‘Really?’ he said, eager to hear what she would say next.
‘We were talking about what amazing work you’ve done. We’re all so proud of you. You are a true and worthy disciple, and we see great potential in you.’
‘I’m merely doing what God has enjoined me to do. Everything is done in His service. He was the one who gave me the strength and courage to see my sins and cleanse them away.’
She patted his arm. ‘Yes, God is good to us, weak and sinful as we are. His patience and love are infinite.’
They had reached the room, and he saw that the others had already taken their seats.
‘What about your family? They weren’t able to come today either?’ Leonora gave him a sympathetic look. Lasse grimaced and shook his head.
‘The family is important to God. What God has joined shall not be torn asunder. A wife should share her husband’s life, and his faith in God. But you’ll see – sooner or later she’ll discover what a beautiful soul God has found in you. And she’ll see that He has made you whole.’
‘I’m sure she will. She just needs a little time,’ Lasse murmured. He noticed the metallic taste of anger in his mouth, but he forced himself to push aside any negative thoughts. Instead, he silently repeated his mantra: light and love. That was what he was: light and love. He just needed to make Terese understand.
‘Do we have to?’ Marta was putting on clean clothes after taking a shower to wash off the stink of the stable. ‘Couldn’t we just stay home and do what other people do on a Friday night? Sit in front of the TV and eat tacos?’
‘We have no choice, and you know it,’ said Jonas.
‘But why do we always have to eat dinner with them on Friday? Have you ever stopped to think about it? Why can’t we have Sunday dinner together instead, like other people who visit their parents and parents-in-law?’ She buttoned her blouse and combed her hair as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom.
‘How many times have we had this conversation? You know that on the weekends we’re gone so often attending competitions, so Friday night is the only time that works. Why do you keep asking questions when you already know the answers?’
Marta heard the shrill tone creep into Jonas’s voice. That always happened whenever he was annoyed. Of course she already knew the answers. She just didn’t understand why they always had to think of Helga and Einar.
‘But none of us finds it pleasant. I think we’d all feel relieved if we put an end to these dinners. It’s just that no one dares say anything,’ she went on as she sat down to pull on an extra pair of tights. It was always so cold in Einar and Helga’s house. Jonas’s father was stingy and always tried to save on electricity. She put on a jumper over her blouse. Otherwise she’d freeze to death before dessert was served.
‘Molly doesn’t like having dinner there either. How long do you think we can force her to go before she rebels?’
‘No teenager enjoys family dinners. But she’s just going to have to come with us. That’s not asking too much, is it?’
Marta paused to study him in the mirror. He was even more handsome than when they first met. Back then he was shy and lanky, with acne marring his face. But she had seen something else beneath his insecure demeanour, something that she recognized. And with time, and her help, his insecurity had vanished. Now he was a self-confident, strong, and muscular man. And after all these years he could still make her tremble with longing.
Everything they shared kept their desire alive, and now she felt it awaken as it had so many times before. Quickly she removed her tights and knickers but kept on her blouse and jumper. She went over to him and unbuttoned the jeans he had just put on. Without a word he let her take them off, and she saw that he was already aroused. Firmly she pressed him down on to the bed and swiftly mounted him. He came, fast and hard, his back arched. She wiped several drops of sweat from his brow and slipped off him. Their eyes met in the mirror as she turned her back to put her knickers and tights back on.
Fifteen minutes later they were standing in the front hall of Helga and Einar’s home. Molly stood behind them, grumbling to herself. Just as they had predicted, she had protested loudly about spending yet another Friday night with her grandparents. Her friends had evidently planned something much more fun for the evening, and her life would be ruined if she didn’t get to join them. But Jonas had refused to budge, and Marta had stayed out of it entirely.
‘Welcome,’ said Helga. Enticing aromas came from the kitchen, and Marta noticed her stomach growling. That was the only good thing about having Friday dinner with her parents-in-law: Helga’s fabulous food.
