Death Comes to Strandvig

by Diane Hansen-Ingram

  Meanwhile Bent was pulling out his yellow beanie from his pocket and zipping his overcoat all the way up. With his red nose, he really looks like a little gnome. All he needs now is a fishing rod! thought Lea. Better not tell him that. Then again, he and his overinflated ego can take it!

  Lisbeth gave them both a squeeze and a hug and went back to folding tablecloths while Karsten sent them on their way with his parting shot. “Leaving already, folks? Well, here’s one for the road—”

  Lea groaned. “Goodnight Karsten!”

  Karsten looked hurt. “Don’t you want to hear it?”

  Bent adjusted his beanie and looked over at Lea. “You can’t leave the man hanging like that, Lea Mus…”

  “Oh, all right. But get on with it, will you? We haven’t got all night.”

  “Ha ha – that’s what she said last night!” shouted Johnny, still standing at the till.

  Karsten grinned. “Okay, why do the people of Aarhus walk in the middle of the road?”

  John’s throaty voice echoed around the room. “Life is short, life is short, think very carefully before you throw it away…”

  Lea shook her head and waved the envelopes at Bent. “I’m not hanging around for this, Bent, I need to get these posted. See you all later!”

  Karsten tried to stop her leaving. “Hold on, Lea, my love. You haven’t heard the punchline yet!”

  Lea sighed. “Karsten, I know the punchline. We all know the punchline. We’ve heard it a thousand—”

  “They walk in the middle of the road because they’re scared of the wild flowers in the verge! Ho ho!”

  Lea covered her eyes with one hand. “Ugh. Let’s go, Bent. Quick! Before he has the chance to think of another. Goodnight all!”

  CHAPTER 14

  The Strandhøj car park was now deserted apart from the hotel minivan and the ten black Raleigh guest bikes that stood neatly side-by-side under the hotel carport. Sparkling with hard frost. Lea gave Bent a quick squeeze and then fumbled with her bike lock. “I need to drop off these two letters on my way home – they’re both on that street beside the riding club, so I’ll see you down at the Vikings tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure you don’t want me to cycle with you, Lea Mus?”

  Lea looked up and stared at him. “Cycle with me?”

  “Well, it’s very dark.”

  “Bent, it’s dark here by three o’clock in the afternoon. I have regulation bike lights and I know how to use them!”

  “And it’s very late, Lea Mus.”

  “Yes, I know. But it won’t take me long. Besides, it’s in the opposite direction to you.”

  “I know, Lea Mus. But I don’t mind.”

  “Bent, I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m a big girl, too, remember?”

  “I know, I know. But it would be nice if you had a good, strong man to look after you, Lea Mus.”

  Lea didn’t move for a second, then straightened up. “Bent, would you mind not calling me ‘Lea Mus’?”

  “But I thought you liked it?”

  Lea looked down, started to fumble with her keys and sighed loudly, “Well, I just don’t like it so much anymore.” She looked up at him, “Honestly, Bent. I’m not thirteen – I passed the thirty mark long ago! Do you mind?” Yes, this year things were going to be different. She was a big girl. She would not allow herself to be walked over. Or bake cupcakes! Or let other people make decisions for her. It had to stop!

  Bent looked down at his shoes. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll try and remember.”

  He shuffled his feet and made black marks on the shiny white tarmac. He decided to try again. “It was good to see Mads again.”

  Lea was now fully engaged in brushing off some thick frost from her bike saddle and refused to look up.

  “He seems to be on top form. He always was a good looking lad and now he’s a handsome man.”

  Continued silence from Lea. Bent decided not to push it any further. “Oh, well, safe home, then, sweetheart. Sweet dreams!”

  He watched Lea sprint away down the coastal road. She didn’t look back. What on earth has got into the lassie? He looked around the deserted car park, sighed deeply and pulled a package out of his pocket.

