Betrayal Page 10

  ‘What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?’

  He looked around. There was an old abandoned oar next to him with only half the blade left. Her hands were clutching the edge of the wharf but he prised up her fingers so she had to let go. The next time he saw her head above the surface he shoved the oar against her shoulder and forced her back down. Her deceitful hands thrashed above the surface but vanished. Then she started moving out, backwards; she was trying to escape by swimming out of reach.

  The water closed around him. The cold didn’t touch him. Quickly he was at her side and shoved her head under the water. He fought off her thrashing arms and locked his legs around her to get extra leverage. It might have taken ten minutes; time did not exist. Only the feeling that she slowly but surely was ceasing to resist, had submitted to his will and given in.

  And then the voice from somewhere that suddenly broke into his consciousness.

  ‘Hello! Hello! Do you need help? I’m coming.’

  She listened carefully while he was in the shower. When she heard him pull shut the shower door, she hurried into his office and copied the letters on the fax. Which of them would best suit her purpose she didn’t know yet; she would take them with her and read them somewhere in peace and quiet when he thought she had gone to work.

  She left only a note on the kitchen table – ‘Going to work now, can pick up Axel today so you can work in peace and quiet.’ – and with the originals back in the gun cabinet and the papers she needed stuffed into her briefcase, she pulled on her coat and left the house.

  He was still in the shower.

  Without consciously deciding which direction she would take, she drove out towards Värmdö, turned off on the road towards Gustavsberg and pulled into a parking space.

  My love,

  Every minute, every moment I am wherever you are. Merely the knowledge that you exist makes me happy. I live for the brief times we have together. I know that what we’re doing is wrong, that we shouldn’t feel the way we do, but how could I ever say no? I don’t know how many times I’ve decided to try and forget you, but then you stand there in front of me and I just can’t. If everything came out I would probably lose my job, you would lose your family, everything would be chaos. And yet I can’t stop loving you. The instant I pray that all this had never happened, I’m scared to death that my prayer might be answered. I realise that I am ready to lose everything as long as I can be with you.

  I love you, your L

  The nausea grew stronger with every word she read. She had a parasite inside and she felt like puking, turning herself inside out to get rid of it. In an unguarded moment it had forced its way in and taken over her whole system, poisoned her family, and yet this was not punishable by law. There wasn’t one line in the law books that could regulate the crime that had been committed. This woman had crushed a family and turned a child’s parents against each other; the damage she had caused was unforgivable and could never be repaired.

  She scanned one of the other letters but couldn’t go on. The words she held in her hands consumed all the oxygen in the car, it was no longer possible to breathe. She tossed them onto the passenger seat and climbed out of the car to get some air.

  She had a prickly sensation in her left arm.

  Leaning forward with her eyes closed, she stood there with her hands flat on the bonnet. A car approached from the direction of Gustavsberg and she straightened up again. The last thing she wanted was for someone to stop and ask how she was. For anyone to see her at all.

  When the car went past she saw the letters through the windscreen. They lay there in her car and she hated them, hated each and every black word printed on the white paper. Hated the fact that they were the same letters of the alphabet that she used, that she would always have to use.

  Somewhere in the darkness she wondered about the passion that Henrik had managed to awaken in the other woman.

  Why him, of all people?

  What was it she saw?

  Had she herself ever loved in the way that the words described? Maybe at first, but if so she couldn’t remember. They had once, back when everything was different, decided to live their lives together, and to seal their decision they had brought a child into the world, a lifelong responsibility. And now, just because he was feeling a bit randy, it was all going to be shattered, all feeling of companionship abolished. As long as he could screw Axel’s day-care teacher and get away with it, everything would be fine.

  Fucking pig.

  The anger came over her again and the prickling in her left arm subsided.

  She was all decisiveness again.

  She got into the car and picked up the first letter.

  It was hard to believe that such a little poet was hidden behind that fey smile that greeted them every morning. On the other hand, the letter was perfect, didn’t need the least bit of editing. And it was really eye-opening that she was ready to lose everything. That’s what it said in black and white, and that was precisely what was going to happen.

  Your prayer will be granted, little Linda, it most certainly will.

  She looked at the clock. It was already a quarter past ten and time to drive back. By this time they would no doubt have set off on their picnic in the woods.

  She started the car, made a U-turn, and drove back towards the day-care centre.

  To be on the safe side, she left the car in the car park outside Ica and walked the last bit. No one could see her car in the vicinity of the day-care centre just now, no one would see her at all if it was avoidable. The playground at the back was deserted, the only things moving were the black tyres on their chains, swinging lightly in the breeze; otherwise everything was still. She wondered whether all the other children had gone too. That would definitely be best, as long as they hadn’t locked all the doors behind them.

  The street door to Axel’s section was locked. She continued around the corner, passing the helter-skelter, and from a distance she could see that the door to the kitchen was held ajar with a blue plastic crate. Maybe Ines was busy preparing the afternoon snack. She walked the last bit to the door and listened at the opening. There was no sound other than a radio, and it seemed to be playing its music to an empty room.

