There's no place like HOME (Emma Frost Book 8) (16 page)

Jesper shook the spray can and sprayed the shoes, coloring them red, making sure it was even all over. He didn’t want them to look cheap, or even homemade. Then, he set them to dry.

While waiting, Jesper looked at the listing on his computer…that lovely yellow house that now had the sign across its picture online that said that sweet enchanting word: SOLD.

It had taken some time for the young couple to get the loan through the bank, and it almost fell through at one point. It had been quite the drama. But now, the house was finally theirs, and they were receiving the keys by the end of this week. The house had been empty for two years, so they could take over right away.

Jesper could hardly wait.

It had been three weeks since his last kill, and he was getting hungry. It had been hard to restrain himself. It was like Pandora’s Box. He couldn’t close it again. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to kill again, and even having to wait till the end of the week required all of his restraint, all of his self-control and discipline.

Ten hours later, he picked up the shoes and checked if the paint was dry. It was. He picked up the glue gun that was all warmed up and sat at the kitchen table. He grabbed the bag of large red sequins and dropped them on the table. Carefully, he placed a dab of hot glue on the tip of the shoe.

Don’t use too much, or it’ll look ugly
.
Don’t want to have to start all over like the last time, do we?

With a pair of tweezers, he picked up a sequin and placed it in the glue.

Place them as close together as possible, but don't shove them together, you idiot!

Once the first was on, the rest were easier. Jesper placed another dab of hot glue, then placed a sequin on that as well. Then he smiled, while continuing. Soon, he was singing:

Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy


When you're born to be a sissy


Without the vim and verve

But I could change my habits


Never more be scared of rabbits


If I only had the nerve

I'm afraid there's no denying

I'm just an awful dandy-lion


A fate I don't deserve

But I could show my prowess


Be a lion, not a mouse


If I only had the nerve

The shoes were coming along fine now. Slowly, those boring ordinary black shoes became sparkling and red, looking like those from a fairy tale.

“Oh, you’re going to look so pretty, my angel, wearing the ruby red shoes from your dreams. Never prettier…never prettier, they’ll write in the papers. Yes, they will. They’ll write that she was so beautiful…quiet and peaceful, naked, dressed in nothing but the most enchanting ruby red slippers, lying on top of the bed in her new home. There certainly is no place to die like in your home. East or west, home is best. Isn’t it, dearie? It sure is. It sure is.”

Jesper lifted the sparkling shoes into the air, and then shook them to see if any sequins were loose. He held them up to the light and smiled.

Just try and stay out of my way. Just try! I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!

43

August 2014

D
R.
S
ONNICHSEN CAME
every afternoon all week. She spent hours with Maya in the living room, going through what she remembered and what she didn’t, taking notes and assessing her.

I was just thrilled. Maya seemed to be doing much better already. She hadn’t come home crying again, and she looked forward to spending time with Dr. Sonnichsen. I had no idea how long we would have her, but I was hoping it would be a long time.

On Friday, she arrived, as usual, right before Maya came home from school, and we all had afternoon tea together. Then, they moved to the living room and began their work.

I had decided not to meddle, but was incredibly curious as to what they were doing. Later that day, Dr. Sonnichsen finally decided to enlighten me a little.

She came into the kitchen where I was preparing dinner and sat down.

“So, to keep you updated, I can tell you that I have now observed Maya for a couple of days and tried to figure out exactly how much she remembers and where she has gaps. I have to say, there are a lot of gaps…putting it mildly. But, that doesn’t mean she can’t fill those out in time. But it will take just that…Time.”

I wiped my fingers on my apron and sat down. My stomach turned into a knot, wondering how much time it would take.

“I know you want to know how long it’s going to take,” Dr. Sonnichsen continued, as if she had read my mind. “But, as a habit, I never try to estimate a timeframe for the simple reason that each child is very different, and every case I meet is different. It might take weeks; it might take even years. I don’t know.”

Years?!

Everything inside of me was screaming desperately. Was this thing going to go on for years?

“And, you must know that there is such a thing as permanent amnesia. Not all patients regain their memory completely. That is, of course, only in the very severe cases,” she continued.

“Is Maya severe?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Dr. Sonnichsen exhaled. “Who can say? All I can tell you is that I intend to work with her from now on, and we’ll just have to see.”

“Okay. Okay,” I said, even though I wanted to scream in frustration. I needed better answers, clearer answers. I needed to know that my daughter would be herself…and, preferably, very soon.

“So, you’ll work with her, here in this house every day…or?” I asked.

“Yes. I’ll start a more intensive program this Monday. I have great hopes for Maya.”

I closed my eyes in relief. At least she had good hopes. That was something. It was a start.

“For how long? How long will you be able to work with her?” I asked anxiously.

Dr. Sonnichsen smiled. There was something about that smile that reminded me of someone. I couldn’t figure out who it was.

“As long as it takes,” she said.

“As long as it takes?” I asked, baffled. “As in, no limits? What if it takes years for her to get better?”

“That is very rare,” she said. “The children I work with usually regain around eighty percent of their memory within three to four months, but that varies a lot, naturally. It cannot be forced. We must give it the time it takes for the brain to heal. It’s a very delicate matter, the memory, and we must take it one day at a time. Let’s see where it takes us, shall we?”

Dr. Sonnichsen looked at me intensely. I felt comfortable in her presence. I was happy to put my daughter in her hands.

She rose to her feet and put on her jacket. “I’ll start with the memory training on Maya on Monday. At first, we’ll focus on helping her with day-to-day tasks, help her organize herself to avoid further confusion in her life right now. She needs all the stability she can get. I’ll let you know that the children I usually work with suffer from what we call Dissociative Amnesia, a condition triggered by trauma. I’ve never worked with someone with drugged-induced amnesia before. I do, however, think that Maya’s reactions will be very similar to those of my other patients.”