  CHAPTER 15

  Lea kept her head down on the coastal road. It really was the coldest night of the New Year. Anyway, dropping the letters off should only take a few extra minutes each way and she could already see a faint glow up ahead. She thought of Ida – young, sweet Ida – and hoped that she had managed to get home safely. She imagined Ida in her pyjamas and fluffy socks, all tucked up at home in bed, surrounded by a collection of well-hugged, snuggly rabbits. No scratch that. Ida was also a big girl. In reality Ida was more likely to be sitting in her darkened bedroom with her iPhone, texting. Texting with...Gustav? It hadn’t really crossed her mind before, but now she thought about it, Lisbeth might be on to something. Was he smitten with Ida? True enough, Gustav had been acting strangely the past few weeks. But he wasn’t normally so sullen, so downright rude. Tonight had been really out of character. A lovestruck teenager, maybe that’s what’s up with him?

  Come to think of it, what was up with everyone tonight? If she didn’t know better, she would have put it down to a full moon. But the Moonlight Bathe was next week... Ugh! Cupcakes! Damn that Holy Helle! Why didn’t I speak up for myself this morning? When have I ever, ever mentioned a passion for baking cupcakes? I am so tired of being a doormat!

  The Moonlight Bathe! The close encounter with Mads had pushed Kenneth and Stig’s conversation right to the very back of her mind. What was all that about? Kenneth had literally been on the edge of his seat. Should she mention it? Oh, hi Kenneth! Was just wondering if you’d like to share with me why you were handing over wads of money to Stig… Um, no. And she wouldn’t mention it to Bent. He was in her bad books right now. She was a big girl, wasn’t she? There was a rumbling noise behind her and a lorry thundered past, bringing with it a blast of icy air. Brrrrrrr! Suddenly she wasn’t so sure. Oh, to be tucked up at home, surrounded by cuddly bunnies!

  Lea regretted not putting on her hat and gloves back at the hotel car park, but at that point she had still been flushed (and sizzling) from her close encounter with Mads. And she had been desperate for a quick getaway from Bent. He was another one. What on earth had gotten into him tonight? Why didn’t he tell her that Mads was back in town? Bent of all people should have warned her. He was supposed to be her friend. And now Bent was suddenly all interested in her love life. Or lack thereof... Aaaaargh! Bloody men!

  The owner of the riding club lived above the stables and the yellow lights coming from the riding club paddock were a welcoming sight. She’d turn off the road in a minute’s time. Lea kept pedalling, reached into her handbag, which was squashed into the front basket, and pulled out a glove. The first glove went on okay, with a bit of help from her teeth. The second one...didn’t. Lea had a surreal out-of-body experience and saw the whole thing in slow motion. She lost her balance, one foot slipped and the other jammed on the pedal, braking hard. Too hard. The bike swerved, began to topple and two excruciatingly slow seconds later Lea was lying on the cycle path with the bike on top of her.

  Bugger! Don’t cry! Lea lay on the path, breathing heavily. Don’t cry! She rolled over and lay flat, listening. Not a sound from the road, no cars or passers-by. No, she wouldn’t cry, she was past crying. She was fuming! She stood up slowly, swearing like a sailor under her breath and looked up and down the coastal road. Still no-one around and no activity from the riding club. Thank goodness for that, the last thing she needed right now was a witness to her own stupidity. Lea picked up her bike and inspected it. She couldn’t see any obvious damage, but then again, the only light provided on the bike path came from the moon.

  There was a blinking light beside her. Damn! Her telephone must have jettisoned from her handbag at the same time as she had jettisoned from her bike. Oh well, at least it was lying face upwards. She picked it up and checked it for damage. She could hear it
ringing. Ugh! She had pressed the call button by mistake and it was calling the last person on the list. Bent. The very last person she wanted to see right now. She’d never hear the end of it. “I told you I would cycle with you, Lea Mus. It was very dark and cold. You really do need a big, strong man to look after you, Lea Mus.” Bla, bla, bla. Before she could stop the call, it went to his answerphone. “Well hullo there, ladies! You’ve come to the right place! Bent Bang at your service. I’m busy right now, but leave a messa—” Hmph! So much for him being there if she needed help. Not that she wanted his help right now, just the opposite. “I’m busy right now…”

  God knows what he was up to. He was probably ‘busy’ with one of his many lady friends. How the heck does he do it? And at his age? She switched off her phone and threw it back into her handbag. One of the water bottles had rolled on to the pavement and the sad remains of the half-eaten salmon sandwich were spread beside it. Lea retrieved the water bottle, but decided to leave the bread and cucumber for the birds’ breakfast.

