Fire, page 12
‘Please, you two. Don’t start,’ Mum says.
Vanessa tries to calm down. Reaches for a cloth and wipes the sink surround slowly and thoroughly. It doesn’t help much.
‘I’d put my money on suicide,’ Nicke says, swallowing the rest of the beer noisily and barely suppressing a burp. ‘Everyone knows that psychologists have a hell of a lot of problems. Which is why they pick the job.’
‘I’m not sure that has to be the case,’ Mum says vaguely.
Vanessa throws the cloth into the sink.
‘And that must be another great thing about being you,’ she says. ‘Being able to judge people without waiting for stuff like evidence. Everyone neatly pigeonholed, right?’
She felt sure, actually hoped, that Nicke would start a shouting match. That it would finally come to open warfare between them. But Nicke only smiles and looks superior.
‘I don’t prejudge anyone but I’ve learned something about how people’s minds tick,’ he says. ‘Like when I spotted straight away that it wouldn’t work out for you and Wille.’
This silences Vanessa. And she gazes at her mother.
‘Nessa, I haven’t said a word. I promise you.’
‘Then how does he know?’
Nicke waves his left hand about in a meaningful way, then points to his ring finger.
Vanessa looks at her own ring finger. At the thin line of pale skin showing where the summer sun has not reached. Of course. Now she sees just how obvious it is.
Perhaps Linnéa noticed it when they met at the cemetery. And perhaps didn’t read Vanessa’s mind.
‘So next time you’d do well to listen to me and Jannike.’
‘Oh, yes, please, why don’t you give me loads of advice about relationships,’ Vanessa sneers. ‘You’re such a terrific role model.’
‘I can’t bear another one of your slanging matches!’ Mum says.
‘Join the fucking crowd,’ Vanessa says.
Mum spreads her arms in a resigned gesture and goes into the living room. Some crap TV programme starts up a few seconds later. Nicke grins arrogantly at Vanessa and also leaves the kitchen.
Fury is growing stronger inside her, but she doesn’t dare let it out this time. She must think. Sort out her emotions. Decide what to do about her secret knowledge. Make up her mind, once and for all.
Vanessa goes to her room. Her mobile pings. It’s a text from Evelina.
Nessie, how are things? Call me!!!
Vanessa is glad that Evelina and Michelle are rooting for her. Truly, she is. But ever since she told them about Wille this morning, they’ve been like two small, caring leeches.
‘Still hoping he’ll call, or what?’
Vanessa turns round. Nicke stands in the doorway.
‘Why don’t you just fuck off, you creep.’
Nicke steps into the room and comes up close.
‘You’d better watch it,’ he says.
Vanessa’s instinct tells her to back away, but she doesn’t want to give him the pleasure. She crosses her arms.
‘You’re the one who should watch it,’ she says quietly. ‘I know what you’ve been up to.’
He snorts and a stale gust of beer wafts over her face.
‘So what’s that you reckon you know?’
Back in the living room, the audience is applauding wildly. Nicke is so close that his broad-shouldered body fills Vanessa’s field of vision. She has to look up to meet his eyes.
‘I saw you. In the police car. Your colleague was very obliging. What did you think, was she good at what she was doing?’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
But Nicke’s eyes look shifty.
‘That wasn’t the first time, was it? And not the last time either, I bet. Was that the reason you were so late back from work tonight?’
And she can see from his expression that she has hit the bull’s eye. His face goes bright red and she senses his body heat climbing several degrees.
‘You’re such a fucking repulsive creep,’ she says and her voice cracks. ‘How can you do this to Mum?’
The look in Nicke’s eye changes. He could be hesitating about something.
An orchestra starts playing in the TV programme. Cheerful trumpets and trombones. Then Nicke makes a decision.
‘Whatever, it doesn’t matter. You can’t prove a thing. Why should Jannike believe you? She knows you’re capable of dreaming up any old crap to ruin what’s between us.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Vanessa says.
And wishes that she had sounded more convincing. Stronger.
