‘Do you remember the friend I was telling you about? The one who committed suicide?’ he asks softly.
Minoo nods.
‘Her name was Alice. She showed me that picture … She looked so much like her, it was uncanny. She used to joke that she was Jane Morris’s reincarnation.’
‘You loved her.’ Minoo doesn’t know where those words came from.
Max looks at her in surprise, as if she’s woken him up. ‘Yes,’ he answers. ‘I did.’
She meets his gaze and holds it.
‘You’re a very unusual person, Minoo,’ he says quietly. ‘I wish …’
He falls silent.
‘What?’ she asks, in a voice that is no more than a whisper.
She moves closer to him – just a hair’s breadth – but she feels as if she’s just thrown herself off a cliff. It’s now or never. Let it happen, she thinks. Please, let it happen.
Max’s hand, which just a moment ago was resting on the back of the sofa, finds its way to her shoulder and lies there.
It’s as if they’ve become each other’s reflection. When he moves towards her, she moves towards him, until they’re so close that their lips meet.
Minoo has always worried that she’d do something wrong the first time she kissed someone. But Max is kissing her now and it’s not difficult at all. It’s simple, it’s perfect. His lips are warm and soft and taste a little of tea. His hands are on her back, then on her waist, and she moves in closer to him.
Then he stops himself. His lips pull away from hers and he straightens, takes away his hands. He presses the tips of his fingers to his forehead and shuts his eyes tightly, as if he had a splitting headache. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says finally. ‘This is wrong. You’re my student … And I’m far too old for you—’
‘No,’ she interrupts. ‘You don’t understand. I may be sixteen, but I don’t feel sixteen. I can’t even speak to people my own age.’
‘I understand you might feel like that,’ he says, ‘but when you’re older you’ll realise how young you actually were.’
It hurts so much that she can’t understand how she can still be alive. She gets up from the sofa. ‘I have to go.’ She rushes out into the hall and pulls on her jacket, shoves her feet into her shoes and staggers towards the front door.
‘Minoo,’ she hears Max say behind her.
She presses down the handle and almost falls out of the house. She continues straight across the street and runs as fast as she can, back the way she came, without turning once.
She doesn’t slow down until she reaches Storvall Park. The few scattered streetlamps spread pools of light in the dense darkness. Minoo sinks on to a bench. Snowflakes begin to fall and more come in quick succession. The first real snowfall of the year.
If I just sit here without moving I’ll soon be hidden under a layer of snow, Minoo thinks hopefully. I can thaw in time for spring, completely dead.
A low doleful mewing drifts through the park. She listens into the darkness. It’s impossible to tell which direction it’s coming from. The wind blows through bushes and the trees’ bare branches. A shadow glides into the light of the streetlamp.
Cat.
All at once she feels enormous pity for the poor creature. We’re both wretched, you and me. ‘Pss, pss, pss,’ she says, trying to get its attention.
The cat stops, looks at her and moves closer. Then suddenly it lets out a blurk and bends its neck as if something were stuck in its throat. Blurk. Minoo is glad she didn’t pet it – who knows what diseases it has?
Blurk, it croaks again.
And suddenly she realises what the animal is doing: it’s trying to cough up a hairball.
‘Goodnight, Cat,’ she mumbles, and stands up. ‘Good luck.’
Blurk, Cat responds, and something lands on the ground in front of it with a tinkle. A small object that glitters in the light of the streetlamp.
Cat looks at Minoo urgently and she moves closer.
There, in a little pool of cat puke and hair, lies a key.
Minoo hesitates for a long moment, then picks it up.
Like some kind of affirmation, Cat rubs against her once, then disappears into the darkness.
34
ON MONDAY MORNING Minoo gets up half an hour earlier than usual. The weekend feels like a long and strange dream. The blue flame. The six elements. The book of patterns. Cat and the key. And Max. Above all Max.
Max had kissed her.
There’s no denying that.
He had kissed her and it had meant something to him. However much she doubts herself, she could see it in his eyes.
