“Hi,” Anna said.
Iris was removing a pile of books. Perhaps she was disturbing her. Should she browse on her own first?
“Hello,” Iris said then, putting the books down. “You’re back already?”
She remembered her.
“I finished Affinity,” Anna explained.
Iris’s lips curled. “That was fast. What did you think?”
“It was great,” she said, immediately trying to think of something deeper to add. “It took me by surprise.” That’s all she could come up with? She groaned, but any standard interpretation she was used to sounded too pompous, too rigid and boring. A linear story with a feminist heroine.
“Would you be interested in another book by Sarah Waters?” Iris asked and Anna nodded.
“Sure.”
She followed Iris as she steered the way, feeling like a kid, walking behind her. The ancient bookcases gave the place character and the soft glow from the overhead lights made it feel like someone’s living room.
“By the way,” Iris said, turning to her. “We’re starting up a book club. Would you want to join?”
Her instinct was to say ‘yes’ but insecurity overcame her.
“I’m not sure,” Anna said honestly. “I probably won’t be able to add much value.”
“Don’t worry about that. The other women aren’t literary geniuses.”
Without the reading glasses on, Iris looked younger. She was probably in her late forties or early fifties. It was hard to tell. She was wearing another stylish ensemble, a tight black knitted dress, oversized silver bangles and fashionable ankle boots.
“I’ll think about it,” Anna said.
“Please do. We start on Wednesday at seven.”
Iris stopped and eyed the uneven row of spines.
“Ah, here it is.” Pulling out a book, she said: “Tipping the Velvet.”
Anna held her hand out but Iris didn’t give her the book at first. Instead, she looked at her seriously.
“This book,” she said. “It’s a bit… erotic. Just so you know.”
Anna broke into a smile and then a giggle. It sounded like Iris was reading out a health warning. MAY CAUSE HEARTBURN. Although Iris didn’t seem to get the joke.
“No problem.” Anna composed herself. “I think I can handle it.”
“More books?” Iris asked and Anna nodded.
“Yes, please.”
*
When they had compiled a stack of books and were ready to scan them, the library was still quiet. It had a wonderfully calm atmosphere, making Anna feel completely stress-free.
“Does your husband read?” Iris asked.
It was an odd question. Anna had enjoyed not thinking about Erik, to just be. Yet there seemed to be an expectation of her to say something.
“Not really,” Anna said. “He’s a painter,” she added as if that would explain his lack of interest in books. The truth was, he didn’t have the patience.
“So is mine,” Iris said and Anna was relieved to meet someone else who wasn’t married to a doctor, lawyer or schoolteacher for that matter. “Maybe Rolf knows him. What’s his name?”
“Erik…” Anna started before she caught on. Iris’s husband was an actual artist and she thought Erik was as well, because obviously, there was no way someone like Iris would be married to a house painter. “…but he paints houses.” Her cheeks reddened.
“Well, that’s being an artist in a way too.”
It was kind of her. “What about your husband?” Anna asked to deflect from herself and Erik.
“He’s Rolf Sören.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him…” She stopped herself.
Now Iris smiled, even showing her teeth.
“That’s alright, I know what you were going to say. The troublemaker.”
Anna smiled. Rolf Sören didn’t do anything conventional according to the papers. His reviews varied but he seemed to thrive on attention. There had even been rumours about him using body parts in his artwork.
“He only used fingernails,” Iris said. She grimaced as if to say ‘what to do?’.
“Didn’t they detect blood in one of his paintings?”
Anna regretted her words immediately. Being nosy was no way to make friends and it wasn’t like her to pry. It was just that Iris fascinated her and this information added a new dimension.
“That was pure PR,” Iris said. “Most rumours are spread by Rolf himself. It makes sales go up, not that I agree with it.”
“But you obviously support him?”
“I do. I adore him.”
She adored him? If only she could say the same about Erik. In that moment, Anna truly wished that she could. At the same time, Iris didn’t seem like the type of woman who would adore anyone. She came across as independent and headstrong, someone to be adored.
“Can I help you with anything else?” Iris asked.
Anna tried to think of new topics of conversation to stay a bit longer, but a woman had made her way over and the moment was lost.
“I hope you will be back soon,” Iris said. “I would love to hear what you think of Tipping the Velvet. And don’t forget. Wednesday, seven o’clock.”
Chapter 14 – Erik
March 2016
“She wasn’t raped,” Erik tells Mum.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Although…”
Mum puts her coffee cup down. “Although what?”
“This could mean nothing but her shirt had been pulled out and her fly was undone. It’s possible that someone… that someone started…” He doesn’t continue the sentence.
“Poor Anna.”
Mum stretches a hand across the table, comforting him.
“I just get so mad,” he says. He clenches his fists, bangs them on the table. “Nobody gives me the full picture. Are the police twiddling their thumbs?”