‘We’re having roast pork.’ Helga stood on tiptoe to kiss her son on the cheek. Marta gave her an awkward hug.
‘Would you go and get your father?’ said Helga to Jonas.
‘Sure,’ said Jonas and headed upstairs.
Marta could hear the murmur of voices above, and then the sound of something heavy being moved towards the stairs. They had been given funding to build a wheelchair ramp, but it required a certain strength to manoeuvre Einar. By this time the sound of the wheelchair coming down the ramp was familiar to all of them. Marta could hardly remember how Einar had looked before his legs were amputated. In the past she’d always thought of him as a big, angry bull. Now he looked more like a fat toad sliding down the stairs.
‘Everybody’s here, as usual,’ he said, squinting his eyes. ‘Come and give your grandfather a kiss.’
Molly reluctantly went over to kiss him on the cheek.
‘Okay, time to eat or the food will get cold,’ said Helga, motioning for them to come into the kitchen where dinner was served.
Jonas pushed his father’s wheelchair over to the table, and then they all sat down without saying a word.
‘So, no jump racing tomorrow, is that right?’ said Einar after a while.
Marta noticed a nasty glint in his eyes and knew he had mentioned the topic out of sheer spite. Molly sighed loudly, and Jonas gave his father a warning look.
‘After everything that’s happened, we didn’t think it would be right for her to go,’ he said, reaching for the bowl of potatoes.’
‘No, I can see you’d think that.’ Einar glared at his son, who served his father some potatoes before helping himself.
‘So how’s it going? Have the police made any progress?’ asked Helga. She served everyone slices of pork from a big platter before she took her place at the table.
‘Gösta came to see me today, and he asked about the break-in,’ said Jonas.
Marta stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about that?’
Jonas shrugged. ‘It was no big deal. But they found traces of ketamine when they did the autopsy on Victoria, and Gösta wanted to know what sort of things were stolen from the clinic.’
‘Good thing you reported it to the police.’ Marta lowered her gaze. She hated not being in full control of everything that went on. The fact that Jonas hadn’t told her about Gösta’s visit filled her with silent rage. They would have to talk about this later when they were alone.
‘Too bad about the girl,’ said Einar, sticking a big piece of pork in his mouth. Gravy trickled down his chin. ‘She was pretty, what little I saw of her. You keep me imprisoned upstairs, and I have nothing to look at. This old lady is the only person I get to see nowadays.’ He laughed, pointing to Helga.
‘Do we have to talk about Victoria?’ Molly was poking at her food, and Marta tried to remember when she’d last seen her daughter eat a proper meal. But that was probably all due to the usual teenage worries about weight. No doubt it would pass.
‘Molly found the old Volkswagen Beetle out in the barn,’ said Jonas, wanting to change the subject. ‘She’d like to have it. I was thinking of fixing it up so it’ll be ready when she gets her driver’s licence.’ He winked at Molly, who was pushing the green beans around on her plate.
‘Should she be allowed out there? She might hurt herself,’ said Einar, shoving an
other bite into his mouth. The trail of gravy was still visible on his chin.
‘You should really clean up that barn.’ Helga got up to refill the platter. ‘Get rid of all that old junk and rubbish.’
‘I want it to stay the way it is,’ said Einar. ‘That place has lots of memories for me. Good memories. And you can hear for yourself, Helga, that Jonas is going to create new memories.’
‘But why would Molly want an old Beetle like that?’ Helga placed the platter back on the table and sat down again.
‘It’s going to be great. Super cool! Nobody else will have a car like that.’ Molly’s eyes shone.
‘I agree. It could be great,’ said Jonas, helping himself to a third portion. Marta knew that he loved his mother’s cooking, and maybe that was the main reason they had to drag themselves over here every Friday.
‘So do you remember how to do it? How to work on cars?’ asked Einar.
Marta could almost picture the memories tumbling around in his head. Memories from a time when he’d been a bull and not a toad.
‘I’m sure it’s still all in my fingertips. I worked on enough cars with you that I think I can remember how to do it.’ Jonas exchanged a glance with his father.