He wants her. Her heart sings when she thinks about it. Max wants her, and she’s going to make him understand that it’s okay. There’s no reason to fight what they feel for each other.
Minoo puts on a black top she bought last year but never dared wear. It’s tighter than the ones she usually wears and is a bit lower cut. Normally she doesn’t wear much makeup, except for concealer on her acne, but now she takes out her barely used eyeliner and frames her eyes. When she examines herself in the mirror, she immediately dislikes the result. Her eyes look smaller.
She washes it all off and starts from scratch – covers her acne with concealer, applies a little more beneath her eyes, and finishes off with mascara on her upper lashes. She uses the concealer on a few more pimples just beneath her collarbone and on her shoulder. Why content yourself with pimples on your face when you can have them all over your body?
Minoo puts her makeup bag on the bedside table and catches sight of the little key. She’s washed it several times and rubbed it with disinfectant, but still she can barely make herself touch it.
She has a theory about where it leads. Before the weekend, Minoo would immediately have shown it to the principal. But she has no intention of doing that now. Not after what happened at the fairground. Adriana Lopez hasn’t been in touch since Minoo left – obviously she doesn’t consider her a Chosen One any more, so why should Minoo be loyal to her?
She puts the key into her pocket and glances at herself in the full-length mirror.
She doesn’t look bad. If she squints she can almost pretend she’s pretty.
It’s snowing and a centimetre-thick layer of snow has settled over the playground. Minoo is early. Only a few pairs of footprints wind their way up to the entrance.
When she enters the school she’s hit by the pungent smell of cleaning fluid. The graffiti that had adorned one of the walls is still visible, despite attempts to scrub it off:
IF U WANNA SAVE THE PLANET KILL UR FUCKIN SELF
Minoo doesn’t know if it’s the smell or the message that makes her feel sick. She looks away and continues towards Nicolaus’s office at the far end of the corridor. Her footsteps echo desolately beneath the buzz of the fluorescent lighting.
She hears something else: a muffled scraping sound behind her. Like something dragging itself along the floor.
Minoo spins around.
The corridor is deserted.
‘Minoo?’ someone whispers.
She turns back. Nicolaus has appeared in the doorway of his office. She casts a glance over her shoulder before she heads into his room.
Nicolaus is dressed in a threadbare grey suit. He looks threadbare and grey too. As if he has aged a few decades since the principal dismissed him.
‘Hi,’ Minoo says. ‘I have to show you something.’
‘Oh?’ Nicolaus says, raising one eyebrow. ‘Has that woman given her permission?’
‘No,’ Minoo answers gravely. ‘I haven’t said anything to her. And I’m not going to either, if you don’t want me to.’
A little smile spreads across Nicolaus’s face before he catches himself and switches to a more dignified expression. ‘Very well. Show me.’
Cat comes sneaking up, jumps on to the desk and gets comfortable.
Minoo glances at it and it looks around the room. Minoo gets the feeling that it’s trying to act disinterested. She takes
out the key and hands it to Nicolaus, who turns it over in his hand as she tells him how she came by it.
‘This unholy animal vomited up this artefact?’ Nicolaus asks, almost proudly, as if Cat were his child, who had just done something amazing.
It lets out a miaow and rubs against Nicolaus’s hand. He pats its head distractedly, a little too roughly, Minoo thinks. But the animal looks content as it closes one eye halfway and starts purring.
‘I think I know what it opens,’ she says. ‘My parents have a safety deposit box where they keep their valuables. I checked their key, and this one is the same type. I thought of it because I saw Cat outside the bank on Storvall Square the day Rebecka died. I suspect it has a safety deposit box in your name, and this is the key to it.’
‘Why in my name?’
‘That’s the only logical conclusion I could come up with. Cat turned up here first, didn’t it?’
‘Verily it did,’ says Nicolaus, thoughtfully, ‘and I have to admit that I’ve started to grow rather fond of the flea-ridden beast.’
Cat mews approvingly.
‘You’re right,’ Nicolaus concludes. ‘I ought to go over there and enquire.’
