12
REBECKA IS STILL wide awake when she hears the key in the front door, then her mother hanging up her jacket and taking off her shoes. The door to her brothers’ room opens, then to her sisters’.
Rebecka has already looked in on them. It was only once she and Minoo had parted company that she realised the children had been at home on their own all night. What if there had been a fire? Or one of them had woken up, not found either Rebecka or their mother, gone out on to the balcony, fallen off—
She ran home as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Everything was quiet and calm, just as she’d left it.
Her mother’s footsteps approach in the hall and Rebecka forces herself to breathe normally. Her door doesn’t open. Instead she hears her mother go into the kitchen.
Rebecka stays in bed, feeling an odd mixture of relief and melancholy. It’s obvious that her mother doesn’t see her as a child any more. Even when Rebecka was five or six, she had made sure that Anton and Oskar stayed out of trouble and behaved themselves, then later with Alma and Moa. She was constantly told what a wonderful babysitter she was.
She sits up in bed and thinks of her new family, the one she’d met tonight. Now she’s expected to play the same role there: the one who leads, mediates and keeps the group together. Will she be able to pull it off? Will she have the energy?
She goes into the kitchen where her mother is preparing breakfast. ‘Up already, Beckis?’ she asks, and gives Rebecka a hug.
Rebecka cheers up a little. It’s not often she and her mother got to spend time alone together.
As they set the table together, her mother tells her about an eventful night in A&E. A fight had broken out at Götvändaren, the only hotel in town, which had left a man needing seven stitches. Another man had beaten his wife with a hot frying-pan because she had burned the pork chops. An older woman working the nightshift at the saw mill had accidentally cut off her left hand. And a little child had been so terrified of the dark he had become almost psychotic. He was utterly convinced there were monsters wandering along the street below his window.
‘You could sure tell there was a full moon last night,’ her mother says and sets out the breakfast bowls.
Her mother has a theory that people behave differently during a full moon. If it affects the tides then it has to affect people, too, since they consist primarily of water. In her mother’s world, anything from an unusual number of births to outbreaks of violent crime or insomnia can be attributed to a full moon.
‘Maybe things are especially crazy when the moon is red,’ Rebecka suggests.
Her mother looks at her questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’
Rebecka becomes uncertain. ‘It was red. Blood red.’
‘Strange you should say that,’ her mother says. ‘A few of the patients were talking about how red the moon was. But when we nurses looked outside it seemed completely normal.’
Her mother pours herself some more coffee.
Rebecka looks out of the window to where a transparent moon lingers in the light morning sky. It’s still red. Her mother follows her gaze without reacting. Obviously she sees nothing strange about it.
‘I must have dreamed it,’ Rebecka says quietly. She thinks for a moment. ‘Mum, have you ever heard anything strange about Kärrgruvan?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know – has anyone ever said something weird happened there?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The fairground.’
‘What fairground?’
‘Kärrgruvan!’
Her mother’s brow furrows. ‘It sounds vaguely familiar. Where is it?’
‘Here, in Engelsfors.’
Her mother used to go to Kärrgruvan a lot when she was young for concerts and dancing. She’s spoken about it nostalgically. Now she just laughs. ‘You must have had some really strange dreams last night,’ she says.
‘I suppose I must,’ Rebecka mumbles.
It feels strange to be sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast as if nothing’s happened, Vanessa thinks. Chewing, swallowing, chewing, swallowing, drinking some juice, then starting again. As if it was just another day.
Her mother emerges from the bedroom and puts an arm around her. Vanessa closes her eyes. It feels nice. But her mother lets go almost immediately. Their hugs are so brief, these days. It’s mostly Vanessa’s fault. She’s sighed too often over her mother’s attempts at closeness. How’s she supposed to know that Vanessa would like nothing more just now than a hug?
‘A new shop’s opened up at the mall, the Crystal Cave,’ her mother says.
‘And they sell, let me guess … crystals?’