‘Right. I suppose there’s something to be said for handing down knowledge and interests from father to son.’ Einar raised his wine glass. ‘Let’s drink a toast to Persson senior and son, and to our shared interests. And congratulations, little lady. You’re about to get yourself a new car.’
Molly raised her glass of Coke to join in the toast. She was beaming with joy at the thought of the car.
‘Just be careful,’ said Helga. ‘Accidents can happen so easily. You should be glad you’ve had such good fortune so far, but don’t tempt fate.’
‘Why do you always have to be such a prophet of doom.’ Einar’s cheeks were flushed from the wine. He turned to look at the others. ‘It’s always been like this. I have all the ideas and visions, while my dear wife just moans and groans and sees nothing but problems. I don’t think you’ve ever dared live life to the fullest, even for an instant. Have you, Helga? Have you ever lived? Or have you always been so bloody scared that you’ve merely steeled yourself and tried to drag the rest of us down with your fears?’
He was slurring his words, and Marta suspected that he’d already had a few drinks before coming downstairs. That too was par for the course at Friday dinner with her parents-in-law.
‘I’ve done the best I could. And it hasn’t always been easy,’ said Helga. She got up and began to clear the table. Marta saw that her hands were shaking. Helga had always been the nervous type.
‘You’ve had nothing but good fortune. You got a much better husband than you deserved. And I should get a medal for putting up with you all these years. I don’t know what I was thinking. There were plenty of girls chasing me, but I suppose I thought you had nice big hips that would be good for birthing children. And then you barely managed to do it even once. Skål!’ Einar again raised his glass in a toast.
Marta studied her nails. She wasn’t really bothered by his speech. She’d witnessed this drama too many times before. Even Helga usually paid no attention to Einar’s drunken tirades, but tonight something was different. Suddenly she picked up a saucepan and flung it with all her might into the sink, making the water splash over the side. Then Helga slowly turned around. She kept her voice low, almost a whisper. But as they sat there in shocked silence, they couldn’t help hearing the words she spoke.
‘I. Can’t. Stand. This. Any. More.’
‘Hello?’ Patrik stepped into the front hall. He was still in a bad mood after the trip to Göteborg, and nothing on the drive home had been able to divert his thoughts. The fact that Erica had mentioned his mother might have brought along a male friend didn’t make the situation any better.
‘Hello!’ Kristina called cheerfully from the kitchen. Patrik glanced around suspiciously. For a moment he thought he must have entered the wrong house. Everything looked so neat and clean.
‘Whoa,’ said Erica, her eyes wide as she too stood in the doorway. She didn’t sound entirely happy with the transformation.
‘Did we hire a cleaning service?’ asked Patrik. He hadn’t realized the hall floor could look so clean, without a trace of dirt or clutter. It practically gleamed, and all the shoes were nicely lined up in the shoe rack, which was usually never used. Normally the shoes were tossed in a big pile on the floor.
‘No. Just the firm of Hedström and Zetterlund,’ said Kristina in the same cheerful voice as she appeared from the kitchen.
‘Zetterlund?’ said Patrik, though he already suspected who it might be.
‘Hi! My name’s Gunnar.’ A man emerged from the living room, holding out his hand. As Patrik studied him, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Erica was giving him an amused look. He shook hands with the man, who seemed a bit too enthusiastic, pumping his hand up and down.
‘What a pleasant home you have, and such amazing children! That little lady of yours isn’t easily fooled. She has a good head on her shoulders. And I can see that you have your hands full with those two little rascals, but they’re so charming that they probably get away with anything. Am I right?’ He continued to shake hands with Patrik, who managed a strained smile.
‘Yes, they’re great,’ he said, attempting to pull his hand away. After another few seconds Gunnar finally released his grip.
‘I assumed you’d be hungry, so I’ve made dinner,’ said Kristina, going back into the kitchen. ‘I’ve also done a couple of loads of laundry, and I asked Gunnar to bring along his toolbox. He has fixed a few things you didn’t have time for, Patrik.’
