The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7)

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The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Page 4

by Camilla Lackberg


  ‘Now, now, take it easy. We need to save our energy for later.’ She placed her hands against his chest to hold him off.

  ‘Are you sure about that? Lately I’ve been so tired in the evenings.’ Again he drew her close. To his great disappointment, she slipped away and turned to head for her home office.

  ‘You’ll just have to wait. I’ve got so much to do that I couldn’t possibly relax right now. And you know how things go when I’m not relaxed.’

  ‘Okay. All right.’

  Crestfallen, Erling watched her walk away. Of course they could wait until later, but he’d fallen asleep on the sofa for over a week now. Every morning he awoke to find himself lying under a blanket that Vivianne had tenderly spread over him, with one of the sofa pillows under his head. He couldn’t understand it. It must be because he was working too hard. He really ought to get better at delegating tasks to others.

  ‘I’ve brought home a treat, at any rate,’ he called after her.

  ‘That’s nice of you. What is it?’

  ‘Shrimp from Olsson Brothers’, and an excellent bottle of Chablis.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful. I’ll be done around eight o’clock, so it would be lovely if you had everything ready by then.’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart,’ murmured Erling.

  He picked up the carrier bags and took them out to the kitchen. It still felt a bit strange to him. When he was married to Viveca, she had always taken care of the cooking. But since Vivianne had moved in, she had somehow shifted the responsibility to his shoulders. For the life of him, he couldn’t comprehend how that had happened.

  He sighed heavily as he put the groceries in the refrigerator. Then he thought about what was in store for him later in the evening and his mood lifted. He would make sure that she was properly relaxed. It would certainly make up for the time he had to spend in the kitchen.

  Erica was breathing hard as she walked through Fjällbacka. Being pregnant with twins and then undergoing a caesarean hadn’t exactly helped either her weight or her physical condition. But that sort of thing now seemed terribly unimportant. Both of her sons were healthy. They had survived, and the gratitude she felt every morning when they started crying at six thirty was so overwhelming that it still brought tears to her eyes.

  Anna had suffered a much worse fate, and for the first time Erica had no idea how to approach her sister. Their relationship had never been easy, but since the time they were kids, Erica had been the one to take care of Anna, blowing on her bruises and cuts, wiping away her tears. This time things were different. The pain wasn’t some minor scrape but a deep hole in Anna’s soul. Erica felt as if she were standing off to the side, watching as her sister’s life force seeped out of her. How was she going to help her heal? Anna’s son had died, and no matter how sad Erica felt, she couldn’t conceal her joy that her own children had lived. After the accident, Anna couldn’t bear to look at her. Erica had gone to the hospital to sit next to her sister’s bed. But not once had Anna met her eye.

  After Anna came home, Erica couldn’t bring herself to visit her. She had merely phoned Dan a few times. He sounded both depressed and resigned. So now Erica couldn’t put it off any longer. She had asked Kristina to come over to babysit for the twins and Maja. Anna was her sister. She was Erica’s responsibility.

  Her hand felt like lead as she knocked on the door. She heard the children making a commotion inside, and after a moment Emma opened the door.

  ‘Aunt Erica!’ she cried happily. ‘Where are the babies?’

  ‘They’re home with Maja and their grandmother.’ Erica patted Emma’s cheek. She looked so much like Anna when she was a child.

  ‘Mamma is sad,’ said Emma, glancing up at Erica. ‘All she does is sleep, and Pappa says that it’s because she’s so sad. She’s sad because the baby in her stomach decided to go to heaven instead of coming to live here with us. And I can understand why, because Adrian is always so noisy and Lisen keeps teasing me. But I would have been really nice to the baby. Really nice.’

  ‘I know you would, sweetie. But just think how much fun the baby must be having bouncing around up there on all the clouds.’

  ‘Like on lots and lots of gigantic trampolines?’ Emma’s face lit up.