Her mother doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm. ‘Yes, and essential oils, all sorts of stuff. Apparently you can have your palm read, too. The owner is called Mona Moonbeam.’
‘Mona Moonbeam? Well, that doesn’t sound made up, does it?’
Her mother laughs and pours water into the coffee-maker. As it starts to sputter she stretches and yawns. ‘Nicke rang while you were in the shower. Apparently things got pretty lively in town last night,’ she says, and starts slicing a loaf of bread.
‘Define lively in Engelsfors.’
‘There was a big bust-up over at Götvändaren, and several drunken brawls across the town. Nicke said he’d never seen anything like it. He was just about to head home after work when they had a call about a woman who had hanged herself from the roof of a house in Riddarhyttan, on the road to the primary school. He was on his way there when he called and thought he wouldn’t be home for another few hours.’
‘Oh, God, how awful to be deprived of Nicke’s presence. That’s going to ruin my whole day,’ Vanessa says. She instantly regrets her comment when she sees her mother’s hurt expression.
‘For God’s sake, Vanessa, how long are you going to keep this up? Nicke is Melvin’s father. You have to accept him.’
‘I’ll accept him when he accepts me.’
‘Why can’t you just grow up?’
Vanessa’s bout of conscience evaporates. She has to bite her lip to stop herself screaming.
Her mother had only been dating Nicke for a few months when she’d got pregnant and cheerfully announced that Vanessa was going to have a sibling. Secretly Vanessa had hoped that Nicke would shirk his responsibilities but, no, he wanted to be a father, and they’d moved in together in time for the birth.
She can’t help but love Melvin, even if it was tiresome at the beginning to be woken all the time by a crying baby, but she’s hated Nicke from the start. He doesn’t make any effort to be nice to her – she’s the one who has to adapt. And her mother doesn’t see that. She’s blind to Nicke’s faults and lets him make the rules.
‘Grow up yourself,’ Vanessa snaps, and storms out into the hall.
‘Don’t speak to me like that!’ Her mother follows her.
Vanessa slams the front door in her face.
‘Did you hear the cows last night?’ Grandpa asks, when he and Anna-Karin’s mother enter the kitchen after the morning milking.
‘What do you mean?’ Anna-Karin asks, through a mouthful of cheese sandwich.
‘They were bellowing in the barn as if they’d all gone mad,’ her mother croaks. Her voice has returned but it’s not quite back to normal yet. ‘Thanks to them, I didn’t sleep a wink. Not that I ever get any sleep with my back.’
‘I must have been out for the count,’ Anna-Karin mumbles.
‘Really?’ Grandpa says. ‘You still look tired.’
‘I hope you’re not coming down with the cold I’ve had,’ her mother says, as she lights a cigarette.
Grandpa comes up to the table and lays a hand on Anna-Karin’s forehead. ‘You don’t have a fever anyway.’
The old Anna-Karin would have been happy to feign illness and stay in the security of her room. That’s changed. For the first time in her life she’s longing to go to school.
‘I’m fine,’ she sa
ys.
Grandpa gives her a hard pat on her shoulder; his version of a hug. ‘It was that blood moon, it kept the cows awake. Maybe it disturbed you, too, in your dreams.’
‘Blood moon?’ Her mother snorts. ‘You and your nonsense. I didn’t see any blood moon.’
Anna-Karin glances at Grandpa. She’s aching to tell him about all the incredible stuff that’s happening, about how her life is changing, but she can’t forget the warning: don’t trust anyone.
When Anna-Karin enters her room, she goes up to the mirror. She knows she’s no beauty, but she has nice eyes – they’re large and an unusual green – and her mouth has a pretty shape, especially when she smiles. She tests it out in front of the mirror. Her teeth are white and even. That’s something at least.
She grabs a regular bra instead of the one she usually wears to make her breasts look smaller. Most girls want bigger breasts, she reminds herself.