“They’re busy, Erik. There have been two murders in the city, just in the last week,” Mum says. “That’s highly unusual for this part of the country, isn’t it? That must be draining their resources.”
Mum always has an explanation for everything.
“I’m still upset,” he says.
“I know, honey. I know. But right now we need to focus on Anna getting better.”
“There’s no improvement.”
“Have you spoken to the doctors?”
Of course he has. Every day. “Nothing is better.”
“Something must have improved, Erik, even if it’s minor. Her bruises, for example, they were better when I last saw her.” She moves closer, takes both his hands in hers. “Honey, do you remember when you were kids, you and Jonna? When you had trouble with friends, we used to focus on one good thing?”
“Please don’t talk about Jonna, Mum. Not now.”
“We can’t just pretend she never existed.”
“Mum, I can’t lose a sister and a wife before I’m forty. That would be cruel. I will stop going to church. I will.”
He knows this will upset her and she doesn’t need to know that he already stopped going. What kind of God would make his sister fall off a cliff and die at the mere age of twenty-three?
“She died doing something she loved to do,” Mums says calmly.
“Why do you have to be so damn accepting all the time?”
He gets up, his hands slipping out of hers, the chair falling back onto the tiled floor. He stomps his feet.
“My wife might die, Mum!”
His body feels heavy and drained. Mum gets up, waddles over to him in her indoor slippers and wraps her arms around him, embracing him properly. He bends over to reach her shoulders, leans in. She strokes his hair and as if he’s a little boy again, she starts to sing: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be, let it be…”
“I’m not a baby, Mum,” he sniffles half-heartedly.
She keeps singing and it feels good, soothing. He inhales the musky scent of her cardi
gan.
*
When Erik is back at the hospital, holding Anna’s soft, pale hand, Rob calls him.
“Just checking in, man,” he says. “The gig went well. Thought you’d want to know.”
Great. Now they’re having success. Without him.
“I’ll join you soon, I promise. Once this… this mess is sorted out.”
“Of course, no pressure. We all know you’re going through a tough time.”
Do you? Do you really know? He stops himself. Rob’s his mate, he’s been supportive.
“The police came to my house,” Rob says. “To ask about that night.”
“I know. Sorry about that,” Erik says. “They’re just doing their job.”
He hates that his friends are pulled into this.
“Of course, Erik. But they asked how long I was at your house for and I wasn’t sure. You know me and time.”
Why does Rob sound so nervous? Did he say something he shouldn’t have? Did he mention the laptop? No one has been in touch with him about it, so probably not. Come to think of it, Rob might not know that Anna’s laptop was in that bag. It’s probably better not to bring it up. Anyway, Erik just needs to try and access it a few more times.
“It’s okay,” Erik says supportively. “They’re obviously happy with whatever you said. Also, I owe you for putting me in touch with your ex, Tina. She’s been helpful.”
“Oh, good. Maybe she still has the hots for me? Tell her I said ‘Hi’. No wait, don’t do that, she might get ideas. Don’t say anything.”
“You done?”
“Yes, and Erik… I know I haven’t been around and haven’t said much but I’m really sorry.” He takes a breather, collecting his thoughts perhaps, which undoubtedly would be a first for Rob. “You know I have a soft spot for Anna. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
Erik knows how much this means, coming from Rob.
“Thanks,” he says.
He should call Tina. The police haven’t contacted him regarding Pernilla either and although that should bring relief, it makes him feel worse.
He takes a deep breath, pours a glass of water from the jug on Anna’s bedside table, psyching himself up to call.
Tina picks up almost immediately.
“Hi, Tina, it’s me. Erik.”
“Hi, Erik.”
She sounds happy to hear from him, which makes him relax. He fiddles with his paper, the questions he has written down.
“I’m sorry to bother you again, but have you… um… heard anything more about Pernilla?” He has to ask.
“Sorry, no.”
He decides not to push it.
“Okay,” he says casually. “What about Kent? I haven’t heard anything.”
“This is between us,” she says in a hushed tone and then there’s what Anna would call ‘a theatrical pause’ before she continues: “They were definitely close.”
Right. That could mean many things though. Kent has tried to get in touch with Erik but he hasn’t called him back yet. It seems easier not to.
“He also mentioned a difficult student,” Tina continues in her hushed voice. He wonders where she’s calling from. A quiet corner in the police headquarters? “I’m sure she must have talked about it at home?”
Quite possibly, he thinks and once again, ransacks his brain. Nope, there’s nothing apart from the note that really could mean anything. It might not even be from a student.
“Anyway,” Tina says, now sounding bored. “I don’t know much more.”
He can sense she is about to hang up and he can’t blame her. At the end of the day, why should she tell him anything?
