karlavägen and let them sit in the lock for a few seconds before turning them. She was afraid of what was waiting on the other side. Afraid of how she would handle Lycke not being there.

  Usually, there would be life and movement when she came in the morning, but now the silence was deafening.

  ‘Hello,’ she said quietly, looking around in the dark hall. No Lycke sneaking out into the hall and hugging her.

  The morning hug was usually awkward. It was as if Lycke was angry and disappointed at her because she’d left her alone all through the night. On Mondays, it was worst. Then they hadn’t seen each other for several days, and it took her a long time to warm up. It was almost as if Lycke was punishing Mona for having abandoned her all weekend.

  Lycke seldom told her what she was feeling or how she was doing. Sometimes Mona brought books with her that she had checked out of the library and read to Lycke. It was an old trick she’d often used to get children to talk. Storybooks that were about divorces, every-other-week families, feeling invisible, problems with friends. Loneliness. The list of topics was long. It usually worked on other children who were more talkative, and sometimes it even worked on Lycke.

  Last week, the hug had been almost non-existent. It had been a tough weekend, she understood, and Lycke had been more introverted than usual the whole week.

  She set aside her straggly little umbrella and hung her coat up in the cloakroom next to the front door.

  She stood in the hall, not knowing whether she should turn right toward the bedrooms or left toward the kitchen, living room, and dining room.

  Actually, it was Helena’s week, but when she spoke with Helena yesterday they agreed that there was no point in her coming today. Mona was engaged after all to take care of Lycke. After that, Harald had called and asked her to help Chloé, and she didn’t have the heart to say no. She had to help out.

  She reluctantly put on her indoor shoes. She felt a nagging worry and didn’t really know where she should start.

  ‘There you are. Hi.’

  Chloé’s voice cut through the silence.

  Mona adjusted her blouse and pulled at her skirt before she turned toward Chloé, who was coming toward her down the hall.

  ‘Ludde has been up all night and I’m all worn out. Everything is completely upside down. He just fell asleep and I have to go lie down. Can you keep an eye on him, please?’ She went up to the front door and checked that it was locked. ‘I’m completely paranoid; it feels as if someone is out to get us. You mustn’t let anyone in. Promise me that.’

  Mona nodded. She never stopped being fascinated by Chloé, in a morbid way. How could she be so loving toward her own child, but at the same time so cold toward Lycke? It was beyond Mona’s comprehension. Her behaviour was as contradictory as the Bible.

  ‘Ludde is in his bed. All our routines have been completely upset this weekend. We have to go back to Gina Ford or Anna Wahlgren, or whatever method it was we were doing.’ She rolled up the sleeves on her bathrobe. ‘I don’t even remember which it was, so you know how I tired I am,’ she said, feeling her cheeks with her fingers. ‘My God, I still have my facial mask on. It’s been on way too long now. That can lead to the skin becoming overly stressed, and then it has the opposite effect,’ she said, rushing off to the bathroom.

  ‘Would you do the dishes, too?’ Chloé called from the bathroom. ‘Please?’

  ‘Yes, sure,’ Mona answered quietly. Even though she wasn’t hired to clean, she didn’t have the energy to argue. And they had to help each other now. Hopefully, the clatter of dishes would drown out her worried thoughts.

  She started by looking in on Ludde, who was sleeping in his crib. He looked so peaceful there, lying on his back with his arms outstretched.

  She caressed his rosy cheeks carefully, so as not to wake him. Luckily, he had no idea what was happening out there. He hadn’t yet been affected by all the evil — and hopefully never would be.

  Mona went out into the kitchen and started clearing up the remains of breakfast. And the rest of the weekend, she noted when she saw the mountain of dishes. Even though they had two dishwashers, they hadn’t managed to put in a single plate, or glass either, for that matter.

  She got out the yellow dishwashing gloves from the drawer under the sink and pulled them over her chapped hands. The smell from the rubber gloves mingled with the smell of dried food scraps.

  She breathed through her mouth and tried to scrub off the baby porridge. Was this how it would end?

  Mona’s fingers slipped and she dropped the porridge bowl in the ceramic sink with a crash. She stopped and was silent for a few seconds, worried that Chloé had heard her.

  She let her hands rest in the sink and looked out
the window toward the shady courtyard.

  Lycke’s pink bicycle was leaning against the shed.