  ‘That’s right. Exactly like lots of trampolines.’

  ‘Oh, I wish I had lots of big trampolines,’ said Emma. ‘All we have is a tiny one out in the garden. There’s only room for one of us, and Lisen always gets to go first, and I never get a turn to jump on it.’ She turned on her heel and headed for the living room, still muttering to herself.

  Only then did Erica realize what Emma had said. She had called Dan ‘Pappa’. Erica smiled. It actually didn’t surprise her, because Dan loved Anna’s children, and they had loved him right from the start. The child that Dan and Anna were expecting together would have bound the family even closer. Erica swallowed hard as she followed Emma into the living room. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in there.

  ‘Sorry about the mess,’ said Dan with embarrassment. ‘I just can’t seem to keep up. It feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day.’

  ‘I know what you mean. You should see what our house looks like.’ Erica paused in the doorway, casting a glance upstairs. ‘Is it okay if I go up?’

  ‘Sure, go ahead.’ Dan rubbed his hand over his face. He looked totally exhausted and sad.

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ said Emma. But Dan squatted down to talk to her quietly, persuading her to allow Erica to look in on Anna alone.

  Dan and Anna’s bedroom was just to the right at the top of the stairs. Erica raised her hand but then stopped herself from knocking. Cautiously she pushed open the door. Anna was lying with her face turned towards the window. The late afternoon sun shone on her head, making it gleam under the downy new hair. Erica felt a pang in her heart. She had always been more like a mother for Anna, but that had changed over the past few years and their relationship had become that of two sisters. Yet with one blow they were back in their old roles. Anna young and vulnerable; Erica concerned and protective.

  Anna’s breathing was calm and regular. She gave a little whimper, and Erica realized that she was asleep. She tiptoed over to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge so as not to wake Anna. Gently she placed her hand on her sister’s hip. Whether Anna liked it or not, she intended to stay by her side. They were sisters. And friends.

  ‘Pappa’s home!’ Patrik shouted loudly and then listened for the expected response. He heard two little feet pattering along the floor, and the next second he saw Maja come around the corner at top speed, heading straight towards him.

  ‘Pappaaaa!’ She kissed his face over and over, as if he had returned from a voyage around the world and not just from a day at work.

  ‘Hi, sweetie. Pappa’s little girl.’ He gave her a big hug, burrowing his nose against her neck and breathing in that special Maja-scent that always made his heart leap.

  ‘I thought you were working only half-days.’ His mother wiped her hands on a dishcloth as she gave him the same look he remembered from when he was a teenager and came home later than he’d promised.

  ‘It felt so good to be back on the job that I stayed a bit longer. But I’ll take it easy. We don’t have anything urgent at the moment.’

  ‘Well, you know best. But you need to listen to your body. What happened to you should be taken seriously.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Patrik hoped his mother would drop the subject. She didn’t really need to worry. He couldn’t shake off the terror that had come over him in the ambulance on the way to Uddevalla Hospital. He thought he was going to die; he’d been totally convinced of it. Images of Maja and Erica and the two babies that he would never get to see kept whirling through his mind, round and round, merging with the pain in his chest.

  Not until he woke up in Intensive Care did he realize that he had survived, that it had been his body’s way of telling him to take things easier. But then he was told about the car accident, and a n
ew pain had descended on him. When they took him in a wheelchair to see the twins, his first impulse had been to turn around in the door. They were so tiny and defenceless. Their thin chests rose and fell with such effort, and every once in a while a spasm would pass through their bodies. He couldn’t believe that anything so small could survive; he didn’t want to go any closer, didn’t want to touch them. If he did, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to say goodbye.

  ‘Where are your brothers?’ Patrik asked Maja. He was still holding her, and she had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

  ‘They’re sleeping. But they made a mess in their nappies. A big mess. Grandma wiped it up. It smelled yucky.’ She wrinkled her nose.

