by Thomas Enger
‘Me? Mari Lindgren?’
I nodded. He had a sudden bewildered look on his face.
‘No, she didn’t.’
I explained to him the kind of story Mari was researching.
Tom Hulsker checked his wristwatch, looked at me and said: ’Let’s go outside. I don’t have a class at the moment, and I want a cigarette.’
Before I had a chance to protest, he was already on his way outside. I followed him to the school fence, where he produced a cigarette and offered me one as well.
‘No thanks, I don’t smoke.’
‘Good choice,’ he said. ‘These things will kill you.’
He smiled. I smiled back. He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply.
‘God, you look a lot like your father when you smile. I bet you’ve heard that all your life, right?’
I hadn’t, but I just said yes. Hulsker took another drag of his cigarette then slowly let the smoke out.
‘Your father was a very good man. We went to teacher-training college together,’ Hulsker said. He shook his head, as though memories were popping into it, one by one. ‘Man, those were the days.’
I waited for him to continue.
‘Jimmy was an excellent teacher. Highly respected. He was a magnet for the ladies, too.’ He smiled and shook his head again. ‘But all that changed when he met your mother.’
I tried to imagine the man I had seen on the photographs at home, chatting to the girls, flirting, making witty comments. I couldn’t – he just wasn’t alive to me.
‘How is your mother, by the way?’
I could have said all sorts about Mum, but now was not the time. ‘Fine,’ was all I said.
‘I heard you’d moved back,’ Hulsker said. ‘I’ve thought about giving her a ring, but … I just haven’t got round to it.’
The usual excuse. You didn’t have the time, or you didn’t take the time to do what you should. It was like Mum said: some friends were only there for a certain part of your life.
‘Did you have a lot to do with him around the time he died?’ I asked.
Hulsker didn’t answer straightaway. ‘No, not as much. We’d both got families by then, and that takes up most of your time. But there was the occasional get-together, of course.’
He took another drag of the cigarette.
‘If you’d been Mari, and you wanted to find out as much as you could about my father … who would you go see, besides my mother?’
‘She didn’t talk to your mother?’
‘Not that I know of.’
Hulsker seemed to gaze at something in the distance for a moment, before turning to me again. ‘If I were Mari, I would have talked to my own mother about it.’
‘You mean she should have spoken to Cecilie?’
‘Yes. Jimmy and Cecilie were good friends back in the day. Colleagues, too.’
I thought about that for a second.
‘OK. Thanks. I have to run.’
‘Good luck finding your brother!’
57
NOW
I search for my mother’s face again, trying to make eye contact. Her chin has sunk to her chest. She gives me an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
‘What did you do after that?’ Ms Håkonsen asks.
My mother’s face sinks down, and she raises her shoulders almost all the way up to her ears. It’s as if she’s trying to make herself smaller. As if she wants to disappear into her shell, like a turtle. I feel sorry for her.
She knows what’s coming.
58
THEN
After I had talked to Hulsker, I wanted to check in on Mum. Knut lived in a complex that had been built behind the old dairy factory a few years before. It was a grey building, full of small, almost identical flats.
I pressed the buzzer and Knut quickly let me in. He was waiting for me in the hall, which smelt of dust and spices from somewhere remote.
‘Your mother is asleep,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Good.’
We stood there looking at each other for a moment. He showed me inside, and offered me a cup of tea.
‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘I’m good. I was wondering if I could ask you a question, though. Did you and Mum ever talk about … well, my dad?’
Knut cocked his head. ‘About Jimmy? Not really. Why are you asking?’
‘Just curious,’ I said. ‘Did you know him?’
Knut didn’t answer straightaway. ‘I was a few years younger than your father,’ he finally said.
‘What did people in town say about the accident?’
Knut took a step back and looked at me. ‘What’s all this about, Even? Why are you asking all these questions about Jimmy all of a sudden?’
‘I’m just trying to find out about a few things,’ I said, realising how vague I sounded. ‘So, can you remember anything?’
‘I only read what it said in the papers.’
I studied him for a few moments. ‘Where is she?’
‘In the bedroom?’
‘Can I go in?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
I didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of going into Knut’s bedroom, where he and Mum no doubt did God knows what, but I wanted to see how she was, even if she was asleep. It was a small room, so narrow there was only room for one bedside table. And it was almost impossible to get past the large wardrobe that stood at the end of the bed.
Mum had pulled the duvet up under her chin. She was sound asleep, like a child. I wondered what was going on underneath that damp forehead of hers. She must have kept a lot to herself over the years. She didn’t have a lot of friends in Solstad, and the ones from the old days in Fredheim hadn’t reached out to her when she’d come back.
I don’t know how old I was when I first realised my mother was unhappy. I remember coming home from school one day, to find her crying in the kitchen. I don’t think she heard me come in. But I could instantly tell that she hadn’t hurt herself. The reason for her tears came from some pain deep inside her. I asked her what was wrong and what had happened, but she didn’t answer, she was far too proud for that. She probably thought I wasn’t old enough to understand what would make an adult suffer like that. I guess she was right.
