The Hidden Child (20 page)

‘You have to admit she was awfully convincing when she assured me that she was innocent.’

‘She certainly was. That kid is going to get an Oscar when she grows up. But keep in mind that Belinda can be just as convincing. It’s not surprising that Pernilla believed her. You can’t honestly swear that you wouldn’t have done the same.’

‘Okay, okay,’ said Dan sullenly. ‘But Pernilla should have phoned the friend’s mother to double check. That’s what I would have done.’

‘Yes, you probably would have. And from now on, Pernilla will, too.’

‘Why are you talking about Mamma?’ Belinda came down the stairs, still wearing her nightgown and with her hair sticking out all over. She’d refused to get out of bed ever since they’d brought her home from Erica and Patrik’s on Saturday morning, hung over and apparently filled with remorse. Most of the remorse had since vanished, replaced by even more of the anger that had become her constant companion.

‘We’re not talking specifically about your mother,’ said Dan wearily, sensing that another row was imminent.

‘Are you talking shit about my mother again?’ snarled Belinda, turning on Anna.

Casting a resigned look in Dan’s direction, Anna said calmly, ‘I’ve never said anything bad about your mother – and you know it. So don’t speak to me in that tone of voice.’

‘I’ll use whatever tone of voice I like!’ yelled Belinda. ‘This is my house, not yours! So you can just take your fucking kids and get out of here!’

Dan took a step forward, his eyes flashing. ‘Don’t talk that way to Anna! This is her home too. The same goes for Adrian and Emma. And if you don’t like it . . .’ The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he realized it was the worst thing he could have said.

‘No, I don’t like it! I’m going to pack my bags and go home to Mamma! And that’s where I’m going to stay until that woman and her kids move out!’ Belinda turned on her heel and rushed upstairs. Both Dan and Anna gave a start when the door to her room slammed shut.

‘Maybe she’s right, Dan,’ said Anna faintly. ‘Maybe everything has gone a little too fast. I mean, she didn’t have much time to get used to the idea before we turned up and invaded her home and her life.’

‘She’s seventeen, for God’s sake. And she’s behaving like a five-year-old.’

‘You have to understand Belinda’s point of view. It can’t have been easy for her. She was a sensitive age when you and Pernilla separated, and . . .’

‘Oh, thank you very much. As if I need that whole guilt trip on my shoulders again. I know it was my fault that we got divorced, so you don’t have to stand there and throw it in my face.’

With that he walked brusquely past Anna and out the front door. For the second time a door slammed so loudly that the windowpanes rattled. For several seconds Anna stood motionless at the kitchen counter. Then she sank down on to the floor and cried.

Chapter 16
Fjällbacka 1943

‘I hear the Germans finally got their mitts on the doctor’s boy.’

Vilgot chuckled with glee as he hung his coat on the hook in the hallway. He handed his briefcase to Frans, who set it in its usual place, leaning against a chair.

‘It’s about time. Treason, I call it, what he’s been up to, but people are like sheep. They just follow the crowd and bleat on command. Only somebody like me, who dares to think independently, can see things the way they really are. And trust me, Axel Frankel was a traitor. I hope they’ll make short work of him.’

Vilgot went into the parlour and sank into his favourite armchair. Frans followed on his heels, and Vilgot looked up at him.

‘Hey, where’s my drink? Why are you so slow about it today?’ He sounded cross, and Frans hurried over to the drinks cabinet to pour a shot for his father. It had been their routine ever since he was a little boy. His mother hadn’t liked the fact that Frans was asked to handle liquor at such a young age, but as usual, she hadn’t had much say in the matter.

‘Sit down, boy, sit down.’ Gripping his glass firmly, Vilgot magnanimously motioned towards the armchair next to him. Frans caught a waft of alcohol as he sat down. The drink he’d poured for his father was most likely not the first he’d had that day.

