The path offered a good view of the throng and she scanned it for Karlotta and Dadi. Everywhere she looked there were small heads in colourful bobble hats. The celebration of the nursery’s anniversary with a barbecue at the Reykjavík Family Park and Zoo had generated huge excitement, as she knew to her cost. That morning her children had taken forever to choose what they were going to wear. Karlotta had changed three times and Dadi twice. But so genuine was their delight over this simple outing that Æsa hadn’t liked to chivvy them. After all, it wasn’t as if all work would cease just because she was a little delayed.
The hubbub of screeching children’s voices grew louder as she approached until Æsa felt as if she were in the middle of a seabird colony. Calling Karlotta and Dadi’s names would be pointless over this racket, so she picked her way carefully through the crowd, scanning the faces. There was a constant flow of children back and forth, going to the barbecue empty-handed and coming away with their hands full. Her attention was distracted by trying to make sure they didn’t accidentally smear ketchup or remoulade on her clothes. She made a beeline for the nearest teacher and managed to reach her without incident.
‘Hi!’ The young woman beamed so broadly that all her molars were on show. This was the standard greeting whenever Æsa went to pick up or drop off the kids; an effusive friendliness out of all proportion to the occasion.
‘Hello.’ Æsa tried to respond in kind. ‘I’ve come to collect Karlotta and Dadi. You haven’t seen them, have you?’
‘Oh!’ The over-the-top jollity was replaced by a look of equally exaggerated sorrow, with a comically down-turned mouth. ‘They can’t leave yet! The barbecue’s only just started.’
‘Oh no, they can have a hot dog. I’m not in a hurry. I just wanted to let them know I’m here.’ The last part was almost drowned out by the shrieks of a child whose Frankfurter had fallen out of its bun. The young woman went to comfort the child, then guided him back to the barbecue. Æsa was left standing there, still none the wiser about Karlotta and Dadi’s whereabouts. She turned in a circle but couldn’t see them anywhere. She began to feel anxious, unable to get Thorvaldur’s odd message out of her head, though he hadn’t been in touch again and she hadn’t tried to contact him since that evening. Desperate as she was to know more, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of begging. It was his turn to ring back.
This showed in a nutshell how toxic their relationship had become. Even information that could affect the children’s welfare mattered less than coming off best in their petty little war. Æsa cursed her own stupidity as she carefully elbowed her way out of the crowd to get a better view. Perhaps Karlotta and Dadi had found a bench or some rocks where they could eat sitting down. But she couldn’t see them anywhere. Her anxiety was turning to dread when she spotted Beta, a playmate of Karlotta’s, racing towards the barbecue from the toilets. Æsa gave a sigh of relief. Of course, they must have gone for a pee. Whenever one needed to go, you could be sure the other would be just behind.
‘Beta!’ Æsa called to the girl who waved a mittened hand as she hurried over to her. ‘Is Karlotta in the toilets?’
Beta sniffed. Although there was no wind the day was chilly and the children’s noses were running. ‘No. She’s gone.’ The little girl sniffed again.
‘Gone?’ Æsa wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. ‘Gone where?’
‘Away.’ Beta smiled, clearly unaware of the impact this news was having.
‘Away where?’ The longing to shake the child grew stronger and Æsa had to thrust her hands in her pockets.
‘Just away. She said they were going to see some puppies.’
‘Puppies?’ Æsa realised she was repeating every word the child said. At least it gave her time to think. ‘Where are these puppies?’
‘I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to go.’
‘What do you mean you weren’t allowed to go?’
‘Karlotta said so. The man only wanted them to see.’ It seemed to be dawning on Beta that all was not well. Her eyes flickered from side to side, as if searching for an escape route.
Æsa made an effort to appear calm. It was a strain. ‘Was the man working here at the zoo? Are the puppies here?’
‘No.’
This ambiguous answer was her own fault for asking two questions at once. ‘So the man doesn’t work here at the zoo?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t see him. Only Karlotta did.’ Beta hesitated. ‘And maybe Dadi. But there aren’t any puppies at the zoo. The man had them in his car.’ Beta then leant confidingly towards Æsa. She was clearly oblivious to the gravity of the situation. The school was having a party: nothing bad could happen. ‘He said they mustn’t tell the teachers.’