  God preserve me.

  Mona took a few deep breaths before she started on the baby bottles.

  She had been invited to Karl’s graduation reception on Friday. Karl was a boy she’d taken care of for many years. To think that he’d gotten so big. Friday was also the day she would retire. It fit so perfectly, she remembered thinking when the invitation to his reception arrived. Now everything just felt dark. But she wanted to hug that boy so much. She missed him, missed all the children she’d worked with. How would she manage without all these little treasures? She was warmed by the memories.

  ‘The clatter you make! Please be more careful.’ Chloé came into the kitchen.

  She hadn’t gotten dressed yet, and Mona wished she didn’t have to see that skeleton clad in nothing but underwear. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Last Friday, you broke a glass.’

  Mona didn’t want to remember, but it was unavoidable. She had dropped a glass in the sink. It was the same day that Lycke disappeared. Harald was talking with Helena on the phone, asking her to take Lycke that weekend.

  It was Chloé who didn’t want Lycke there. And that spineless Harald let his new wife rule and his daughter suffer.

  Chloé squeezed past, and Mona shuddered when she grazed against her.

  Chloé pulled out the drawer beside her and started searching for something.

  ‘Was Ludde sick?’ Mona asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Chloé, pausing in her rummaging.

  ‘Well, I was just thinking. You were so afraid that Lycke would infect him. Yes, wasn’t that why you wanted her to stay with Helena last weekend?’

  Chloé stared at her with watery eyes.

  Mona knew that she was treading on thin ice. But what did that matter? Nothing mattered any more.

  ‘I see, yes, exactly,’ Chloé answered. ‘Ludde managed, as luck would have it,’ she continued, shutting the drawer.

  ‘But, was it good for Lycke to play tennis if she was so sick?’

  Chloé shrugged. ‘I don’t know. What do you mean? I wasn’t the one who decided that she should play tennis.’

  That’s true, thought Mona, but you were the one who decided that she couldn’t stay here last weekend. You were the one who wanted to get her away so you could play family and pretend that Lycke didn’t exist. ‘Although she didn’t seem sick when I left her at school,’ Mona said, turning on the water, and then picking up a plate and rinsing it.

  Chloé didn’t seem to react to what she said, or else she was avoiding answering. She knew just as well as Mona that Lycke had been well. Chloé always had excuses for why Lycke couldn’t stay with them. Chloé didn’t want Lycke there. She had never wanted her there.

  Worst of all was that Lycke knew that, too.

  ‘Do you really have to let the water run like that if you’re not doing dishes?’ Chloé asked.

  ‘Sorry,’ Mona said, continuing with the next plate, as she took a step to the side so she didn’t have to stand too close to Chloé.

  Chloé leaned against the counter. ‘Could Lycke have injured herself?’

  It took a while for Mona to take in her question. ‘Why would she have done that?’

  Once again Chloé shrugged her bony shoulders. Didn’t she understand the seriousness of this? Or was that exactly what she understood?

  Mona looked down in the sink. The drain was clogged from all the food scraps, the water slowly trickling down.

  ‘If you could do the laundry, too, that would be nice.’ Chloé went up to the tap and filled her glass. ‘I have to go lie down now.’ Chloé put a tablet in her mouth, took a gulp of water, and then looked at Mona. ‘What? Why are you staring at me like that? I haven’t slept all night, and I feel strange. I have to take a sleeping pill,’ she said, shuffling off toward the bedroom. ‘Only wake me if Harald calls,’ she said, and disappeared.

  Mona wondered where Harald was. Had he not slept at home or had he left early this morning?

  Mona sat down feebly on one of the chairs by the kitchen table. She took a few deep breaths before she got up again. It was just a matter of getting started. There was nothing else for it.

  On the way to the laundry, she passed Lycke’s room. She stopped and looked at the closed door for a long time before deciding to go in. The door creaked when she opened it.

  It didn’t look the way it had when she’d left on Friday. The bed was rumpled. The things on the desk were all in a muddle.

  The curtains were drawn, and she took the liberty of opening them and letting in a little light. She picked up Dog, Lycke’s favourite stuffed animal, and pressed it against her. When she closed her eyes and breathed in the smell from the dog, she could almost see Lycke appear before her.