*
That evening he opens Anna’s laptop again. What is her password? He needs to work it out, or at least try to. Her computer must contain emails about the student Tina mentioned. In what way was he difficult? Would he have a reason to hurt Anna? If he can find a possible suspect, then the police will understand that he’s helping them and perhaps include him more. It would make him feel less isolated. They will probably be upset about the laptop being withheld but he will come up with a reasonable explanation. It was at a friend’s house and he only just received it. Something like that.
Mum is proud of him for being proactive but she thinks he should leave it to the experts.
“But I want to do my bit,” he says. “They might be missing something.”
Mum is doing the dishes downstairs when he tries the first password combination. This time he is better prepared and has written down a list of possible options. The children’s names, their surname, birthdays, anniversaries. He starts to type them in, one after the other, together and apart. Try again. Forgotten your password?
He’s about to give up when Mum pops her head into the bedroom.
“Erik, I have to go home for a couple of days next week. I need to make sure your dad is taking his medication. Will you be alright?”
“Sure.” He has to be.
Mum hovers in the doorway. “Is that Anna’s computer?”
He nods, feeling like he’s been caught. “I’m just, you know… looking.”
“Is that wise?” she asks. “Shouldn’t you hand it over to the police?”
She clearly disapproves, but what else can he do?
“I know what I’m doing. They’re not prioritising Anna because she’s still alive.”
“I’m not sure about that, Erik.”
That really frustrates him. She needs to be on his side.
“Have they caught anyone yet?” he says. “No, they haven’t. I will give them the laptop if I find anything, okay? Good night, Mum.”
She leaves him to it but he puts the laptop away, out of guilt. To keep himself occupied, he brushes his teeth, flosses, gargles with mouthwash – all the things that would make Anna proud – before returning to the bedroom to put a pair of pyjamas on. But the laptop beckons to him and he yields to its invisible powers and picks it up again. Like an addict, he just can’t stay away. Three more tries and he’s going to bed, he tells himself. First one. The year the twins were born. SebastianLukas2010.
Try again.
The place and year Anna was born. Gothenburg1982.
Try again.
The place they got married. Lund2009.
The computer kicks into action. Astonished he watches as the screen changes colour. He’s in!
Where to look first? He feels like he’s entered a maze. He opens Outlook and goes through the folders, clicking on the one labelled ‘School’. There are a few messages from Kent but they are all of a practical nature.
Are you booking the restaurant for Anne’s leaving do? There will be fifteen of us…
I think War and Peace is a bit advanced for the students but I know you like to try new methods so I will bring the book tomorrow…
If you need me to assist during the test, I will be available from 10-11am. Does that work?
Hands-on and friendly. He should call Kent; he’s obviously been a good support for Anna. The guy has just always made him feel awkward. Like he’s not a good enough husband for Anna.
There is no mention of a difficult student, though. Only one email could be interpreted as possibly being related.
Anna, I’m here if you need me. Don’t take too much on by yourself.
It could also refer to her workload.
He goes back to the list of folders. Nothing looks all that interesting. Instead he clicks on ‘Deleted’. Perhaps she didn’t want to keep certain emails, especially if they were related to problematic students? He stops himself. No. If that were the case she would want to keep them. She would be collecting evidence. Anna is sensible. He’s about to leave the deleted folder when an email address catches his eye, only because she has deleted numerous emails from that same address: [email protected]. Is it junk? He opens one of them at random.
Hi Anna, it has to be you. No one else.
The sender has mentioned her name. Surely that can’t be junk? There is no men
tion of a company at the bottom. There is no signature at all. This could be anything. Erik opens another one.
Hi Anna, I need someone who listens to me.
Huh. Erik leans back in the chair. What is this? He opens one more.
Hi Anna, I’m sick of this. How about the basement?
The basement? Which basement? The one under their house? He reads it again. It sounds like a response to another email but there is no message from Anna further down. What did Anna say to this person for him or her to send this? He looks in the ‘Sent’ folder and scrolls down but can’t find a single one from Anna to this blackadam4321.
He goes back to the deleted folder and opens one more.
Hi Anna, I can’t take it anymore. Fucking agree, will you?
He feels as if he’s stumbled onto something significant, he’s just not sure what it is. Can he bring this to the police?
He calls Officer Johansson and tells her he might have found something.
“I would prefer to meet in person,” he says.
He wants to form a connection with her. The police and him should be a team. They can’t keep leaving him in the dark.
Chapter 15 – Iris
September 2015
Iris watched as Lena pulled her fingers through her blonde, highlighted hair, and applied the same pink lip-gloss she had used for the last five years. Eventually, Lena picked up her handbag and slid it over her shoulder.
“See you next week,” she said, planting a kiss on Iris’s cheek.
“Maybe.”
Lena turned to Iris, her smile dead. “What do you mean, maybe?”
“I mean that all good things must come to an end.”
Her words were friendly but firm. This was unavoidable. She had been sucked in once more but it ended here. Lena had become too persistent, calling unnecessary meetings, which could jeopardise her position.
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