‘Your father has made an excellent deal today, let me tell you.’ Vilgot leaned forward, and the alcoholic fumes filled Frans’s nostrils. ‘I’ve signed a contract with a German company. An exclusive contract. I’m going to be their sole supplier in Sweden. They said they were having a hard time finding business partners, and I believe it.’ Vilgot chuckled, his large belly shaking. He downed his drink and held out the glass to Frans. ‘Pour me another.’ His eyes were glazed from the alcohol. Frans’s hand shook slightly as he took the glass. It was still shaking as he poured the aromatic spirit, spilling a few drops.

‘Pour one for yourself,’ said Vilgot. It sounded more like a command than an invitation. Which it was. Frans set down his father’s full glass and reached for an empty one for himself. His hand was no longer shaking as he filled it to the brim. Focusing all his attention on the effort, he carried the two glasses over to his father. Vilgot raised his glass as Frans sat down again. ‘Bottoms up, lad.’

Frans felt the liquid burning his throat, all the way down to his stomach, where it settled like a warm lump. His father smiled. A trickle of alcohol was dribbling down his chin.

‘Where’s your mother?’ Vilgot asked in a low voice.

Frans stared at a spot on the wall. ‘She’s visiting Grandma and won’t be home until late.’ His voice sounded muffled and tinny, as if it were coming from somebody else. Someone outside.

‘Great. So the two of us can talk in peace. Go ahead, son – have another.’

Frans was conscious of his father’s eyes on him as he went to refill his glass. This time he didn’t leave the bottle in the cabinet but brought it back with him. Vilgot smiled appreciatively and held up his glass for more.

‘You’re a good lad, Frans.’

Again the alcohol seared his throat before transforming itself into a pleasant feeling somewhere in his midriff. The contours of everything around him began to dissolve. He felt he was floating in limbo, between reality and unreality.

Vilgot’s voice grew softer. ‘I can earn thousands of
riksdaler
on this deal, just in the next few years. And if the Germans keep increasing their demand for armaments, I stand to make significantly more. Maybe even millions. They’ve promised to put me in touch with other companies that have a need for our services. Now that I’ve got my foot in the door . . .’ Vilgot’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. He licked his lips. ‘It’s going to be a successful business that you take over one day, Frans.’ He reached out to place his hand on his son’s leg. ‘The day will come when you can tell everybody in Fjällbacka to take a flying leap. After the Germans take power, we’ll be in charge. Then we’ll have more money than those idiots could ever dream of. So have a drink with your father, and let’s toast the bright future!’ Vilgot raised his glass and clinked it against Frans’s, which he’d again filled to the brim.

The feeling of well-being continued to spread through Frans’s chest as he drank another toast with his father.

Chapter 17

Gösta had just started a round of golf on his computer when he heard Mellberg’s footsteps in the corridor. He quickly turned off the game and picked up a report, trying to look as though he was deeply immersed in reading it. Mellberg’s steps came closer, but there was something different about them. And what was that strange grumbling sound? Gösta rolled back his desk chair so he could stick his head out into the hall. The first thing he saw was Ernst, padding along in front of Mellberg with his long tongue hanging out, as usual. Behind him came an oddly hunched figure who was laboriously shuffling forward. He looked a lot like Mellberg, and yet he didn’t.

‘What the hell are you staring at?’

The voice and tone definitely belonged to his boss.

‘What happened to you?’ asked Gösta. By now Annika was peering out from the kitchen where she was busy feeding Maja.

Mellberg muttered something inaudible.

‘What?’ said Annika. ‘What did you say? I missed it.’

Mellberg glowered at her and then said, ‘I’ve been taking salsa lessons. Anything wrong with that?’

Gösta and Annika looked at each other in astonishment. Then they struggled to keep a straight face.

‘Well?’ shouted Mellberg. ‘Any funny remarks? Anyone? Because there’s plenty of opportunity to cut salaries here at the station.’ Then he slammed the door to his office.

For several seconds Annika and Gösta stared at the closed door, but then they could restrain themselves no longer. The pair of them laughed until they cried, but they did it as quietly as possible.