As I sat down on her bed and her eyes fluttered, I brushed some hair away from her eyebrows and nose and tucked it behind her ear.
‘I’ll wait in the kitchen,’ I heard Knut say behind me.
I turned and nodded. Knut didn’t shut the door.
‘Hi,’ I said in a whisper.
When Mum heard my voice, she blinked a few times, heavily at first, then faster. Then all of a sudden, she pushed herself up.
‘Tobias,’ she said. ‘Has anything happened? Is he … has he…?’
I looked at her for a moment, then shook my head.
‘There’s no news,’ I said.
She sat up straight and pulled the duvet with her. Mum had a talent for bursting into tears. Within a second, with no warning. The day I opened the letter from Norway’s Football Association, telling me that I had been selected for the under-seventeens friendlies against Malta and Italy, the tears had flowed. She was so proud. Now she was crying again.
I waited until she had calmed down a bit. She leaned over to Knut’s bedside table for a box of tissues. She pulled one out and blew her nose. Kept it in her hand as she looked at me. Her eyes were still glazed. I wondered what kind of pills Knut had given her, and if I could talk to her properly. I decided I just had to go for it. There were too many questions gnawing at me.
‘I … I just talked to Tom Hulsker at Tobias’s school,’ I said.
She blinked. ‘To Tom?’
‘We started to talk about Dad,’ I said, unsure how to go on.
‘Why?’ There was a more guarded tone to her voice now. She was fully awake.
‘I don’t know, it just happened,’ I said, and wondered if my lie was shining like a light bulb in my eyes. ‘You know that Mari was writing an article about me for the scho
ol paper, right?’
Mum nodded.
‘One of the things we talked about was … Dad – what it was like for me to come back to Fredheim and to go to a school where everyone knew who my Dad was. Stuff like that. We also talked about … what happened to him.’
Mum squinted, as if she was trying to focus on me.
‘Mari had been in contact with Tobias as well,’ I said. ‘Did he say anything about that to you?’
She shook her head.
‘So he hasn’t asked you any questions about Dad recently?’
‘Tobias? No…’ She paused, seemed to be thinking.
‘Well…’
Another pause. ‘He did ask if I knew what blood type Jimmy was.’
‘Blood type?’ I straightened up.
‘Yes, I don’t know why, but…’ Mum shrugged.
‘You didn’t ask?’
‘I guess I didn’t.’
I thought about this for a moment. ‘What actually happened that day?’ I asked.
‘What day?’
‘The day Daddy died.’
Mum gave me a questioning look. ‘Tell me you’re not serious,’ she said. ‘You want to talk about that now? When Tobias is missing?’
‘Yes,’ I said, trying to sound firm.
‘Why is that important now?’
‘I just need to know,’ I said.
Mum took a deep breath and sighed. ‘We’ve gone through it all before,’ she said.
‘Not really.’
‘I’ve got other things to think about.’
‘Sure. But…’
She pushed the duvet to one side and put her feet on the floor. She was fully dressed.
‘I’m starting to wonder if Mari maybe stumbled on something that got her killed.’
Mum turned around. Her look pierced me. ‘Stumbled over what?’
‘Something to do with Dad,’ I said. ‘And the accident.’
I didn’t even have time to react. The palm of her hand hit me square on the left cheek, so hard that my head twisted to the side. She wasn’t going to back down, either. She clearly didn’t think I would retaliate. She just stood there, glaring at me.
Then she left the room with a mad look on her face. My cheek was still stinging.
59
My mother had never laid a hand on me before, certainly not as far as I could remember. And now, when I was almost an adult, she had slapped me. She had actually slapped me!
What the fuck was that all about?
OK, my timing hadn’t been great, but did she need to slap me?
I was still bewildered when I snuck out of the bedroom and put my shoes on. Mostly I was furious. I didn’t look at Knut when I heard him coming out into the hall – I didn’t want him to see the red mark that felt like a warm cloth on my cheek. I left without saying a word.
It took me a while to calm down. I cycled around for a while, without any plan, but my cheek didn’t stop burning. I knew that my dad’s death had been difficult for her, but to slap me? Why?
I went through what I knew about the accident. Dad had blacked out and witnesses had seen the car zigzagging across the road for a few hundred metres, at high speed. Then it had careered off the road, straight into some trees.
I stopped and pulled out my phone. I wanted to find out why and how people lost consciousness all of a sudden, like my father had done. The most common cause, according to my Google search, was a sudden decrease in blood flow to the brain – often resulting from some kind of glitch in the nervous system. People could faint when they felt strong emotions, couldn’t get enough air, when they’d seen an unpleasant sight, like blood, or had stood up suddenly.
Mum had never actually told me what had happened before my Dad had passed out, and I also realised that I didn’t know where they were going that day – whether they were visiting someone or just driving around. I didn’t even know where the accident had happened, other than on a narrow road with trees on both sides.