Æsa gave silent thanks that her hands were in her pockets as the urge to shake the child was becoming unbearable. But she couldn’t disguise her desperation when she spoke again. ‘Where did they go? Which way?’
‘Over there.’ A bobbly mitten pointed back in the direction that Æsa had come from. ‘They went that way.’
Aware that it would be futile to ask a small child how long it had been since her kids had disappeared, Æsa set off at a run. She didn’t waste precious minutes alerting the teachers either. They wouldn’t be much help in the circumstances. The most urgent thing now was to reach the car park in case her children were still there. Or in the car of some man who must surely be up to no good. Her only hope was that the man hadn’t managed to abduct them yet. Or harm them. She couldn’t bear to think in what way.
Over the shrieking of the children Æsa heard someone calling her name. It must be one of the teachers puzzled by her behaviour. She ran faster. If they wanted an explanation, Beta would have to provide it. The thought of how bad they would feel when they realised they had lost Karlotta and Dadi gave her a little burst of extra energy but such was her frantic haste that she tripped over a stone, landing hard on one knee. Two horses watched her without interest. She cared nothing for the pain or the rip in the trousers she had only just bought and could ill afford to ruin. The hot blood trickling down her leg didn’t matter either. Climbing to her feet, she limped the rest of the way.
When the car park finally came into view, Æsa was too breathless to shout. The children’s names emerged as feebly as if they had been standing in front of her. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. She hobbled, still panting, into the half-empty car park, calling their names again, louder as she recovered her breath, peering into one car after another. She couldn’t see any sign of her children, let alone a man with puppies. There were only three cars left to check when she heard a voice calling her name. Not an adult this time but her daughter: ‘Mummy!’
Æsa spun round disbelievingly. She must have misheard; there were countless children in the park and it must be some other little girl calling her mother.
To her indescribable relief, she saw Karlotta and Dadi come half running along the path beside the entrance to the car park, evidently returning from the road. They waved to her, beaming happily. Clearly nothing bad had happened to them and they hadn’t a clue that they had done anything wrong. Yet she had told them over and over again that they must never go anywhere with strangers. Fury overwhelmed her. Though they seemed to have escaped unharmed, it could have ended in disaster.
Æsa limped towards them and they met by the entrance. The children, too young to read the situation, asked if they could get a hot dog, as if nothing were more natural.
She was so beside herself with rage that she stumbled over the words: ‘Where have you been? How many times have I forbidden you to go anywhere with strangers? What were you thinking?’
Karlotta and Dadi stared at her, bewildered, their smiles fading.
Taking a deep breath, Æsa managed to speak more calmly. ‘How could you dream of leaving the others like that? Especially when I’ve told you not to. Over and over again.’
‘Yes but…’ Karlotta didn’t finish the sentence. She screwed up her face as she searched f
or the words to explain. Dadi stood beside her, keeping his eyes fixed on his sister for fear of meeting his mother’s gaze. He was only three years old and could shelter behind the five-year-old Karlotta when things went wrong.
‘No “yes but”. Tell me what happened and why you disobeyed me.’ Æsa’s rage was subsiding with every word. Karlotta’s eyes, so terribly like Thorvaldur’s, gazed up at her from under their fair lashes, glittering with tears which swelled until they were heavy enough to spill down her red cheeks.
‘It wasn’t … a … bad … man,’ she said, fighting sobs. ‘He … had … some puppies. It wasn’t … even … a man…’
Now that her anger had evaporated, Æsa regretted having spoken so sharply. She crouched down, ignoring the stinging of her knee, and wiped her daughter’s cheeks. Her gentle caress opened the floodgates and Karlotta’s tears began to flow in earnest. Æsa hugged her and drew Dadi into her arms as well.
It could have been so much worse.
Æsa stood up, herded the children into the car and set off home. It didn’t occur to her to make a detour to let the teachers know that everything was all right after all.
