Then he turned and set off towards the tower.
It was very quiet when he got home. Perhaps his mum had gone out. Quickly he went from room to room, and eventually he found her in the restaurant with a cup of coffee.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
He went over and pulled out a chair. ‘Sorry I took off,’ he said quietly.
His mother fingered her cup. ‘I’m the one who should apologize,’ she said. ‘For not listening to you, and because your dad and I lied to you.’
She took a deep breath. Aladdin waited anxiously.
‘I rang your dad,’ she said slowly. ‘We’re not going to make any decision about moving until we’ve spoken to Simona’s father. If he can help us, then we might be able to stay here. If not …’ She paused. ‘If not, then we’ll have to look at other options, because we can’t carry on like this. Your dad and I can’t keep on working flat out; we never see you. Nor can we live with the constant worry that the money is going to run out. It was never like this in the past, and it’s not going to be that way now. OK?’
Aladdin nodded. ‘OK.’
His mother stroked his arm. ‘So where have you been?’
His face brightened. ‘To the priest’s house,’ he said.
‘What on earth—?’ his mother began.
‘It’s true! And guess what? We found it. We found the missing silver!’
His mother burst out laughing. She looked as if she might start crying. ‘You’re just like your dad,’ she said. ‘You think nothing is impossible.’
Aladdin blushed and shrugged.
Some things were difficult, and some things were easy.
But impossible … No, hardly anything was impossible.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was December. Soon it would be Christmas. The snow melted, trickling along the streets. Aladdin finished his school project about the missing silver; his teacher led the applause when he stood up in front of the class and told everyone what had happened.
‘What a story!’ Åsa said.
Two weeks had passed since they dug up the sack in the rectory garden. The church had decided to keep the silver objects; Billie and Aladdin had received a generous reward, which they shared.
Aladdin still hadn’t decided what to do with the money. Perhaps he would buy the biggest model plane he had ever owned.
His dad was back from Turkey. Simona’s father had been in touch, and wanted to set up a catering contract between the Turk in the Tower and his company.
Aladdin’s parents kept on talking about what they should do, over and over again. To begin with, Aladdin’s father really wanted to move back to Turkey, but after a few days he seemed to remember how much he liked Åhus, and started to sound less sure of himself.
Eventually they decided to stay for a while longer.
‘But there’s one thing you have to understand, Aladdin,’ his father said gravely. ‘We can’t live on fresh air. If the restaurant here in Åhus doesn’t work, then we’ll have to think of something else. We might have to move, and we should regard the fact that we could move back to Turkey as something positive. It’s not everyone who has the choice of two countries.’
The people on the refugee boat had had to move. They couldn’t stay there after the fire. According to the newspaper, they were living in apartments in Kristianstad on a temporary basis while they waited to hear whether they would be allowed to remain in Sweden. Once they had gone, the boat simply vanished. A man out walking his dog said he saw it sailing away in the middle of the night. Just like when it had first appeared in the harbour.
It wasn’t only the refugee boat that vanished; the children who had been staying with Mats were gone too. They were living with their parents in Kristianstad. When Mats confessed everything, Aladdin’s father wanted to sack him, but Aladdin spoke up for him. Mats hadn’t stolen the food for himself, he had taken it to give to others.
‘This isn’t about who Mats gave the food to,’ Aladdin’s father said. ‘It’s about the fact that we can’t trust him any more. He should have come to us and explained the situation, and we would have given him food. Perhaps not as much as he took, but whatever we could manage.’
‘But he couldn’t be sure of that,’ Aladdin protested.
Eventually they decided that Mats could stay, but Aladdin noticed his father giving Mats a sidelong look from time to time.
‘So we’ve found the silver, the refugee boat has gone, and the food thief has been caught,’ Billie summarized. ‘And best of all, you’re staying in Åhus! Everything’s back to normal.’
They were on their way to Ella’s house to return the photographs they’d borrowed. They could have left them in the church, but Ella had been so kind that they wanted to go and see her.
They were also curious about what she thought the Silver Boy would do now that the silver had been found.
‘I think he’s at peace,’ Ella said firmly.
They were standing in her hallway. Aladdin and Billie looked at one another.
‘He won’t be here in Åhus any more,’ Ella said. ‘Not now the silver has been returned to its rightful owner.’
‘No,’ Aladdin said; to tell the truth, he didn’t really know what to say.
‘Are you sure you never saw him?’ Ella said, narrowing her eyes.
Aladdin nodded quickly. ‘Of course not.’
‘Wait here,’ Ella said. She disappeared, and came back with a black-and-white photograph in her hand.
‘I managed to find a picture of the Silver Boy – Orvar’s son,’ she said. ‘It was in an old box I hadn’t had time to go through.’
She handed the picture to Aladdin. ‘Are you still sure you’ve never seen him?’
The boy in the photograph was wearing short trousers and a striped jumper. Aladdin swallowed hard, several times – because the boy bore a strong resemblance to the one he had seen in the garden and on the church steps. The boy who didn’t leave any footprints in the snow.
If only he could be sure – really, really sure – that the snow had simply covered his tracks.
But I just don’t know, he thought. I don’t know if it was Benjamin, who was staying with Mats. Or if it was the Silver Boy.
Or both.
It occurred to him for the first time that it hadn’t necessarily been the same boy each time, but he said to Ella: ‘I’m sure. I’ve never seen him.’
She looked disappointed. ‘Oh well, if you say so.’
As they were leaving, Billie looked at him.
‘You’re not sure at all, are you?’
‘About what?’
‘Whether the boy in the short trousers was one of the refugees, or whether he was the Silver Boy.’
Aladdin thought for a moment before he answered. ‘I think it was the boy from the cellar that I saw. But no, I’m not absolutely certain.’
A large black bird flew past them and settled at the top of one of the pine trees.
‘Me neither,’ Billie admitted.
In silence they crossed the little footbridge over the river. Aladdin looked to the right and left, but there was no sign of the boy in the short trousers.
He decided it didn’t matter any more. If the boy was from the refugee boat, he had somewhere to live now. And if it was the Silver Boy, then he had got what he wanted. Billie and Aladdin had found the silver. They hadn’t said a word to anyone about Orvar’s letter and his confession. Mats was right. Something that had happened a hundred years ago could remain in the past.
They headed towards the square and café Kringlan. It was just as Billie had said.
Everything was back to normal.
The boy in the short trousers followed them for one last time. Neither Billie nor Aladdin noticed him. Perhaps he was wondering whether to say something to them, but he didn’t. Instead he turned off into the churchyard. He walked quickly, and disappeared round the side of the church.
But there was no sign of any footprints in the snow.
>
About the Author
Kristina Ohlsson is a political scientist, with recent experience as a Counter-Terrorism Officer. She has previously worked at the Swedish Security Service, the Ministry for Foreign Affairs and the Swedish National Defense College. The Glass Children was her first novel for children and is a prize-winning bestseller in Sweden. Kristina lives in Stockholm.
Also by Kristina Ohlsson
The Glass Children
For adult readers:
Unwanted
Silenced
The Disappeared
Hostage
The Chosen
RHCP DIGITAL
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Swedish edition published 2014 (as Silverpojken by Lilla Piratförlaget)
This edition published 2017
This ebook published 2017
Copyright © Kristina Ohlsson, 2014
Published by agreement with Salomonsson Agency
Translation copyright © Marlaine Delargy, 2017
Cover artwork copyright © Andrew Bannecker, 2016
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978–1–448–19417–9
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The Silver Boy Page 12