Only now did Patrik notice that the bathroom door, which had been hanging crooked on its hinges for a while – getting on for two years in fact – was now properly screwed into place. He wondered what other things in his house Mr Fix-it had worked on. He had to admit he felt a bit annoyed. He had planned on fixing the door. It was on his To-do list. He just hadn’t got around to it yet.
‘It was no trouble,’ said Gunnar. ‘I used to own a construction company, so it took me no time at all. The trick is to deal with things at once so they don’t start piling up.’
Patrik gave him another strained smile. ‘Hmm … Thanks. I really appreciate it.’
‘I know it’s not easy for young people to find time for everything. What with taking care of the children, going to work, and all the daily chores, as well as maintaining the house. And there’s always a lot to do with older homes. But this is a fine house, it certainly is. In those days, they knew how to build things right. Not like the houses today that are thrown together in a couple of weeks, and then people wonder why they have mould and water damage. The old building techniques have been forgotten.’ Gunnar shook his head, and Patrik seized the opportunity to retreat to the kitchen where Kristina was standing by the cooker, having an intense conversation with Erica. Feeling a hint of spiteful glee, Patrik noticed that his beloved wife was also looking a bit strained as she tried to smile.
‘I know that you and Patrik have a lot on your minds,’ said Kristina. ‘It’s not easy to combine a career with raising children, and your generation has managed to persuade yourselves that you can do it all. But the most important thing for a woman – and don’t take this the wrong way, Erica, I’m telling you this with the best of intentions – is to prioritize your children and your home. You may laugh at those of us who were housewives, but it was very satisfying to let the children stay home instead of shoving them off to some day-care centre. And they grew up in a clean and orderly setting. I’m not a believer in the idea that it’s okay to ignore the dirt in the corners. I’m sure that’s why children today have so many strange allergies, because people don’t clean their homes any more. And you can’t underestimate the importance of giving children home-cooked, nutritious meals. And when your husband comes home – and Patrik has a very responsible job – it’s only right that he should come home to a cle
an and peaceful place and be served a proper meal. Not those awful ready-meals loaded with additives and preservatives that I found in your freezer. And I must say …’
Patrik listened with interest, wondering how his mother even managed to take a breath as she rattled off this speech. He saw Erica gritting her teeth, and his glee changed to sympathy.
‘We just do things a little differently, Mamma,’ he interrupted her. ‘And that doesn’t mean it’s worse. You did an amazing job with our family, but Erica and I have chosen to share the responsibility for our children and home, and her career is just as important as mine. Although I admit that sometimes I get lazy and let her take on a bigger burden, but I’m trying to be better about that. So if there’s anyone you want to criticize, it should be me, because Erica works really hard to make everything function. And we’re doing just fine. There may be a little dirt in the corners, and occasionally the laundry basket overflows, and yes, we do eat frozen fish sticks, blood pudding, and Scans meatballs, but nobody has died from that yet.’ He went over and kissed Erica on the cheek. ‘But we’re incredibly grateful for your help, and for serving us home-cooked meals once in a while. That’s something we appreciate even more after eating frozen foods.’
He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek too. The last thing he wanted was to make her unhappy. They wouldn’t be able to get by without her help, and he loved his mother. But this was their home, his and Erica’s, and it was important for Kristina to understand that.
‘Well, it wasn’t my intention to criticize. I just wanted to give you some good advice that might help,’ she said, and she didn’t seem particularly upset.
‘So tell us about your boyfriend,’ said Patrik, amused to see his mother blush. At the same time he found it a little strange. Or rather, to be honest, very strange.
‘Well, you see …’ Kristina began. Patrik took a deep breath and steeled himself. His mother had a boyfriend. He glanced over at Erica, who silently blew him a kiss.
Terese could hardly sit still. The boys were making such a row that she almost jumped up to yell at them, but she restrained herself. It wasn’t their fault that she was going mad with worry.
The Ice Child Page 17