  ‘They’ve been little angels,’ said Kristina, her face lighting up. ‘They each drank nearly two bottles of formula, and then they fell asleep without any fuss at all. Well, after dirtying their nappies, as Maja said.’

  ‘I’ll go upstairs and look in on them for a minute,’ said Patrik. Ever since the twins had come home from the hospital, he’d gotten used to having them always within sight. While he was at work, he’d felt a terrible longing to see them.

  He went upstairs to the bedroom. They hadn’t wanted to separate the two boys, so they slept in the same cot. Right now they were so close that their noses touched. Noel’s arm was draped over Anton, as if protecting him. Patrik wondered what their roles would be. Noel seemed a little more demanding, a little louder than Anton, who could best be described as content. As long as he got enough food and was allowed to sleep when he was tired, they never heard anything but delighted prattle from him. Noel, on the other hand, would utter loud protests if he wasn’t happy about something. He didn’t like being dressed or having his nappy changed. Worst of all was being bathed. Judging by his screams, he seemed to think that water was life-threatening.

  Patrik stood for a long time leaning over their cot. Noel and Anton were both sound asleep, their eyelids fluttering faintly. He wondered if they were dreaming the same thing.

  Nathalie sat on the steps in the fading sunlight as she watched the boat approach. Sam had already fallen asleep. Slowly she stood up and walked down to the dock.

  ‘Permission to come ashore!’

  His voice sounded familiar, and yet different. She could tell that he’d been through plenty since they’d last met. At first she wanted to shout: ‘No, don’t come ashore! You don’t belong here any more.’ Instead, she caught the line he tossed her and out of habit tied a double half-hitch to moor the boat. The next second he was standing on the dock. Nathalie had forgotten how tall he was. She was used to being about the same height as most men, but she’d always been able to press her head against his chest. That was one of the things that Fredrik had teased her about – the fact that she was at least an inch taller than he was. She had always been forced to wear flats whenever they went anywhere together.

  Don’t think about Fredrik right now. Don’t think about …

  She found herself in his arms. She didn’t quite know how that happened, or who took the first step. All of a sudden his arms were around her, and his rough sweater was scratchy against her cheek. Drawn into his embrace she felt safe, and she breathed in his familiar scent, which she hadn’t smelled for so many years. Matte’s scent.

  ‘Hi, Nathalie.’ He hugged her even harder, as if trying to keep her from falling, and he succeeded. She wanted to stay there for ever, touching everything that had been hers so long ago but that had vanished in all the confusion of darkness and desperation. Finally he released her, holding her away as he studied her face, as if seeing it for the very first time.

  ‘You look just the same,’ he said. But Nathalie could see in his eyes that it wasn’t true. She wasn’t the same; she was someone else. It was evident in her face, in the lines etched around her eyes and mouth, and she knew that he could tell. She loved him for pretending otherwise. He’d always been so good at that – at pretending bad things would go away if only you closed your eyes tight enough.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, holding out her hand to him. He took it, and then they walked up to the house.

  ‘The island looks the same as always.’ The wind snatched at his voice, carrying it out over the cliffs.

  ‘Yes. Here, nothing has changed.’ She wanted to say more, but Matte stepped inside. He had to duck as he went in the door, and then the moment was gone. That was how things had always been with Matte. She could remember words that she’d carried inside her and wanted to say to him, but they had refused to come out, rendering her mute. And making him sad. She knew that. Sad that she shut him out whenever the darkness descended.

  She couldn’t let him in now either, but she could allow him to sit here in the house with her. At least for a while. She needed his warm presence. She had been frozen for so long.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ She took out a saucepan without waiting for him to reply. She needed to keep busy in order not to reveal that she was shaking.

  ‘Sure, that would be nice. Where have you put that little man of yours? How old is he now?’

  She gave him an enquiring look.

  ‘Mamma and Pappa have kept me up-to-date,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘He’s five. And he’s already asleep.’