  If anyone happened to see her from one of the windows, she couldn’t just stand there hesitating, she had to act as though it was completely normal for her to be at her son’s day-care centre at five minutes past eleven on a Friday morning. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if someone asked. Finding a reasonable explanation for her presence was the least of her worries.

  She opened the door and went inside. The kitchen was completely empty. Only three loaves of rye bread wrapped in plastic and a packet of Marlboro Lights on the stainless steel workbench in the middle of the room disturbed the order. The sound of a flushing toilet revealed where Ines was, and Eva hurried out into the corridor and down to Kerstin’s office. No one in sight. She dashed past the staff room and the toddlers’ section and in through the wide-open doors. Then she pulled them closed as quietly as she could and locked them. If anyone showed up, the locked doors would give her a few seconds’ respite. She was actually just here to leave a message for Kerstin, and that was all anyone would see her doing if they unexpectedly interrupted her.

  She went over to the desk.

  She had never been a computer expert, but she should be able to work out how to start one of the computers. She put down her briefcase, pressed a button, and sat down in the chair to wait for the machine to boot up. Right in front of her was a notice-board with this autumn’s group pictures from the four day-care sections. About sixty children and the staff that took care of them. Axel sitting crosslegged on the floor and just behind him the snake who had stolen his secure life. She stood up, leaned over the desk and regarded her enemy. Her blonde hair down over her shoulders. And that fucking smile. She wouldn’t be smiling much longer.

  She sat back down.

  A window had appeared on the screen that asked for
her username and password. She keyed in Linda Persson and clicked down to password.

  Usually three attempts were allowed; that’s how it was with the server at work, at least.

  Henrik. Please check your password. Axel. Wrong again. Bitch. Please contact community technical support.

  She looked up at the notice-board again. Somewhere they must have the password written down so they wouldn’t have to look it up in the internal catalogue, but maybe they knew it by heart. She picked up the phone and punched zero.

  ‘School Board headquarters.’

  ‘Hi, Kerstin Evertsson from Kortbacken pre-school. I’ve forgotten the number for computer technical support.’

  ‘Four zero eleven. Shall I connect you?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  She hung up. She could ring internally herself to minimise the risk of arousing suspicion. She lifted the receiver and dialled the number.

  ‘Computer support.’

  ‘Yes, hi, this is Linda Persson from Kortbacken preschool. We have a problem with our computer here and none of us can get into our email. It’s something with the password.’

  ‘I see, well, that’s odd. What did you say your name was?’

  ‘Linda Persson.’

  The silence on the other end lasted a little too long.

  ‘Can I call you back?’

  The question made her hesitate. Would Ines in the kitchen hear the phone ring?

  ‘Sure, but I’m in a bit of a hurry.’

  ‘I’ll ring in a couple of minutes.’

  What choice did she have?

  ‘OK.’

  She put back the receiver but lifted it and pressed down the button with her finger instead. The shorter the ring the better.

  The seconds dragged by.

  Her sudden nervousness was consuming more energy than she could afford. How long would she be able to last without some sleep? Was it possible that she had been unlucky enough that the man she had talked to knew Linda, that he could hear it wasn’t Linda on the line?

  And then the phone rang.

  ‘Kortbacken pre-school, Linda Persson.’

  ‘Yes, this is computer support. Now, let’s see. I’ve cleaned things up a little so there shouldn’t be any problem. You just have to type a new password on the line and then confirm it three times in the dialogue boxes that come up afterwards. OK?’

  ‘That’s great. Thanks for your help.’

  ‘No problem. That’s what we’re here for.’

  Uh-huh.

  She hung up the phone and tried to gather her wits again.

  Linda’s new password. That wasn’t so hard.

  She smiled to herself and typed the word in the dialogue box and then confirmed it three times according to the instructions.

  And then she was in.

  She quickly scrolled down through the inbox but couldn’t find any mail from Henrik. Amongst the sent emails there was none to his address either. Either they only delivered their fucking letters by hand or else she used another email address when she was out seducing the kids’ fathers. She was probably afraid of losing her job, that little bitch.

  Ha!

  She clicked on ‘Write a new message,’ opened her briefcase and took out the original letter and the address lists for the children in the day-care. It took her only a few minutes to type out the letter, even though she added a few typos, and then she started reading through the address list. Simon’s pappa looked pretty good, he would get one. And then Jakob’s pappa, that might make his wife less interested in organising the planning meetings before the damned Stone-Age camp.

  She clicked on ‘Send’ and they were off.

  There, Linda. It’ll be very interesting to see how you explain this.

  She turned off the computer, stuffed the letters back in her briefcase, and was just about to get up. Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the corridor outside, and she held her breath. The next moment the door handle was pushed down. She looked around. The room had no hiding places. The sound of keys rattling. With no time to think she slipped quickly out of the chair and crawled under the desk. The next instant the door opened, and she saw a pair of feet in indoor sandals approaching. As if the risk of being caught would be less if she closed her eyes, she shut them tight. At least she wouldn’t have to see the expression on Ines’s face if she found her under the desk. That mustn’t happen!

