The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg
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Nathalie was home. He had thought about her all evening after having dinner with his parents. Nathalie with the long blond hair and the freckles on her nose and arms. Nathalie who smelled of the sea and summer. After all these years he could still feel her warmth in his embrace. It was true what they said: you never forget your first love. And those three summers on Gråskär could only be described as magical. He had gone over to see her as often as he could, and together they had made the small island their own.
But occasionally she had scared him. Her clear laughter would suddenly come to an abrupt halt, and then she seemed to disappear into a darkness where he couldn’t reach her. She was never able to put words to the feeling that came over her, and eventually he learned to leave her alone whenever it happened. During that last summer the darkness had come more and more often, and she had slowly slipped away from him. In August, when he waved goodbye to her as she boarded the train for Stockholm with her luggage, he knew that it was over.
Since then, they hadn’t been in touch at all. The following year he had tried to phone her when her parents passed away, one dying very soon after the other, but he got through only to her voicemail. She never called him back. And the cottage on Gråskär stood empty. He knew that his mother and father went out there once in a while to look after the place, and that Nathalie occasionally sent money to pay them for their efforts. But she had never come back, and over time his memories of her had faded.
Now Nathalie had returned. Matte stared into space as he sat at his desk. His suspicions about the spa project funding were getting stronger, and there were things he needed to tend to. But thoughts of Nathalie kept intruding. When the afternoon sun began sinking over the Tanumshede council building, he gathered up all the documents lying in front of him. He had to see Nathalie. With resolute steps he left his office, pausing to exchange a few words with Erling before he headed out to his car. His hand was shaking as he put the key in the ignition and started up the engine.
‘You’re home so early, darling!’
Vivianne came to greet Erling, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. He couldn’t resist catching hold of her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close.
‘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