* * *
The atmosphere was subdued on the way home. Slowly but surely Æsa had managed to prise the story out of Karlotta, though Dadi didn’t say a word. Rather than constantly interrupt her daughter with questions, Æsa had let her tell it her own way, which took time. All she could think of was that this must be connected to Thorvaldur. He’d obviously had good reason to ring and ask her to take extra care of the kids.
To make up for the abrupt end to the festivities, Æsa stopped to buy them each a hot dog. Having seated them on bar stools at a high table, she stepped outside. She wanted to speak to Thorvaldur out of the children’s earshot. At home there was a risk they would overhear any raised voices. To make sure he would respond, she sent him a text: If you dont ring me now im calling the police – its about karlotta and dadi.
He rang immediately. ‘What the hell’s going on? Have you completely lost your mind?’
Æsa ignored this pathetic attempt to pretend nothing was wrong. The fear in his voice gave him away. ‘A man just lured Karlotta and Dadi into his car. You have to tell me why you rang to warn me against exactly this sort of thing.’
‘What do you mean? Didn’t you listen to a word I said? Are you crazy? Can’t you even look after your own children?’ His reaction wasn’t so different from her own when she had found the kids earlier.
‘Shut up, Thorvaldur.’ Æsa paused to see if this had an effect. All she could hear at the other end was his breathing. ‘Of course I’ve warned them. A hundred times. But your friend was too cunning for me. He dressed up as Father Christmas and told them he had some puppies. In their eyes Father Christmas doesn’t count as a man, let alone a bad man. They thought it was safe to go with him. Despite what I’d told them.’
Thorvaldur continued to breathe heavily for a moment, then asked: ‘Didn’t they see his face?’
‘No. I’ve just told you. He was wearing an American Santa Claus outfit. With a white beard and everything. That was all they could describe. For all I know it could have been a woman, though I think that’s unlikely.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yes, Thorvaldur. Jesus. I need hardly explain how badly it could have turned out. Luckily, he didn’t do anything to them, but who knows what he’ll try next time.’ She cleared her throat and continued in a strangled voice, ‘If he tries again.’
‘What exactly did this Father Christmas do?’ Thorvaldur sounded angry, frightened and bewildered all at once.
‘He lay in wait for them during the nursery outing to the Family Park. They’d got out of the coach and were waiting for the others when he lured them over to his car, parked by the entrance. He told them to come back out again when no one was looking and he’d show them his puppies. He forbade them to tell anyone else or bring any other kids with them. They were the only ones he would show the puppies to.’
‘And they did as he said?’
‘Yes. They did as he said.’ Æsa rubbed her forehead. Unsurprisingly, the events of the day seemed to be bringing on a migraine. ‘They’re children. He was Father Christmas. Father Christmas with puppies. Of course they obeyed.’
‘They must be able to describe the car?’
Æsa gave a mocking laugh. ‘Sure they can. It was a car. Not a red one. That’s as detailed as it gets. Believe me, I’ve tried.’ She closed her eyes and rubbed them as well. It wouldn’t help; the migraine was taking hold and nothing but strong painkillers could save her now. ‘They got into the car and he drove off, saying the puppies were nearby but it was too far to walk. He drove around for a bit before bringing them almost all the way back. Then he stopped and said he couldn’t remember where the puppies were. They’d just have to see them later. After that he let them out.’
‘And?’
‘No and. They got out, said goodbye and walked back to the park where I was almost having a heart attack looking for them.’ Æsa wanted to end the conversation. If she left it any longer, her headache would be too bad for her to drive. ‘When he said goodbye he asked them to pass on a greeting. To you.’
‘To me?’ Thorvaldur sounded hoarse.
‘Yes.’ Her own voice was no better. ‘Karlotta was to say hello to you from Vaka.’ Thorvaldur’s gasp was audible. ‘Who the hell is Vaka, Thorvaldur?’ When he didn’t answer, she continued while she was still able to speak: ‘I’m going to call the police. No matter what you say. You can explain to them how you know this man and who Vaka is.’