  The sound of paper being picked up on the desk above her head. Had she taken everything? What if she had forgotten something? Or what if Ines had to throw something in the wastebasket squeezed in next to her under the desk? Of course, there was absolutely no reasonable explanation for why she was under there. Why had she hidden? She was just leaving a message for Kerstin. If Ines saw her she would be lost. Her revenge would be revealed as soon as the email was read by the recipients. Good Lord, what had she done? A sudden sound made her open her eyes in pure terror. Ines’s feet were only a few centimetres from her own. And then that sound again, longer this time. Her mind refused to decipher what she was hearing; maybe it was only a sound effect a second before the world found out about her miserable attempt. Then the feet in front of her hurried to the door and at the same instant her brain released the information: it was a doorbell she had heard. As soon as Ines left she crept out, her legs wobbly. She cast a glance at the desk to make sure she hadn’t left any papers and then hurried toward the nearest exit, the one through Axel’s section. The fatigue could no longer be held back, it felt like being inside a glass bubble; her world was shielded from what had once been called reality. The fear of being caught had used up the last of her adrenaline, which right now was the only thing keeping her on her feet. To keep going, she would have to force herself to risk sleeping for a while. Maybe in the car? Maybe if she drove off and parked somewhere safe, where nobody would find her?

  She got into the car and started it.

  A few hours’ sleep.

  She had to sleep.

  First, sleep for a while and then she would drive home and put together a really nice Friday night dinner for her family.

  He lay naked in the bed. The flat was cleaned and neat, he had only left the sheet untouched. The walls of the room were bare; everything that had hung there when he woke up this morning was gone. All that was left was a smouldering heap of ashes down by Årstaviken. And somewhere in Karolinska Hospital lay a body, but it no longer had anything to do with him. It meant as little to him as it had done three years and five months before, before he knew that it existed.

  Soon it too would be ashes.

  But his body was alive. For the first time it was alive and really alert. No longer like an enemy that he constantly had to deny, restrain, force back. All longing was suddenly permitted. The desire pulsing inside him was not a threat but a basis for all the fantastic things that awaited him.

  He put his hand on his neck, then ran it slowly down over his chest and closed his eyes. Followed the memory of her hand and continued down over his belly. Just like this she had touched him. Just like this her hands had liberated him.

  Why didn’t she call?

  The phone lay on the floor next to him at a right angle to the rug, and he no longer knew how many times he had looked at it, placed his hand on it as if it could reveal how much longer he would have to wait.

  He wanted so much. He wanted so much and finally it was all possible, and yet it was almost more than he could bear to sit and wait. It was like torture.

  He thought about all the wonderful possibilities that their meeting had created. Everything they could do together. Everything he had dreamed that he would do with Anna. It had all been taken away from him, and now he had been given a new chance. He would start working again, it shouldn’t be difficult to get his job back as a postman, but that was only the beginning. Now he would realise his dream and take that course in trigonometry. He would sign up for it on Monday.

  Why didn’t she call?

  He got up and went into the kitchen. The on
ly thing edible in the refrigerator was a sausage wrapped in plastic with processed risotto. The date stamp said that it should have been eaten no later than the day before, but that couldn’t be helped. He dumped the contents into a saucepan.

  How could he have been so stupid not to ask for her phone number? What if she didn’t dare ring? What if she thought he wasn’t interested since he had fallen asleep without asking for her phone number? Damn it, he didn’t even know her last name. What must she think?

  It was so strange that they hadn’t talked more. But actually he knew why. They had so much to say to each other that they chose to remain silent.

  After all, they had all the time in the world.

  What if she had been sitting there, hesitating with the receiver in her hand and didn’t dare call? The thought made his stomach knot up. What an idiot he was for not asking! The only thing he knew about her was her first name. Her first name and the fact that he would never leave her. If he had to turn all of Stockholm upside down he would find her.

  The thought of not knowing where she was was unbearable. If he didn’t hear from her soon, it would come over him again, but for the time being he was safe. Her touch was still all over his skin, protecting him.

  But for how long?

  He had just put the first spoonful of risotto in his mouth when the phone rang. He rushed over to the sink, spat out the food and rinsed his mouth. He then dashed to the phone in the next room. Two rings.

  Everything he had practised, everything he had planned to say, was all gone.

  Four rings.

  ‘Jonas.’

  ‘Hi Jonas, this is Yvonne Palmgren at Karolinska. I just wanted to hear how things were going for you now.’

  He sat in silence and felt the rage growing. There was nothing he wanted to say to this woman. She was ringing from another life that he had left behind. Nobody but Linda had the right to call him, no one had the right to block the line.

  That bloody woman at the other end had asked him to let go and move on, and that was precisely what he had done. He had absolutely no obligations to report his feelings to her; he had done precisely what she asked him to do.