‘My advice to you is, forget what you saw,’ Nicke tells her. ‘If you don’t, you’ll be the one who gets it in the neck. In this family, you’ve used up any trust we’ve had in you. Got that? You little slag.’
He turns to leave, but stops in mid-step.
Mum is standing in the doorway, still and silent and deadly pale. Her wide-open eyes have an empty look, as if all the life has seeped out of her.
‘Jannike—’
‘Oh, my God,’ Mum says. ‘I feel such a bloody idiot.’
‘Jannike, please calm down. She’s just trying to ruin—’
‘I should’ve known,’ Mum whispers tonelessly, looking fixedly at the floor.
‘You can’t mean that you believe her?’
Nicke is speaking so loudly that the sound bounces off the walls.
Mum looks up at Nicke and there is determination in her eyes.
‘Get out!’
‘Fuck it … you can’t take her side!’ Nicke bellows.
In the room next door, Melvin wakes up and starts calling out.
Vanessa would like to go to him, but that would mean having to push past Mum and Nicke. She doesn’t dare to move an inch, hardly even to breathe.
‘How can you turn against me like this?’ Nicke shouts.
Melvin is crying loudly by now.
‘I am going to Melvin,’ Mum says evenly. ‘And when I come back out, I don’t want you to be in this flat.’
‘Is that so? And exactly where do you think I should bugger off to?’
‘I’m sure you’ll find somewhere to sleep. Or has Paula got someone around to be unfaithful to as well? I’m right, you’re screwing Paula, aren’t you?’
Nicke is speechless.
Mum vanishes from the doorway and Vanessa hears her go into Melvin’s room, shush him and mumble soothingly.
Nicke glances at Vanessa and his eyes flash with anger.
‘You’ll regret this,’ he says and turns to go.
Vanessa stands still and takes in the picture of his retreating back. She stays there, listening, until the front door slams shut.
She knows very well that his leaving is far from a solution and that the next stage will mean that they have to share the care of Melvin and deal with every other kind of hellish new problems.
But, for now, everything feels so bloody good.
17
Anna-Karin sits in Nicolaus’s stairwell and waits. The automatic light has gone off but she hasn’t got the energy to get up and switch it on one more time. After the gravedigging, muscles she didn’t know she had are hurting.
She got here too early, of course. She still isn’t used to living in the middle of town, so close to everywhere. Besides, she was far too restless to stay at home. Nicolaus hasn’t answered his phone all day.
She considers ringing his doorbell again, but she has done that three times already. She has opened the letterbox and listened into the flat three times, too. The silence in there makes her nervous. What if Nicolaus is crouching in the darkness, driven mad by his memories? What if he has done something stupid? Hurt himself?
At last, the door to the street opens. Minoo switches the light on, starts when she catches sight of Anna-Karin.
‘Christ! You scared me,’ she says.
‘I’m sorry.’
Minoo takes the key from her pocket and twirls it in her hand.
‘I’ve rung the doorbell lots of times,’ Anna-Karin tells her.
‘It feels so totally wrong just going in,’ Minoo says. ‘But we have to.’
She unlocks the door.
There is a piece of junkmail on the doormat, a flyer about something called Positive Engelsfors. The air is hot and stale.
Anna-Karin switches on the ceiling light. The venetian blinds are closed. On the windowsill the fern looks droopy.
‘Nicolaus?’ she calls out tentatively just as Minoo shuts the front door behind them.
No reply. The bathroom door is standing slightly open. Anna-Karin looks inside. No one. Minoo goes to the kitchen and comes back. Shakes her head. They look at the closed bedroom door.
‘Nicolaus?’ Minoo calls in her turn.
Silence.
Anna-Karin takes a few steps forward and knocks. Waits. No response. She pushes the handle down, opens the door.
The air is even staler in there and smells of unwashed bed linen. Anna-Karin gropes around for the light switch.
A shapeless black bulk lies on the floor next to the bed. Anna-Karin nearly screams before she realises it is Nicolaus’s winter coat.
