Camilla Lackberg Crime Thrillers 4-6: The Stranger, The Hidden Child, The Drowning. Camilla Lackberg
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serious, I hope,’ said Patrik.
‘No, she’s just been feeling a bit sick lately.’
‘Is it …’ Patrik started to say, but a glance from Martin cut him off. Okay, this was no time to be asking that particular question. He chuckled and waved at Martin as he got in the car. It would be nice to get home.
Lars was massaging Hanna’s shoulders. She sat at the kitchen table with her eyes closed, her arms hanging relaxed at her sides. But her shoulders were rock-hard, and Lars tried as gently as possible to loosen the tension that had settled there.
‘Damn, you should go to a chiropractor, your muscles are all knotted up.’
‘Mmm, I know,’ said Hanna, wincing as he dug into a knot to work on it. ‘Ow,’ she said.
Lars stopped at once. ‘Does it hurt? Should I stop?’
‘No, keep going,’ she said, still with a grimace of pain. But it was a lovely sort of pain. The feeling of a tight muscle releasing was wonderful.
‘How are things at work now?’ His hands kneaded and kneaded.
‘Well, pretty good,’ she said. ‘But it’s a rather sleepy station. None of them is particularly sharp. With the possible exception of Patrik Hedström. And the younger guy, Martin, could also be good someday. But Gösta and Mellberg!’ Hanna laughed. ‘Gösta just sits there playing computer games, and I’ve hardly seen Mellberg. He hangs around in his office all day. This is going to be a real challenge.’
For a while the mood remained light in the room. But soon the old shadows came sneaking in and the usual tension descended on them. There was so much they ought to say. So much they ought to do. But it never got done. The past hovered between them like a gigantic obstruction that they never managed to surmount. They had become resigned. By now the question was whether they even wanted to get past it.
Lars’s hand changed from a kneading massage to a caress as he touched Hanna’s neck. She moaned softly, still with her eyes closed.
‘Is it ever going to end, Lars?’ she whispered as his hands continued caressing her, down over her shoulders, forward to her collarbone, in under her jumper. His mouth was now close to her ear and she could feel the warmth of his breath.
‘I don’t know. I just don’t know, Hanna.’
‘But we have to talk about it. Some day we have to talk about it.’ She could hear the beseeching and desperate tone that always sneaked into her voice when the subject came up.
‘No, we don’t.’ Now Lars’s tongue was at her earlobe. She tried to resist, but as usual the desire was rising inside her.
‘But what are we going to do?’ Now the desperation was mixed with passion and she abruptly turned towards him.
With his face close to hers he said, ‘We’re going to live our lives. Day by day, hour by hour. We’ll do our jobs, we’ll laugh, we’ll do everything that’s expected of us. We love each other.’
‘But …’ Her protests were stopped by his mouth on hers. The capitulation that followed was all too familiar. She felt his hands all over her body. They left burning traces behind, and she felt the tears coming. All those years of frustration, of shame, of passion, were contained in those tears. Lars greedily licked them up and his tongue left wet tracks on her cheeks. She tried to turn away, but his love, his hunger, was everywhere and would not let her break free. Finally she gave in. She cleansed her mind of all thoughts, the entire past. She responded to his kisses and clung to him as he pressed his body to hers. They tore off each other’s clothes and fell to the kitchen floor. Far away she could hear herself screaming.
Afterwards she always felt as empty as ever. And lost.
‘Patrik seemed very subdued yesterday when he came home.’ Anna cast a glance at Erica as she concentrated on driving.
Erica sighed. ‘Yes, he’s out of sorts. I tried to talk to him this morning when I drove him to work, but he wasn’t very talkative. I’ve seen that expression before. There’s something he’s worried about, something at work that’s eating him. The only thing I can do is give him time; sooner or later he’ll start talking.’
‘Men,’ said Anna, and a shadow passed over her face. Erica sensed the change in her sister and instantly felt a knot in her stomach. She lived in eternal fear that Anna would fall back into apathy again, that she would lose that spark of life that had now been awakened in her. But this time Anna managed to dismiss the memory of the hell she’d been through, the memory that so insistently kept forcing its way into her thoughts.
‘Does it have anything to do with that accident?’ she said.
‘I think so,’ said Erica, looking around cautiously before she entered the roundabout by Torp. ‘At any rate he said that they’re investigating some discrepancies that have emerged, and he said the accident reminded him of something.’
‘Of what?’ Anna asked. ‘What could a car crash remind him of?’
‘I don’t know. That’s just what he said. But he was going to look into it further today at work, try to get to the bottom of it.’
‘I assume you didn’t have a chance to show him the list.’
Erica laughed. ‘No, I didn’t have the heart to show it to him when he was so down. I’ll try to sneak it in this weekend when I find the right moment.’
‘Good,’ said Anna. Without being asked she had taken on the role of chief planner and boss of the wedding project. ‘The most important thing you have to point out to him is what he’s going to wear. We could go look today, and you can pick out some things you want him to try on, but that part won’t be easy without him.’
‘Well, what Patrik’s going to wear isn’t a problem. I’m more worried about myself,’ Erica said gloomily. ‘Do you think they have an extra-large department at the bridal shop?’ She turned into the car park at Kampenhof and unfastened her seat belt. Anna did the same and then turned to Erica.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll look fantastic.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ Erica said. ‘Prepare yourself – this isn’t going to be fun.’ She locked the car and led the way down the shopping street, with Maja sitting in the pushchair. The bridal shop was on one of the small cross-streets, and she had rung them in advance to make sure they were open.
Anna said nothing until they reached the shop. She squeezed Erica’s arm just as they entered, trying to infuse a little enthusiasm. It was a wedding dress they were shopping for, after all.
Erica took a deep breath when they closed the door behind them. White, white, white. Tulle and lace and pearls and sequins. A short woman in her sixties wearing too much make-up came towards them.
‘Welcome, welcome!’ she chirped, clapping her hands in enthusiasm. Erica cynically thought that the shop owner must not get very many customers, considering how glad she was to see them.
Anna stepped forward and took charge. ‘We’d like to find a wedding dress for my sister here.’ She pointed to Erica and the woman clapped her hands again.
‘Oh, how wonderful, are you getting married?’
No, I just want to own a wedding dress. For my own amusement, Erica thought sourly, but she kept the comment to herself.
Anna looked as if she could hear what Erica was thinking and was quick to jump in, ‘The wedding is on Whitsun Eve.’
‘Good heavens,’ said the woman in astonishment. ‘Then you’ll have to hurry, hurry. Only a bit over a month left. It’s none too soon to be looking for a dress.’
Once again Erica swallowed a sarcastic remark as she felt Anna’s hand on her arm. The woman motioned for them to step further into the shop and Erica followed hesitantly. This situation felt so … odd. She had actually never set foot inside a bridal