God, what an idiot I’d been.
I rang Imo. He was on his way to Solstad, our old town, to see if Tobias somehow had turned up there. I told him about my argument with Mum, and what she’d done.
When I was finished, Imo said: ‘My God. I knew your mother had a temper on her, but…’ A short silence followed.
‘Do you know why your brother passed out that day?’ I asked. ‘I mean, you knew him better than anyone. I just wondered why something like that would happen to him.’
‘Maybe he was stressed at work or something,’ Imo said. ‘It’s a long time ago, Even. I don’t really remember. Have you heard anything from the police?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘But I have a feeling there might be bad news soon.’
Imo took a deep breath. ‘We’ll find him, champ. Try not to worry too much.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Talk later.’
I cycled back to the house, half hoping that Tobias had come home in the meantime – that I’d find him sitting in his room. In all likelihood he wouldn’t even have bothered to move the broken-down door. He would just be sitting there staring at the mess, like nothing had happened.
But he wasn’t there.
There were even more cars outside the house this time. Yngve Mork was standing by the fence, talking on his phone. He ended the conversation when he saw me, and gave me a feeble smile.
‘Hi Even.’
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Any news?’
Mork shook his head. I was about to ask him a question about the investigation, when my phone rang. It was Imo again.
‘I’ve found him!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve found your brother.’
60
NOW
Miss Håkonsen takes another sip of water. This is one of the parts of the examination I’ve been dreading the most.
‘Where did Imo find your brother?’
‘In Solstad. At Ruben’s. His best friend.’
‘And what was he doing there?’
I glance quickly at Mum. ‘Taking drugs.’
‘Drugs?’
‘Yes, he was doing drugs. Smoking weed or … whatever it was.’
‘Weed,’ the prosecutor says, as though that’s the important bit. ‘And how had your brother got himself to Solstad?’
‘After our argument the night before, he’d asked Ruben to come and pick him up.’
‘In the middle of the night?’
‘Yes. I don’t know exactly what time it was. But I’m sure you have that in your notes somewhere.’
Ms Håkonsen clearly doesn’t like my remark, but I’m too tired of all her questions to care. I’m wondering how much longer I need to be up here. A while, I reckon. We haven’t even got to Ole Hoff yet.
‘Your brother got Ruben to come and collect him, even though Ruben didn’t have a driver’s licence yet. He borrowed his father’s car, didn’t he? A man who works as a funeral agent.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I say wearily.
‘Then they drove back to Solstad.’
‘Correct.’
I had smelled weed on Tobias’s clothes from time to time, so it didn’t come as a big surprise to me that he’d been smoking at Ruben’s. What I didn’t know, was that he’d been taking other substances as well. Pills, mostly. It was when Imo found my brother that I realised what he wanted extra money for. Why he’d stolen that iPad.
I wasn’t angry about any of that, though. I was just happy he was alive and, for the time being, well.
‘Did your uncle say anything about what state Tobias was in when he found him?’
‘No. Just that he was tired – they’d been up all night.’
’So Imo’s plan was to drive Tobias home.’
‘Yes.’
‘But Yngve Mork was standing beside you when you got that phone call, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes. And he asked if he could have a word with Imo.’
61
THEN
I handed the phone to Mork. He moved away from me, but I edged towards him, making sure
I was close enough to hear what he said. My uncle was to drive Tobias straight to the police station, where my brother would be questioned.
Then something changed in Mork’s eyes, in the expression on his face. It was as if something was going on at the other end, something that startled him.
‘Imo, what’s happening?’ Mork said. He was looking straight ahead, eyes wide.
Whatever was going on, Mork’s face told me that it wasn’t good.
‘Imo…’
My uncle obviously didn’t answer, because Mork started shouting his name.
‘What the hell is going on?’ I yelled, but Mork just put a finger in his ear to block out the noise. Had they been in a car crash or something? Why wasn’t Imo saying anything?
I thought of my dad, who had driven off the road. Maybe it was hereditary – maybe Imo had passed out too. I knew that he wasn’t in perfect health with his back problems and all the medicines I’d seen in his bathroom cupboard. I wondered if history had repeated itself.
I don’t know how long I stood there in front of Mork, waiting for an answer, but then, suddenly, it appeared as if Imo came back on the line. Mork asked what had happened. I watched as he listened, nodding. I could just about hear my uncle’s voice. He was clearly agitated.
‘OK,’ Mork said. ‘Is he stable?’
Stable?
Mork continued: ‘Make sure he’s in the recovery position. Keep him calm and I’ll get the hold of the nearest ambulance. Where are you?’
Mork fired his instructions so fast I nearly didn’t hear what he said.
‘Akershus University Hospital is closest then,’ he said. ‘I’ll call and give them your number.’
Then the inspector hung up and turned towards me. He looked at me for moment and took a deep breath.
‘Even, your brother…’ He paused while he handed me back my phone. Then he sighed and said: ‘There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt and go ahead and say it. Your brother just tried to kill himself.’