  Then she caught sight of the lilac ballet dress hanging on the edge of the bed. Mona had given it to her, but Lycke had never had an occasion to wear it, even though she’d dreamed of becoming a ballerina. When Mona felt the tulle skirt with her chapped fingers, it crackled and almost felt as if the fabric was breaking. Just like all little girls’ dreams.

  Mona raised her eyes and looked at Lycke’s school photo on the wall.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’

  Mona turned around with a start.

  ‘No one should be in here. I want you to get out of here,’ Chloé said.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Mona, lowering her head and hurrying toward the door.

  ‘Don’t you hear that Ludde is awake? He’s screaming, and I can’t sleep.’

  ‘I didn’t hear —’

  ‘No, but I did. We shouldn’t be in here, the police told us that,’ she said, closing the door behind them.

  Lycke’s handwritten sign fell down onto the floor. Mona didn’t dare pick it up. She could do that later.

  Instead, she hurried over to Ludde’s room and slipped inside. Just as she thought, he was lying there sleeping. She again patted him gently on the cheek, careful not to wake him up, and determined that he had been sound asleep, and hadn’t screamed.

  When Mona headed back to the laundry room, Chloé had gone to lie down again. She hardly dared look at Lycke’s door as she went past. The sign on the floor was gone.

  Had Chloé thrown it away?

  Mona went into the laundry room and, with a heavy sigh, started sorting the dirty laundry into separate piles.

  Black.

  Socks, pants, towels. Everything that was dark went into the same pile.

  Pink.

  She picked out all the pink garments. Why couldn’t she go in Lycke’s room? Could it really be true that the police had prohibited it?

  Lycke’s sweaters, dresses, tights, she carefully placed in a little pink pile. She picked up a T-shirt with a picture printed on it. A cat with sunglasses. She held it to her nose and breathed in.

  Lycke.

  It could no longer be helped and she felt a tear work its way down her cheek. I can’t wash her clothes, she thought. I can’t wash away her smells. Wash away Lycke? She dried her cheek and carefully folded up the T-shirt. She then picked up the other clothes in the pile and folded them.

  Everything that was blue she threw into a pile without even looking to see what it was.

  White.

  T-shirts. Socks. Disgusting sheets. That was the worst thing she knew, touching their sheets. The bed odour was hard to ignore. She tossed them quickly to the side. A little too quickly. She felt a stabbing pain in her back.

  She reached down to pick up the last garment.

  Harald’s T-shirt.

  When she set it on the pile of white clothes, she noticed something that startled her.

  She picked up the shirt again. Unfolding it, she saw that there was a large stain covering the whole of the lower part. Without think
ing, she ran her fingers over the stain.

  She froze. Tore her hand away.

  It looked like blood, felt like blood. Dried blood.

  There was a pounding in her chest.

  She wanted to scream, but held back. This can’t be true, she thought.

  CHLOÉ

  3.00 P.M.

  Chloé leaned against the doorjamb and stared at Harald and Helena, who were sitting at the kitchen table.

  Ludde was sitting on the floor at her feet, pressing all the buttons on his toy fire truck. The shrill sound of the sirens was giving her a headache.

  ‘It’s awful to live with this uncertainty. I can’t stand it.’

  Harald reached over and placed his hand on Helena’s. ‘We have a plan now, we’re going to find her.’

  Chloé wanted to rush over and tear his hand away.

  ‘Do you really believe that?’ Helena asked, looking at Harald for a long time.

  ‘Let’s just focus now on the reward and the police search of the immediate area.’

  ‘But if the police suspect she’s in the vicinity, why haven’t they found her yet?’ Chloé interrupted.

  Harald and Helena looked at her without answering, and then focussed again on each other.

  No one cared what she had to say.

  Harald didn’t come home last night, didn’t answer his phone, and when he had stepped inside the door, he had his ex-wife with him. Chloé wanted to ask him where he’d been, but didn’t want to call him to account while Helena was there. She didn’t need to know that Harald had slept away from home. If she didn’t already know that.

  ‘Am I right? Shouldn’t they have found her by now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Harald, looking briefly at her.

  Even if she said that she knew where Lycke was, they would still ignore her.

  Yesterday, when she’d taken Ludde for a walk to get him to sleep, she’d seen them together. They were walking only a few hundred metres ahead of her on Strandvägen. Chloé had followed them. She watched as they ended their meeting with a hug that lasted a little too long.