Æsa hung up. Inside the shop she could see Karlotta and Dadi sitting holding their half-eaten hot dogs, their legs dangling from the high stools. They looked as if they had no appetite. She felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks but didn’t know if it was the headache, or her sore knee, or the relief at having recovered them safely against all the odds.
Chapter 14
Baldur was as cocky, carefree and optimistic as ever. Almost insanely so. He was lounging on the narrow bed, bolted to the floor, which took up most of the room. The inmates of Litla-Hraun received their visitors in old cells that were no longer in use. Freyja hoped the accommodation her brother occupied day in, day out, was larger, more modern and better equipped than these claustrophobic little shoeboxes, but she didn’t dare ask, for fear of being disappointed. The prison buildings were unimaginatively designated House 1, House 2 and so on, so her expectations were low.
She tried unsuccessfully to make herself comfortable on the only chair that would fit in the cell. Baldur was no better off, constantly shifting his long legs as he tried to find a less awkward position. Having visited him here more times than she cared to remember, she knew he wouldn’t succeed. Sometimes, like now, she took the chair, sometimes the bed. She always let him choose.
‘Shouldn’t you be eligible for day release soon?’ Through the narrow window she could see the low-rise settlement of Eyrarbakki. She wondered whether his cell faced the village, the sea or the main road, but didn’t ask. It was preferable to imagine him enjoying a view of the sea than to find out that all he had to look at was the thin stream of traffic travelling to and from Selfoss.
‘I think so. I haven’t really been keeping track but they said it would be sooner rather than later.’ Baldur yawned, apparently unexcited at the prospect of this limited freedom. Then again, his reluctance to discuss it might have been because his extended sentence had led to the temporary loss of this privilege. Freyja had the feeling he found the subject even more embarrassing than she did. She had frequently used up their precious visiting time by repeatedly saying how sorry she was, forcing him to waste as many minutes reassuring her that he didn’t hold it against her. ‘At least I’ve got plenty of time to plan how I’m going to spend my day.’
‘Let me know the moment you hear, so I can take the day off,’ said Freyja. ‘To give you a lift and so on,’ she added hastily, so he wouldn’t think she intended to cramp his style.
Baldur nodded. ‘Will do. Don’t want to have to walk into town.’ He winked at her and yawned again, his interest in the subject now exhausted. You’d have thought he was oblivious to the fact that he was banged up for years on end and only allowed outside for two hours a day. What he did with himself for the rest of his waking hours was a mystery to Freyja. Though of course he filled up the quota of visits allotted to every prisoner, and would have no problem drumming up more visitors if the rules were ever relaxed. Freyja had been lucky to get a slot at such short notice; normally she had to resign herself to a two-week wait. His current girlfriend always took precedence as, naturally, he had rather more to look forward to from her presence than he did from a chat with his sister. But she had flu and couldn’t leave the house, which Freyja interpreted as a sign that their relationship would soon be history. Baldur’s enthusiasm and insouciance were irresistible while you were in his presence, but the spell soon wore off when he wasn’t there, and the less time you spent with him, the shorter its influence lasted.
‘What can you tell me about a prisoner called Jón Jónsson, who’s just been released? He was convicted of the rape and murder of a little girl.’
Baldur’s eyes opened wide. ‘Why are you interested in that piece of shit?’ He unwrapped a toffee from a bag he had brought in with him. Sending food or sweets to prisoners had recently been banned: instead, the inmates were allowed to order them and pay out of their own pockets. This had made Freyja’s life easier since she found it impossible to keep up with Baldur’s fads. One day he was a vegetarian, the next a vegan, then he was into raw food, then he became a sports fanatic and ate nothing but protein powders, while at other times all he wanted was meat and sweets. Now the parcels she brought him were restricted to inedible items like books, clothes, computer games and other forms of entertainment, some of them less than salubrious. She never came empty-handed, though her parcels weren’t delivered to Baldur until long after she’d left. Choosing a present was rarely a problem because he was always obsessed with something, though like his girlfriends, these obsessions never lasted long. Baldur popped the toffee in his mouth and asked as he chewed: ‘Has he reoffended already?’
The Reckoning Page 13
