those thoughts and forced himself to focus on the young man in the room and his pitiful existence. The questions he asked came automatically, like the smile of empathy that he always had ready for a new black sheep in the flock.
Another day. Another broken soul to mend. It never ended. But even God had a chance to rest on the seventh day.
After going to collect her relatives, now as pink as pigs, out on the skerry, Erica was eagerly waiting for Patrik to come home. She was also searching for signs that Conny and his family would start packing their things, but it was already half past five and they had made no move to leave. She decided to wait a while before thinking up some subtle way to ask whether they were going soon. The kids’ shrieking had given her a splitting headache, so she wouldn’t wait long. With relief she heard Patrik coming up the steps and went to meet him.
‘Hi, honey,’ she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
‘Hi. Haven’t they left yet?’ Patrik spoke in a low voice as he glanced towards the living room.
‘No, and they don’t seem to be making any moves in that direction, either. What on earth are we going to do?’ Erica replied in an equally low voice, rolling her eyes to show her displeasure at the situation.
‘They can’t expect to stay another night without asking, can they? Or can they?’ said Patrik, looking nervous.
Erica snorted. ‘If you only knew how many guests my parents used to have during the summer over the years. People who were just going to be here a night or two and then stayed for a week, expecting to be waited on, expecting free meals. People are crazy. And relatives are always the worst.’
Patrik looked horror-stricken. ‘They can’t stay for a week! We have to do something. Can’t you tell them they have to leave?’
‘Me? Why should I have to tell them?’
‘They’re your relatives, after all.’
Erica had to admit that he had a point. She was just going to have to bite the bullet. She went into the living room to hear about their plans, but never got a chance to ask.
‘What’s for dinner?’ Four pairs of eyes turned expectantly towards her.
‘Well …’ Erica was speechless at their sheer audacity. She quickly went over the contents of the fridge in her mind. ‘It’s spaghetti with meat sauce. In an hour.’
Erica felt like kicking herself when she went back to Patrik in the kitchen.
‘So, what did they say? Are they leaving?’
Erica couldn’t look Patrik in the eye. She said, ‘I don’t really know. But we’re having spaghetti with meat sauce in an hour.’
‘Didn’t you say anything?’ Now it was Patrik’s turn to roll his eyes.
‘It’s not that easy. Try it yourself, you’ll see.’ Annoyed, Erica turned away and started banging pots and pans as she took them from the cupboard. ‘We’re going to have to grit our teeth for another night. I’ll tell them tomorrow. Start chopping some onions, will you? I can’t make dinner for six all by myself.’
In oppressive silence they worked together in the kitchen until Erica couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
‘I was at the library today,’ she said. ‘I copied some material that you might be able to use. It’s on the kitchen table.’ There was a neat stack of photocopies lying there.
‘I told you that you shouldn’t –’
‘No, no, I know. But now it’s done, and it was really fun for a change instead of sitting at home staring at the walls. So don’t complain.’
By this time Patrik had learned when he should shut up, and he sat down at the kitchen table and began going through the material. They were newspaper articles about the disappearance of the two young women, and he read them with great interest.
‘Damn, this is great! I’m going to take this stuff to the office tomorrow and go through it more carefully, but it looks fantastic.’
He went over to stand behind her at the stove and put his arms around her swollen belly.
‘I didn’t mean to complain. I’m just concerned about you and the baby.’
‘I know.’ Erica turned to face him and put her arms round his neck. ‘But I’m not made of porcelain, and if women in the old days could work in the fields until they pretty much gave birth on the spot, I can certainly sit in a library and turn pages with no ill effects.’
‘Okay, I know.’ He sighed. ‘As soon as we get rid of our lodgers, we can pay more attention to each other. And promise me that you’ll tell me if you want me to stay home. The station knows that I’ve volunteered to work during my holiday and that you take precedence.’
‘I promise. But now help me get the dinner ready and maybe the kids will calm down.’
‘I doubt it. Maybe we should give them each a shot of whisky before dinner, so they’ll fall asleep.’ He gave her a wink and then laughed.
‘Ooh, you’re terrible. Give one to Conny and Britta instead, then we’ll at least have them in a good mood.’
Patrik did as she suggested, casting a mournful glance at the hastily dropping level in the bottle of his best single-malt. If Erica’s relatives stayed another couple of days, his whisky supply would never be the same.
3
SUMMER 1979
She opened her eyes with great caution. The reason was a splitting headache that produced shooting pains to the very roots of her hair. But the strange thing was that there was no difference in what she saw when she opened her eyes. It was still the same dense darkness. In a moment of panic she thought that she had gone blind. Maybe there was something wrong with that homebrew she had drunk yesterday. She’d heard stories about that stuff – young people who went blind drinking home-made rotgut. But after a few seconds her surroundings hazily began to emerge, and she understood that there was nothing wrong with her eyesight; she was somewhere with very little light. She looked up to check whether she could see a starry sky, or maybe some moonlight if she were lying outdoors somewhere, but she realized immediately that it never got this dark in the summertime. She should have been able to see the ethereal light of a Nordic summer night.
She touched the surface she was lying on and picked up a fistful of sandy soil, which she let run between her fingers. There was a strong odour of humus, a sickly sweet smell, and she had a sense of being underground. Panic set in. Along with claustrophobia. Without knowing how big the space was she had an image of walls slowly closing in on her. She clutched at her throat when it felt like the air was running out, but then forced herself to take some calm, deep breaths to keep the panic at bay.
It was cold, and she understood all at once that she was naked except for her knickers. Her body ached, and she shivered, wrapping her arms round herself and drawing her knees up to her chin. The first wave of panic now gave way to a terror so strong that she could feel it gnawing at her bones. How had she got here? And why? Who had undressed her? The only thing her mind told her was that she probably didn’t want to know the answers to those questions. Something evil had happened to her but she didn’t know what – that in itself multiplied the terror that was paralysing her.
A streak of light appeared on her hand, and she automatically raised her eyes towards its source. A little crack of light was visible against the velvet-dark blackness. She forced herself to her feet and screamed for help. No response. She stood on tiptoe and tried to reach the source of the light but wasn’t even close. Instead she could feel water dripping on her upturned face. The drops became a steady trickle and she realized at once how thirsty she was. Without thinking she opened her mouth to drink. At first most of it ran down her face, but soon she discovered the proper technique and drank