The wardrobe is open. Someone has pulled at the clothes and dragged them out. Several shelves are empty.
Minoo walks over to the bed and picks up a white envelope placed on the pillow.
‘Please, could you let me …?’ Anna-Karin asks.
Minoo hands her the envelope and Anna-Karin rips it open with her index finger. Inside is a lined sheet torn from a notepad.
Dear children,
I must leave now. My reasons will stay secret for the time being. I can only assure you that one day you will understand why I have to go.
Take good care of the silver crucifix. It is charged with powerful magic that will protect you. I have always thought that it serves many functions. Perhaps it will be of use to you.
I have paid another year’s rent for this residence. Please use it as you see fit. You will find cash to cover any other expenditure inside the mattress.
I beg you to believe me when I tell you that I have your best interests in mind when I leave Engelsfors. It would be selfish of me to remain.
There are difficult times ahead. You must stay together. Trust one other. And put your trust in Matilda and the Book of Patterns.
I hope and believe that I will return.
Ever yours, faithfully,
N.E.
Anna-Karin lowers the sheet of paper.
‘What does it say?’ Minoo asks.
Anna-Karin’s head is thumping.
‘What does it say?’ Minoo repeats.
Anna-Karin hands her the letter.
Minoo reads and, when she has finished, turns the sheet of paper over as if looking for something more.
‘But he can’t simply leave like this …’ Anna-Karin says, feeling her throat constrict.
Minoo glances knowingly at her and Anna-Karin realises, yes, he can do that. He just has.
She walks back into the living room. Stops in front of the silver crucifix on the wall and looks at it. Minoo comes along to stand next to her.
‘I might phone Ida,’ Minoo suggests. ‘Ask her to try to find him with the pendulum.’
‘No, it’s pointless,’ Anna-Karin replies. ‘He’ll have got out of town already. Besides, he doesn’t want us to find him.’
‘Do you believe all he wrote? Like the bit about getting out of here for our sake?’
‘Do you believe him?’
They look at each other.
‘Yes, I do,’ Minoo says. ‘I believe him.’
Difficult times ahead.
Anna-Karin notices the big, black umbrella in the corner by the front door. That was the umbrella Nicolaus had held over them both that evening last autumn, only a few hours after Rebecka’s death.
Anna-Karin remembers the sound of rain hammering against the umbrella. How safe she felt with Nicolaus.
Now he has disappeared. The Chosen Ones can only look to each other now.
18
The psychologists’ waiting room at the Child and Adolescent Mental Health clinic shouts institutional values at you. We keep an eye on you! We watch every step you take!
There are times when Linnéa wonders if she ever will be shot of this place. How she despises those wimps who whine about their parents acting like prison guards. At least they don’t have to put their private life on show week after week and have it turned inside out just to prove that they’re not on dope or about to have a nervous breakdown. If they break any rules, they get … what? A row with Mum and Dad? But if Linnéa is caught out in the wrong, she will lose her flat and what little freedom she has.
Today, Diana should have come on one of her so-called ‘home visits’. As if the whole idea was about sharing a nice cuppa, and not about control. But she was off with food poisoning and cancelled at the last minute.
Linnéa wouldn’t mind in the slightest if Jakob cancelled today, too.
Her need to talk about Vanessa is so strong that she is unsure if she will be able to stop herself. And she doesn’t want to talk to Jakob about Vanessa, just as she doesn’t want to tell him too much about Elias. She would rather keep harping on her father and her childhood and her dead mother, however long the therapy takes.
She treasures Vanessa and Elias, her only precious possessions, though they are stinging, painful wounds as well.
The door to one of the offices opens and Jakob comes out.
‘Hi, Linnéa.’
He holds out his hand and Linnéa takes it in hers.
The grief that floods her is new and raw. It feels as if she’s been thrown back to the time just after Elias’s death. But this is not her grief. It is Jakob’s.