But when she buttons up her jeans, her self-confidence falters again. She must have the most disgusting rolls of stomach fat in the whole school. She chooses a T-shirt that is several sizes too big and pulls her tracksuit jacket over the top of it. She feels secure again.
Anna-Karin smiles hesitantly into the mirror. From now on she’s going to smile more often.
Minoo is approaching the school just as one of the school buses pulls up outside the front gate with a loud hiss. From a distance she sees Anna-Karin among the students that pour out of it. Their eyes meet for a brief moment. Anna-Karin smiles, so fleetingly that Minoo almost thinks she imagined it, then looks at the ground again, her face hidden behind her veil of hair.
‘Minoo!’ Rebecka shouts, walking towards her.
Amazing to to think they’d seen each other just a few hours ago. In such extraordinary circumstances.
‘I thought we weren’t supposed to let on that we know each other,’ Minoo says in a low voice when they meet.
‘But we’re in the same class.’
‘That doesn’t mean we should be talking to each other, does it?’
Rebecka gives her a strange look and Minoo realises she’s being silly. ‘Sorry. That was excessive,’ she says, when they start walking together. ‘Everything just feels so strange.’
‘I know, my mum said that A&E was full of people last night, that a lot of weird things had happened. Did your father hear anything? From the newspaper, I mean.’
‘He’d already left for work when I got up. Or when I pretended to get up.’
‘You haven’t slept either?’
Minoo shakes her head. She almost blurts out how she threw herself at her chemistry book as soon as she’d got through the door, but stops herself in time.
‘The weirdest thing is that some of the patients said the moon was red,’ Rebecka continues, and stops at the playground entrance, ‘but when my mum and the other nurses looked outside, none of them saw it. And when we looked at the moon together this morning I could see it was still red, but she couldn’t.’
‘So, not everyone could see it?’ Minoo asks.
‘Looks like it. And my mother didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned Kärrgruvan. It was as if she’d forgotten it even existed.’
A shiver runs down Minoo’s spine. ‘Maybe that’s what makes it a protected place. I read a book once where there was this tree you couldn’t see unless you knew it was there. Maybe it’s the same sort of thing—’ Abruptly Minoo stops and blushes. She’s been babbling again. ‘Of course, it was just a children’s book.’
‘Can you believe we’re talking seriously about this?’ Rebecka asks.
Minoo laughs. No, she can’t. They continue to walk and pass Vanessa, who follows them with her gaze but says nothing.
‘It looks like something’s happened,’ Rebecka says.
Only now does Minoo see how many people have congregated in the playground.
Gustaf comes up to them and kisses Rebecka so intimately that Minoo has to look away. Luckily it’s over quickly. Gustaf and Rebecka are like one of those perfect couples you see on TV, and try to make yourself feel better by deciding that no one looks like that in real life.
I wonder what the first boy who kisses me will look like.
That thought flutters through her mind in various forms almost every day. Late at night, as she’s about to fall asleep, she sometimes allows herself to believe that it will be Max. But in the clear light of day that idea seems childish and absurd.
‘Have you seen it?’ Gustaf asks.
Minoo and Rebecka exchange a look.
‘Seen what?’ Rebecka asks.
‘If you had, you wouldn’t be asking. Come on!’
He takes Rebecka’s hand and gestures to Minoo to come too. Minoo follows them. The students are standing in two loosely formed groups, with a fair distance between them, while the middle of the playground is empty.
‘There,’ says Gustaf, and points.
A crack has cut right through the middle of the playground. It’s not very wide, but it winds from the soccer field to the dead trees.
‘There’s a rumour going around that some old mining tunnels have collapsed,’ says Gustaf.
‘I can’t imagine they’d build a school on top of old mining tunnels,’ says Minoo. ‘Plus the mines were pretty far away from here.’
‘Maybe they did some test drilling around here back in the day,’ Rebecka suggests.