  Lea wanted to sob but took a couple of deep breaths. Oh to be in a warm, cosy bed, surrounded by fluffy rabbits! She decided to pull herself together and took a swig of the water left in the bottle. But her hands were shaking and most of it missed her mouth and dribbled down her neck. She bent over, choking and noticed that her whole right side, including her coat and black jeans were now white with frost. Bloody hell, what a right state I’m in! She dusted herself off using the offending glove and cursed again.

  “Life is short, life is short, think very carefully before you throw it away…”

  To hell with water, she could really use a medicinal whisky. (Even though she didn’t drink whisky.) The image of Mads, waiting for her, swinging a chilled bottle of white, suddenly popped into her mind. Now she was livid. That conceited over-confident swine. Why on earth shouldn’t I have that drink with him? And that was my fridge! She could feel the heat rising inside of her again. I’m a grown woman who can look after herself. “You know where to find me. Day or night, Lea.” I’ll give him “day or night, Lea”. I’ll go and knock on his damn door right now. I’ll have that drink and then leave. Cool as a cucumber. That’ll show him!

  She picked up her bike, threw the water bottle into her basket and wrapped her scarf around her neck three times. She limped across the coastal road, pushing her bike in front of her, cursing under her breath. And headed south towards the Kayak Club.

  CHAPTER 16

  The journey down to the Kayak Club had only taken a couple of minutes but felt like an eternity. Lea’s rage quickly turned to a slow simmer. And she wasn’t quite so confident by the time she reached the driveway of the Kayak Club. But by now her right elbow was beginning to ache from the fall and her whole body was freezing. She desperately wanted to warm up – and couldn’t care less where that might be. Preferably with a large mug of hot tea rather than a chilled glass of Mad’s cheap supermarket plonk.

  Two or three cars had passed by, but otherwise there was no sound, apart from the hum of the flickering lamppost and the crunch of her long winter boots on the gravel. Lea leant her bike up against the Kayak Club wall and didn’t bother to lock it. She fought for a second with her handbag and wrenched it out of the front basket. Breathe! She shook her hair back and rang the doorbell. Riiiiiiiiiiing. No reply. Riiiiiiiiiiing. Still no reply. What the..? She took a step back from the door and glanced left and right, up and down. All the lights were off. Riiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiing. She felt the rage returning and pulled on the front door handle, rattling it for all she was worth and knocking with her fists on the door. But the door was solid and there was no noise from within. I don’t bloody believe this!

  Lea turned around to leave and realised for the first time that the driveway was empty. That should have been a giveaway. No sign of Mad’s blue Volvo. Or any other car for that matter. Well, of all the bloody cheek… This is the last time, Mads Sørensen!

  Lea could feel tears starting to prick at the back of her eyes. Her arm was hurt, yes, but so was her pride: a mixture of cold anger and blazing hot embarrassment. She threw her handbag back into the bike basket, grabbed the bike and sped off. As she turned out of the Kayak Club driveway she glanced back and prayed that no-one – least of all Mads – had seen her.

  CHAPTER 17

  He sat in the pitch black, thinking. God, it was quiet tonight. Too quiet. He would have welcomed some noise to give him some company and drown out his own thoughts. What had just happened? He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, rocking himself forwards and backwards. It had all gone wrong. Terribly wrong. He hadn’t meant to do it. Well, not that last part. That hadn’t been the plan at all. His head pounded. It had just sort of…happened. He closed his eyes and wished his head would stop pounding. He continued to rock back and forth, the repetitive movement strangely soothing.

