The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg
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Vivianne abruptly stopped rubbing. ‘What sort of questions?’
Grateful that the pain had stopped, at least temporarily, Erling drew in a long breath.
‘Mostly stuff about Mats and what he was like at work. What we knew about him, and whether he was good at his job.’
‘What did you tell them?’ Vivianne was again massaging his back. Thankfully she had moved on to a different spot.
‘Well, there wasn’t much to say. Mats was so reserved, we never really got to know him. But this afternoon I went through the accounts, and I have to say that he was certainly meticulous. That’s going to make it easier for me to take control of the finances until we can find a replacement.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do a great job.’ Vivianne was now massaging the back of his neck in a way that gave him goose pimples. ‘So he didn’t leave behind any question marks?’
‘No, from what I could see, everything was in perfect order.’ Erling felt himself dozing off again as Vivianne’s fingers continued their work.
Dan was sitting at the kitchen table and staring out of the window. The house was quiet. The children were in school or at the day-care centre. By now he’d usually be at work, but it was his day off. He’d have preferred to be working. Lately his stomach started to hurt the minute he was on his way home, because the whole house reminded him of what they had lost. Not just their baby, but also the life that they’d shared together. In his heart, he had begun to think that it might be gone for ever, and he didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like him to feel as utterly helpless as he did right now, and he hated the feeling.
His heart ached for Emma and Adrian. They couldn’t understand why their mother refused to get out of bed, why she wouldn’t talk to them or kiss them or even look up when they brought the drawings they’d made to show her. They knew that Anna had been in a car accident and that their little brother had gone to heaven. But they couldn’t comprehend why that would make their mother lie so still, endlessly staring out of the window. And nothing that Dan did or said could make up for the emptiness they felt. They liked him, but they loved their mother.
With each passing day, Emma was becoming more withdrawn while Adrian got more aggressive. Both were reacting in their own way. Dan had talked with the teachers at the day-care centre about the fact that Adrian had begun hitting and biting the other children. And Emma’s teacher had phoned to discuss the changes in her; she’d gone from a lively, cheerful child to one who sat through classes without saying a word. What was Dan supposed to do? They needed Anna, not him.
At least he was able to comfort his own three daughters. They came to him with their questions and seeking hugs. They were sad and upset, but not in the same way as Emma and Adrian. Besides, his girls went to stay with their mother Pernilla every other week, and there they could escape the sorrow that hovered like a heavy blanket over his whole life.
Pernilla had been a great help. Their divorce had not been without its problems, but since the accident she had been amazing. It was largely due to her that Lisen, Belinda, and Malin were coping so well. Emma and Adrian had no one else. Naturally, Erica had tried to help, but she had her hands full taking care of the twins, and it wasn’t easy for her to make time for her niece and nephew. He realized that, and was grateful for the effort she made.
In the end, he and Emma and Adrian were left alone with their paralysing fear about what was going to happen to Anna. Sometimes he wondered if she would spend the rest of her life staring out of the window. The days would become weeks and then years as Anna simply lay there, slowly getting older. He knew that it was his own dark thoughts making him feel this way. The doctors had said that she would gradually come out of her depression, but that it had to run its course. The problem was that he didn’t believe them. Several months had now passed since the accident, and it seemed as if Anna was drifting further and further away.
Outside, a few titmice were pecking at the balls of suet that the girls had insisted on hanging up for the birds, despite the time of year. He watched them, enviously thinking how carefree their lives must be. Concerned only with the basic needs: eating, sleeping, and reproducing. No emotions, no complicated relationships. No sorrow.
Then he thought about Matte. Erica had phoned to tell him what had happened. Dan knew his parents well. Many times he and Gunnar had gone out in the boat, sitting there telling stories, and Gunnar had always talked of his son with such pride. Dan also knew who Matte was because they’d gone to the same school, although Mats had been in Erica’s class, not his. But they’d never really been friends. Gunnar and Signe must be suffering terribly. That thought cast his own grief in a new light. If it felt this bad to lose a son that he’d never had a chance to know, how much worse it must be for them to lose a son that they had followed through life and watched grow into a man.
The titmice suddenly took off. They didn’t fly off together but instead scattered in all directions. The next second Dan saw what had caused such an abrupt departure. The neighbour’s cat had sauntered into the yard and was now looking up at the tree. This time the cat was out of luck.
Dan stood up. He couldn’t just sit here all day. He had to try talking to Anna again, urge her to rouse herself from the dead and rejoin the living. Slowly he headed upstairs.
‘How’d it go, Martin?’ asked Patrik as he leaned back in his chair. They had once again convened in the kitchen to discuss the investigation.
Martin shook his head. ‘I haven’t got much to report. I contacted most of the people that we missed yesterday, but none of them saw or heard a thing. Except maybe …’
‘What?’ said Patrik. Everyone’s attention was fixed on Martin.
‘I don’t know if this is any use. The old guy isn’t quite right in the head.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘Okay. There’s a man named Grip who lives on the same floor as Sverin. As I said, he seems a bit nuts.’ Martin tapped his temple. ‘And he’s got a load of smelly cats living in his flat …’ He took a deep breath. ‘Grip said that one of his cats saw a car early Saturday morning. About the same time that the other neighbour, Leandersson, was awakened by a sound that might have been a gunshot.’
Gösta sniggered. ‘His cat saw a car?’
‘Quiet, Gösta,’ said Patrik. ‘Okay, Martin, go on. What else did he say?’
‘That’s all. I didn’t really take him seriously, since he seemed so out of it.’
‘From the mouths of children and fools we will hear the truth spoken,’ murmured Annika as she continued taking notes.
Martin shrugged dejectedly. ‘That’s all I have to report.’
‘Good job,’ said Patrik, wanting to encourage him. ‘Door-to-door enquiries are never easy. People either exaggerate what they might have heard, or they’ve noticed nothing whatsoever.’
‘Yes, this job would definitely be a lot easier without witnesses,’ muttered Gösta.
‘What about you two?’ Patrik turned to Gösta and Paula, who were