“And, what are those reactions, usually?” I asked.

“She might get introverted from time to time, even draw away from you and your family; she could get angry, aggressive, or refuse to speak at all. Those are very common reactions. She’s not in a good place right now, and she can’t explain to others what is happening, since she doesn’t understand it herself. Be aware of signs of a beginning depression as well. But, do promise me you won’t treat her as if she’s sick. She is not ill. It is vital that you try to keep a normal life for her. Keep her in school. Have her be with her friends. Talk to her friends and tell them she doesn’t understand everything, and that she has a hard time remembering things. It might bother them, or even hurt them, that she can’t remember them, but explain to them it’s not personal. She’s just going through a rough time. Provide a secure and caring environment at home. Make her feel useful. Give her some chores that she can handle easily.”

Dr. Sonnichsen gave me a friendly smile.

“I…I can’t thank you enough,” I said. “You have no idea how much I’ve prayed for help. You’re heaven sent.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But I’m glad that I can be of help to you in this difficult time. See you on Monday.”

“See you then.”

44

August 2014

T
HEY HAD BOUGHT
a house. Finally, Camilla and Mikkel had been able to agree on something. Ever since they met each other in a club in Esbjerg, they had fought about everything. It could even be the littlest things, like what to eat or how to spend the weekend.

So, naturally, finding a house, the right house, had taken them almost a year. They were both fed up with looking and searching for the right one, so when the yellow house on the south side of Fanoe Island showed up, and they actually, finally, agreed, they threw in an offer as fast as possible. The bank almost said no, since Camilla wanted to start up her own business as a tattoo-artist. They didn’t believe in that idea very much, plus, she had a lot of debt from travelling around in Asia, charging everything on her credit cards, and never being able to pay it back.

But Mikkel had a decent job, and made an okay, but stable, living. Enough for him to be able to vouch for her. He told the bank that he was good for the money, and they knew he was, since his parents owned a big house on the water on the mainland. They knew he would eventually inherit enough money to pay their debts, if necessary.

So, finally, they were able to move into their new house and begin a brand new life for themselves. It was in Sonderho, the second largest city on the island. A perfect place for the two of them to start all over.

They couldn’t agree on whether to pay for a moving company or just do everything themselves. Camilla thought it would be nice to have people do the hard work for her, while Mikkel said they had to be sensible with their money now…that they couldn’t just throw it around like she used to.

“We have a big car. We don’t have much stuff anyway. We can fit it in my sister’s mini-van,” he said. “We might have to make a few trips, but we’ll still save a lot of money.”

They fought about that for a couple of hours, and then settled on renting a moving truck, so they only had to make the trip once.

Now they had moved all their stuff and were standing in their messy living room filled with boxes and bags, Mikkel grabbed two beers, and handed one to Camilla.

“Light beer?” Camilla complained. “I hate light beer.”

“Yeah, well I love it,” Mikkel said and opened his.

Camilla opened hers, as well, even if it was a little reluctantly.

“To our new home,” Mikkel said, as they toasted.

Then they drank. Camilla wiped away her black hair that was constantly in her face. Her tongue was playing with the new piercing in her lip. “I don’t want the couch to be over here; I want it over there,” she said, and pointed to the corner.

“What?” Mikkel said.

Camilla drank from her beer. “That’s the way it’s gonna be, and you know it,” she said, after swallowing.

“Never,” Mikkel said.

“Why are you fighting me on this?” she asked. “You know I’ll get my way at some point.”

“No. Not about this. You got to choose that hideous couch. Now I want to say where it goes. If that thing is going to be in my living room, it has to be right there where I put it.”

“Nope,” she said.

“It will,” he said.

“No, it won’t,” she said.

“I don’t want it over there. That’s the worst place to put a couch. You can hardly get past it and walk into the kitchen. Why don’t you think before you speak?”

“Why don’t you think?” Camilla said, mocking him.

But Mikkel didn’t reply. Instead, he walked to the window and looked into the dusk.

“What are you doing?” Camilla asked. What was he up to? He was ruining a perfectly good fight.

“I think I saw something,” he said.

Camilla scoffed. “Like what? There’s nothing on this island.”

“It looked like someone was looking in,” he said.

“Let me see,” Camilla said, and walked to the window in her black army boots. “Pah, there’s nothing there.”

“There was someone. I’m certain. I’m not lying to you,” Mikkel said, his face turning red in distress. She always thought he was such a wuss. He hated that. “I’m not making this up.”

“You’re being ridiculous. No one is there,” Camilla said. “Let’s unpack a few more boxes and then go to bed.”

45

August 2014

M
IKKEL GRABBED A
few more books from the box and put them on the shelf. Camilla was upstairs in the bedroom, making the bed so they could soon get some sleep. Mikkel was exhausted. He hated moving, and hoped this was going to be the last time for many years. This was the place he wanted to stay; he wanted to have children here and grow old here. He wanted to grow old with Camilla.

Camilla was of a completely different opinion, of course. She wasn’t ready to settle yet, she kept telling him. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t able to stay in the same place for long. She would always tease him about being too sensible, so boring, and she would call him an old man in a young man’s body. She wanted to live in many places, many different cities, and even different countries. Just the thought exhausted Mikkel even further.

But, he loved her. He loved her more than anyone he had ever had close to him in his life. He had no idea he was even capable of loving anyone this much. It was overwhelming. So, they fought a lot. It didn’t matter. They kind of liked it. Both of them did. Camilla was feisty, and it was very good for Mikkel to be with her. She was the perfect counterpart. She would keep him on his toes, and with her, he would never grow old and dull like his parents had.