  Had anyone seen him? Think, now, this is important! He raised his head and stared out into the darkness. The pounding began to subside. He took a deep breath, then a swig. Had anyone actually seen him? Seen them? No, there were only a few cars on the road tonight. When you thought about it, there had been nothing to see. Nothing out of the ordinary. For God’s sake, this was Strandvig after all. Nothing ever happened in Strandvig.

  He began to feel better. He put his head in his hands again, the rocking motion was meditative. Think now! Did anyone hear? If you thought about it, there had been very little sound. Not at all like on the telly or in films. It had all been over so quickly. Strange that it had been so very easy. It was an accident after all. That’s it. It was a tragic accident. That’s all. Nothing ever happened in Strandvig so, of course, it was an accident. No-one would think otherwise.

  Anyhow there was no way back for him now. He shivered and took another sip. What’s next? Next? There was nothing to do but keep calm and ride it out. He stood up and inspected his jacket. No visible signs at all. He stretched and yawned. And put the whole episode to the back of his mind. Just a tragic accident that would be reported in Kystbladet, right along with this week’s supermarket offers. Case closed.

  CHAPTER 18

  Karin was kneading. On Fridays she always made a double batch of dough, though she wouldn’t be eating any of the bread herself. Not that she didn’t love it. Quite the opposite in fact, it seemed to love her back. It especially loved her hips and her waist and her calves and…well, all of her really. So it was either the bread or the gym. And, as Karin was quite the couch potato, she simply made do with the heavenly smell of the bread when it came out of the oven, topped off with the looks on the children’s faces when they tucked into it. Gone were the days when homemade bread or rolls were an everyday occurrence in the lives of Danish children. These days both mum and dad worked full time. And stressed out full time, whether they were delivering the kids at 7.30 am in the morning or picking them up at 5 pm. Karin thought of Little Ida. She was invariably the last child to be collected – the poor little mite – when Karin was going through her daily closedown routine of switching off all the lights and locking up.

  The smell of warm, baking bread spread a guaranteed blanket of hygge over the nursery. Especially on these winter days, when the contrast between the cold and dark outside and the cosy, candlelit glow inside was even sharper. She knew the kids would tear into the rolls and liver pâté this afternoon. With gusto, just as they did with everything they encountered, be it food, toys or insects in the playground. Ah, to be a child again! But there would be no more white bread for Karin. Only good old Danish ryebread. Rich in taste, and very definitely high in fibre. And, when you thought about it (which she tried not to too much), not such a very bad substitute after all.

  After the first rise, Karin would split the dough into two. Shape one half into rolls for the kids’ afternoon snack (and remembering to keep one back for an extra treat for Little Ida at 4.45 pm) and freeze the other half. Come Monday morning, when it was Jannick’s day to open the nursery, all he had to do was remove the bag from th
e freezer and let it defrost on the counter. Then later he’d let the kids help him, pulling off chunks of dough and roughly shaping them into rolls with their tiny fingers. A great teachable moment and exercise for their fine motor skills.

  Karin was growing very fond of young Jannick. She’d misjudged him when he first arrived at Æblegården. He looked like a big kid with his mop of curls – well, he was a big kid. Only twenty-two, still very naïve and yet to learn the ways of the world. But he’d proved to be such a valuable assistant. Karin didn’t readily hand over the keys (much less the running) of the nursery, but Jannick was intelligent, calm and compassionate. A hit with both the kids and their parents. Who were beginning to queue up with their requests for private babysitting, with Mathilde and Mathias’ parents very firmly in pole position. Yes, Jannick would be sorely missed at the end of his placement.

  Karin took her mug of Nescafé and headed into the warm laundry room. Thank goodness Stig had fixed the radiator – he could always be relied upon. She wondered what he was up to this morning – clearing the paths at Strandhøj, no doubt. She shivered – well, hopefully he was well bundled up. She filled up the basket of nappies on the shelf above the changing table and made a mental note to order more disposable wipes. She removed a load of bibs from the dryer and looked out the window to the playground. Snow was coming down heavily outside and she enjoyed folding the red towelling bibs, still warm from the dryer. She finished her coffee and checked her watch. Best get a move on, not long till kick-off.