She casts a knowing glance at Minoo when Gustaf isn’t looking. Rebecka doesn’t believe that explanation either. But it’ll do for now. The crack must have had something to do with all the other stuff that happened during the night so they shouldn’t be encouraging questions.
The front doors to the school open and the principal strides out on to the steps. She stands there calmly as the chattering slowly dies away. When she speaks, each word she says is as clear as if she were using a microphone.
‘You must all leave the playground. The school will be closed while the crack is investigated.’
Scattered cheers and applause. Minoo looks around. Rebecka and Gustaf are standing in front of her. Vanessa is by the goalposts with Evelina and Michelle. Ida is sitting on the balustrade beside the front steps with Felicia. Oddly, Anna-Karin is next to them, talking to Julia.
Max is with a few of the other teachers. He’s got his jacket over one arm, his briefcase in his hand, and looks incredibly hot. Behind him she can just see Nicolaus. We’re all chess pieces on a board, Minoo thinks, set up for a decisive match.
‘The fire brigade has been here to inspect the gas and water pipes, but they want to carry out further checks,’ the principal continues. ‘Tomorrow we’ll make up the work we miss today.’
She goes back inside the school. The playground empties.
‘See you tomorrow then,’ Rebecka says, and smiles at Minoo.
‘See you Minoo,’ Gustaf says.
They walk off entwined in each other’s arms. Minoo looks after them for a moment, then turns towards the school again. She gazes at the drab building – the rows of identical windows, the bland brickwork – and tries to picture it as a place of evil. But it’s difficult. It’s not a place she likes, but she knows who she is here and what she’s good at.
In the rest of the world she has no idea.
II
13
AS SHE RUNS down the steps to the cafeteria, it’s as if her entire body is carried forward in one fluid movement. She doesn’t need to look where she’s putting her feet. The fear of tripping is gone, as if it never existed.
The lunch queue winds out into the stairwell. The girls standing at the back turn, see her and break into fawning smiles that spread like a wave as she passes. Several of the boys look away sheepishly when their eyes meet. She knows they’re infatuated.
She continues all the way up to Kevin Månsson and Robin Zetterqvist, who are standing by the cutlery and plates. She notices that Erik Forslund isn’t with them. He’s barely been seen at school since he wet himself in the playground.
‘Here.’ Kevin hands her his tray and lets her go ahead of him.
She doesn’t answer, simply takes the tray and serves herself.
It’s so different now, living in her body. She feels at home in it. She has control of it. She’s sure-footed. Her back is straight. Her ponytail bobs with every step she takes. Her entire being feels light, free and natural. She’s happy.
‘You’re looking so hot today!’ Felicia says, when she comes up to their table.
They’re sitting in a side-room just off the main seating area – a sort of appendix with no windows and just enough space for six tables. According to the unwritten law, this is where the popular crowd sits.
‘Thanks,’ she says, and sits down.
Both Felicia and Julia look at her expectantly. They’re like a couple of eager puppies hopping around their master’s feet. If Felicia and Julia had tails, they would definitely be wagging them.
‘Felicia and I were just saying it feels like we’ve been friends with you for years,’ Julia says.
‘Yeah, I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks,’ Felicia says.
Anna-Karin smiles. ‘Nor me.’
Kevin and Robin are walking towards them; they have always been considered the coolest and funniest boys in their class, perhaps even in the whole school. Anna-Karin wonders who decided that. When had everyone got together and crowned them kings?
But it doesn’t make any difference now. Those days are gone. Anna-Karin has seen to that.
Robin and Kevin have reached their table now. She turns to Julia and Felicia and rolls her eyes dramatically. They roll theirs back.
‘We were thinking of sitting with you, if that’s okay,’ Robin says.
Kevin pulls out the chair next to Anna-Karin. She stares at him as Julia and Felicia hold their breath. ‘I don’t think so,’ she says flatly, and Kevin lets go of the chair as if he’d just burned himself on it.
The Circle (Hammer) Page 10