  ‘Ah.’ He sounded disappointed, and that warmed her heart. It was important to her. She had often wondered what things would have been like if she’d had Sam with Matte instead of with Fredrik. Only in that case, he wouldn’t have been Sam but some other child. And that was impossible to imagine.

  She was glad that Sam was asleep. She didn’t want Matte to see him the way he was now. But as soon as he was feeling better, she would introduce Matte to her little boy, whose brown eyes were always so filled with mischief. If only the mischief would return, then all three of them could spend time together. She looked forward to that.

  They sat in silence for a while, sipping the hot tea. It was odd to feel like strangers, to know that they had let the passing of time bring them to this state. Then they started talking. It wasn’t easy, because they were not the same people they used to be. Slowly they fell into a familiar rhythm that had been theirs alone, and they were able to strip away all that the years had placed between them.

  When she took his hand and led him upstairs, it felt as if everything was as it should be. Afterwards, she fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her and his breath in her ear. Outside she could hear the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

  Vivianne spread a blanket over Erling. The sleeping pill had knocked him out, as usual. He’d started to wonder why he fell asleep on the sofa every evening, and she knew that she had to be careful. But she could no longer stand lying next to him, feeling his body touching hers. She couldn’t do it.

  She went into the kitchen and tossed the shrimp shells into the rubbish. Then she rinsed off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. There was a little wine left, so she poured it into a fresh glass and went back to the TV room.

  It was so close now, and she was beginning to get nervous. Over the past few days it had seemed as if the fiction they had so carefully constructed might collapse. Only one small part had to shift for the whole thing to come tumbling down. She knew that. When she was younger, she’d found a certain perverse enjoyment in taking risks. She had loved the feeling of teetering on the edge of danger. Not any more. It was as if the older she got, the stronger her yearning for security became, the desire to lean back and not have to think. And she was sure that Anders felt the same way. They were so alike and knew what the other one was thinking without saying a word out loud. It had always been that way.

  Vivianne lifted the glass to her lips but paused for a moment when she smelled the wine. The scent brought back memories of events that she had sworn to forget. It was all so long ago. She had been a different person, someone she could never be again, not under any circumstances. She was Vivianne now.

  She knew that she needed Anders to keep her from falling again, slidin
g down into that dark hole of memories that made her feel sullied and small.

  Giving one last glance at Erling lying on the sofa, she grabbed her jacket and went out. He was sleeping soundly. He wouldn’t miss her.

  FJÄLLBACKA 1870

  When Karl proposed to her, Emelie was in seventh heaven. She could never have imagined that such a thing would actually happen, even though she’d dreamed about it. During the five years that she’d worked as a maid on his parents’ farm, she had often fallen asleep with the image of Karl’s face in her thoughts. But he was far beyond her reach, and she knew it. Edith’s sharp rebukes had also chased away the last of her dreams. The farmer’s son was not about to marry the maid, not even if she was in the family way.

  Karl had never touched her. He had hardly spoken to her the few times he’d had free from the lightship and had come home to visit. He had merely treated her politely, stepping out of her way if she needed to get past. At the most he had asked after her health but had never given any sign that he felt the same as she did. Edith had called her a fool, telling her to push those thoughts out of her mind and stop being such a dreamer.

  But dreams could come true, and prayers could be answered. One day he had appeared and asked to speak with her. She was frightened, thinking that she’d done something stupid and that he was going to tell her to pack up her belongings and leave the farm. Instead, he had stared at the floor. A lock of his dark hair fell over his eyes, and she had to restrain herself from reaching out to brush it back. Stammering, he had asked whether she might consider entering into marriage with him. She couldn’t believe her ears. She found herself looking him up and down to see whether he was joking. But he went on speaking, telling her that he wanted her to be his wife, and they could be married the very next day. His parents and the pastor had already been informed, so if she accepted his proposal, the whole thing could be arranged at once.

 

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