‘Good,’ says Minoo.
‘I have just one question. What is a safety deposit box?’
Minoo bites her lip. ‘I’ll go with you,’ she says.
‘I won’t allow it. We mustn’t be seen together. The powers of darkness—’
‘Okay, okay!’ Minoo cuts in. ‘But we don’t know what’s in the box. You shouldn’t go alone.’
‘That’s precisely why I must go alone. I have no intention of exposing anyone else to danger,’ Nicolaus says.
Minoo sighs. She can’t let Nicolaus go off on his own. They still know nothing about the cat and what it’s after.
She’ll have to ask Vanessa for help, even though she has no desire to see any of the Chosen Ones after her embarrassing exit from the fairground.
When Minoo steps out of Nicolaus’s room, the corridor is filling with students. She spots Linnéa talking to a girl with blue hair. Luckily she doesn’t see Minoo when she gets her books out of her locker and hurries down the corridor.
She is just about to walk up the stairs when she hears Gustaf call her name. She turns. There he his, in his thick down jacket, his cheeks rosy from the cold.
‘Hi,’ he says.
‘Hi,’ she answers.
She feels that people rushing past them on the stairs are looking at them. What does a guy like Gustaf Åhlander have to say to someone like Minoo? He’s more popular than ever after Rebecka’s death and the interview in the paper. Naturally, the school is teeming with girls eager to comfort him.
Gustaf pulls off his hat and shoves it into his jacket pocket. ‘I just wanted to say thanks,’ he says.
‘For what?’
‘For listening. At the church. And for telling me to speak to Rebecka’s parents. I never would have dared otherwise. I felt like … well, if you could understand me, maybe they would, too.’
Minoo sees his eyes are wet. ‘What did they say?’ she asks.
‘They were happy I came to the funeral and weren’t angry with me. They understood. The newspapers had been after them, too. Rebecka’s mother also regretted having spoken to Cissi. It was … nice. We sat there crying together.’
Now she understands what Rebecka saw in Gustaf. He has an incredible openness. Minoo wonders how he manages it in a town like this, where a guy’s identified as gay for the least display of emotion. It means social death. ‘Great,’ she says. ‘That everything went well, I mean.’
Gustaf nods and gives her a quick hug. Suddenly she wishes she knew him better. He lets her go and disappears down the corridor.
She is just about to go up the stairs when she sees Max on the landing above, holding a coffee cup. He smiles at her and continues up towards the classroom. Minoo remains where she is.
There hadn’t been a trace of warmth in that smile or the slightest hint that they had a shared secret. It had been a teacher’s smile to a student. Any student.
Anna-Karin gets off the bus and starts walking home. It’s stopped snowing and the white blanket stretches across the countryside. She hadn’t had the energy to stay at school past lunch so for once it’s still light when she arrives. That’s the worst thing about this time of year for Anna-Karin: it’s dark when she goes to school and dark when she gets home.
Grandpa is standing outside the barn talking to Jari’s father, who’s over today to fix the roof on Grandpa’s cabin. It’s hard to imagine that Jari and his father are related. His father is short and stocky, almost cube-shaped.
Anna-Karin stands to the side until he climbs into his car and drives off, and she’s left alone with Grandpa.
‘Hello,’ Grandpa says, when he catches sight of her.
‘Hi.’ Anna-Karin walks up to him.
Grandpa looks up at the sky. ‘If it were summer I’d say we were in for lightning,’ he says.
Anna-Karin follows his gaze. The sky is an infinite mass of nothing. An even greyish-white without end. ‘What do you mean?’ she asks.
‘Can’t you feel that the air is full of electricity?’ he says. ‘Some kind of discharge is on the way, no doubt about it.’ He looks straight at her. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
She shakes her head silently. Grandpa is like a living barometer. And he can read more than just the weather. He always knows exactly how the animals on the farm are feeling. It’s as if they tell him in some mysterious way. And several times he’s helped people in the area find water with his divining rod. He doesn’t make an issue of these things. It’s just something he does. But this time he seems confused by what Nature is telling him.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ he mutters, and spits into the snow. Then he attempts a smile. ‘Maybe I’m going senile.’