… I can’t cope with this session, I should’ve cancelled …
She pulls her hand back, but Jakob’s emotions and thoughts still resound in her mind.
She follows him into the office and quickly sits down, trying to hide how shaken she is.
‘How was your first week back at school?’ Jakob asks.
‘Terrific.’
The irony seems to pass Jakob by. He simply nods.
‘Any recurrence of your panic attacks?’
‘No, not for a while now.’
He doesn’t reply and Linnéa cautiously sends a probe into his thoughts to find out if he thinks she is lying.
… this is going to be too much for me … Christ, how am I to help these kids, I should’ve called in sick …
Linnéa observes his face. Pale under his tan. She notes his red-rimmed eyes. Notes the way he keeps picking at a loose thread in the hem of his shorts.
… why didn’t I understand how strongly this would affect me? I’m a bloody psychologist after all … she is dead … she really is dead …
‘How do you feel?’ Linnéa asks.
‘Oh, fine. Perhaps a little tired.’
Jakob looks guilty, as if he’s been found out. She doesn’t have to probe for his next thought, because it comes to her anyway.
… fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s seeing straight through me, it’s like in all these nightmares when they know exactly what I’m thinking …
‘Why do you want to know how I feel?’ he says, probably unaware of the aggressive undertone in his voice.
‘Surely I’m allowed to ask how you’re feeling …?’
Jakob clears his throat. He is clearly trying to restore his grip on his role as psychologist.
‘Of course you can,’ he replies, but his eyes won’t meet hers. ‘What I meant was …You seem preoccupied. Maybe something you want to talk about?’
Linnéa can no longer hear herself think.
Jakob’s thoughts have taken over her mind entirely.
His female colleague had died, the woman with whom he was unfaithful to his wife more than a year ago. Now, he regrets everything he didn’t say and didn’t do, as he remembers all the moments they had shared. Moments that Linnéa definitely doesn’t want to see.
There is so much lurking under the surface of everyone’s life. Before she was given the ability to read minds, Linnéa never grasped just how much is going on out of sight. She feels a whole lot less of a weirdo now that she has insight into other people, into their pain and dark secrets. Although right now, she would much prefer not to.
She feels a general anxiety about the future, she says, and talks on autopilot. Jakob is barely listening. But at least she manages to stay out of his head for the rest of the session.
It is the last lesson on Friday and Minoo has a hard time concentrating in the hot classroom. She is not the only one. Her classmates’ faces glisten; they sag in their seats, whisper to each other and ignore Ylva’s attempts to make them focus on the joys of geometry. The air is thick with off-putting smells. Sweat, moist clothing and, from Hanna A whose place is just in front of Minoo, far too much perfume on warm skin.
Hanna A leans against the backrest. Minoo holds her breath and sits back, too.
She thinks about Hanna’s screaming in the chemistry lab. Viktor hasn’t shown up in school since Wednesday, when it all happened. Minoo can’t forget his smile when Kevin splashed acid over himself. What kind of person smiles at something like that?
Ylva draws a triangle on the blackboard, then turns to face the class.
‘Listen, please be quiet,’ she says.
There is a film of moisture over her glasses, just next to the base of her nose.
‘Can’t we have the rest of the lesson outside?’ Kevin asks and people all around mumble in support. ‘Hey, miss, what about it? I’ll buy you an ice cream. A soooper-sized cone!’
There is some scattered laughter and Ylva’s cheeks go even redder. Her hands go to her sides, her eyes fix on Kevin. Minoo has a feeling that Ylva must have practised looking dignified in front of the mirror. If so, it hasn’t done the trick.
‘Come oooon, it’s too hot to think,’ Kevin goes on.
Ylva shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
‘Besides, it’s the weekend soon …’ Kevin says.
‘That’s enough!’ Ylva shrieks. ‘Get out!’
She points at the door. A large sweat stain in her armpit is now visible to all. The stain is Greenland-shaped.
‘But, miss, he really hasn’t done anything,’ Hanna A says.