Having checked that Mellberg’s door was still closed, Gösta slipped over to the kitchen and whispered to Annika: ‘Did he say he’d been taking salsa lessons? Did he really say that?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Annika, wiping the tears on the sleeve of her sweater. Maja stared at them in fascination as she sat at the table with a plate in front of her.

‘But why? What on earth’s got into him?’ said Gösta incredulously as he pictured the scene in his mind.

‘Well, it’s the first I’ve heard about it, at any rate.’ Still laughing, Annika shook her head and then sat down to carry on feeding Maja.

‘Did you see how stiff he was? He looked like that creature in
Lord of the Rings
. Gollum. Isn’t that his name?’ Gösta did his best to imitate how Mellberg was moving, and Annika put her hand over her mouth to keep from howling with laughter.

‘Salsa! That must have given Mellberg’s body a real shock. He hasn’t done any exercise in . . . well, ever. It’s a mystery to me how he ever passed the physical part of the police training.’

‘For all we know, he might have been a great athlete in his younger days.’ Annika thought about what she’d just said and then shook her head. ‘But I don’t think so. Good Lord, this is the entertainment highlight of the day. Mellberg at a salsa class! Whatever next?’ She lifted a spoonful of food to Maja’s mouth, but the child stubbornly turned her head away. ‘This little one doesn’t want to eat anything. But if I don’t get her to take at least a few spoonfuls, they’ll never trust me with her again,’ she sighed and made another attempt, but Maja’s mouth remained as impenetrable as Fort Knox.

‘Shall I try?’ asked Gösta, reaching for the spoon. Annika looked at him in surprise.

‘You? Okay, go ahead. But don’t get your hopes up.’ Gösta didn’t reply as he changed places with Annika, sitting down next to Maja. He dumped off half of the huge mound of food that Annika had put on the spoon and then raised it in the air. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane.’ He sailed the spoon around like a plane and was rewarded with Maja’s undivided attention. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane, flying straight into your . . .’ Maja’s mouth opened as if on cue, and the plane with its load of spaghetti and meat sauce went in for a landing.

‘Mmm . . . that was good,’ said Gösta, putting a little more food on the spoon. ‘Chugga, chugga, chug, now it’s a train coming. Chugga, chugga, chug and straight into the tunnel.’ Maja’s mouth opened again and the spaghetti entered the tunnel.

‘I can’t believe it!’ said Annika, gaping. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ said Gösta modestly. But he smiled proudly as a race car drove in with spoon number three.

Annika sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Gösta slowly emptied the plate in front of Maja, who swallowed every bite.

‘You know what, Gösta?’ said Annika. ‘Life is so unfair sometimes.’

‘Have the two of you thought about adopting?’ asked Gösta without looking at her. ‘In my day it wasn’t very common. But today I wouldn’t hesitate. Seems like every other kid is adopted.’

‘We’ve talked about it,’ said Annika, drawing circles on the tablecloth with the tip of her finger. ‘But nothing has ever come of it. We’ve done our best to fill our lives with things other than children . . . but . . .’

‘It’s not too late,’ said Gösta. ‘If you start now, it might not take too long. And the colour of the child’s skin doesn’t matter, so choose the country with the shortest waiting list. There are so many kids who need a home. If I was a child, I’d thank my lucky stars if you and Lennart adopted me.’

Annika swallowed hard and looked down at her finger moving over the tablecloth. Gösta’s words had awakened something inside of her, something that she and Lennart had somehow suppressed the past few years. Maybe they were afraid. After all the miscarriages, all the hopes that had been shattered again and again. But maybe they were strong enough now. Maybe they could do it, maybe they dared. Because the sense of longing was still there, as strong as ever. Nothing seemed to suppress that longing to hold a child in their arms, to have a child to love.

‘Well, I’d better see about doing some work,’ said Gösta, getting to his feet without looking at her. He patted Maja on the head. ‘At least she ate something, so Patrik won’t have to worry that she’s starving when he leaves her here with us next time.’