‘Stop it, Grandpa,’ says Anna-Karin. She hates it when he talks like that.
His eyes are distant. ‘I almost hope it’s just the figment of an old man’s imagination,’ he says. ‘I’m woken at night by whispering in the trees. And every morning when I look out of the window the forest seems to have closed in a little more tightly around us. It’s as if it’s preparing itself.’
‘For what?’ she asks.
He stares at her. It’s as if they are standing on opposite shores of a sea, and Grandpa is trying to work out a way to cross to her side. ‘Sweetheart …’ he begins.
Everything unsaid stands between them. And that’s so much. A whole sea of silence that has been there all Anna-Karin’s life.
‘I know I’m not always good at talking about … certain things,’ Grandpa continues. ‘We men didn’t learn how to do it in my day. But I hope you know that I … that I love you.’
Anna-Karin is embarrassed. She wants to say she loves him, too, but she’s unable to speak.
‘And I would love you no matter what mistakes you made. Even if you did something wrong, I’d love you, and if someone wanted to hurt you, I’d defend you with the last drop of my blood.’
Anna-Karin feels her cheeks flush.
‘I’m on your side, even if I don’t know what it’s about. And, God knows, there’s a lot I don’t understand right now. These are strange times.’
It’s at this moment that she feels she could tell him everything. If you only knew how many people have wanted to harm me over the years, Anna-Karin wants to say. If you only knew what’s going on in my life now.
It’s my job to inform you that the Council has launched an investigation.
The principal’s words echo in her head. She doesn’t want to contemplate what form punishment by a witches’ council might take.
A flock of jackdaws lifts from the forest across the other side of the pasture. They circle through the air, cawing frantically as if someone had frightened them. Anna-Karin can hear their hard wing beats from where she stands. They cluster beneath the white sky before heading off over the treetops.
Grandpa m
umbles something in Finnish, his gaze fixed on the birds.
Anna-Karin looks at Grandpa. He looks at her. And they both know that the moment has passed. The sea still separates them, impossible to cross.
35
VANESSA IS STANDING in the lobby of the bank, leaning against a high table on which small cardboard stands of fliers ask whether she’s considered getting a credit card, or if she’d like to borrow money for a new lawnmower and even her dream house.
She’s promised Minoo to follow Nicolaus into the bank without his knowledge. Of course the stubborn old fool refused to accept the help he obviously needs, so she’s been told to make herself invisible and keep an eye on him.
And he’s supposed to be our guide, she thinks, glancing at him as he stands there, staring at his number slip. He’s wearing a heavy, moth-eaten winter coat that looks as if he bought it at a flea market.
But she has to admit she’s excited. She’ll be the first to see whatever’s in the mysterious safety deposit box. Further more, she likes going behind the principal’s back. They had a class with her on Sunday, too, and it was no more fun than being in school. You might expect a course in magic to be thrilling, but they just sat there staring into the Book of Patterns with their mini spyglasses. All they’d got from it was headaches. It reminded Vanessa of the digitalised dot images in which you’re supposed to be able to see 3D figures. She can never make them out.
Vanessa is watching the bank staff typing silently or speaking to customers in low, trust-inspiring voices. Everyone working here is neat and well dressed, and their footsteps whisper along the wall-to-wall carpeting. Vanessa tries to imagine what it would be like to work here and is instantly bored.
Her mother actually dated a guy who worked here. Tobias. He was as tedious as he was smug. When he met a rich girl from Gothenburg he’d dumped her without a second thought, and Vanessa had had to comfort her and hide the wine box.
Eventually, when her mother had been sitting at the dinner table, snivelling again, Vanessa had lost patience and told her off – maybe she should meet a guy who made her happy, she’d suggested. Her mother had just looked at her with bloodshot eyes and blubbered that Vanessa didn’t understand. ‘Love hurts,’ she said. ‘Or it isn’t really love.’
The Circle (Hammer) Page 24
