The Girl in the Woods. Camilla Lackberg
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refused to think about that. Right now his task was to help search the woods, along with all the others whose footsteps and voices he could hear through the branches.
For a moment he paused to breathe in the forest scent. He rarely ventured into the outdoors these days. The last few decades he’d been busy with the bakery and his family, but when he was a young man he’d spent a lot of time outdoors. He promised himself to get back in the habit. Life was short. The past day had been a constant reminder there was no way of knowing what lay around the corner.
Only a few days ago Stella’s parents had no doubt thought they knew what to expect from life. They had lived each day without pausing every other moment to rejoice at what they had. Same as most people. It wasn’t until something happened that people stopped to treasure every second they had with those they loved.
He set off again, walking very slowly, one metre after another. Up ahead he caught a glimpse of water in between the trees. They had received detailed instructions about what to do if they came upon a pond or lake. They were supposed to notify the police, so they could drag the water or send divers in if it was deep. The water he was looking at right now was calm and smooth, except for a few dragonflies landing on the surface, spreading tiny little rings around them. That’s all he saw. The only other thing visible to the naked eye out on the small lake was a tree trunk that had fallen into the water, felled by wind or lightning several years earlier. He went closer and saw that the roots of the trunk were still clinging to the shore. Cautiously he climbed up on the broken tree. He saw nothing but the calm surface of the water. Then he slowly lowered his gaze to look down at his feet. That’s when he noticed the hair. The reddish blond hair floating like seaweed in the murky water.
Sanna was standing in the middle of an aisle in the Konsum supermarket. During the summer she usually kept the garden centre open as long as possible, but today she hadn’t been able to keep her mind on her customers. For once all the questions about how often geraniums needed to be watered seemed too stupid for words.
She gave herself a shake and looked around. Vendela was supposed to come back from staying with her father today, and Sanna wanted to make sure she had plenty of her favourite foods and snacks on hand. One week her daughter was vegan, the next she would eat only hamburgers, and after that she might be on a diet and merely gnaw on a carrot while Sanna babbled on about how young girls needed to eat or risk succumbing to anorexia. Nothing was permanent, nothing was the way it used to be.
She wondered whether Niklas had the same problems with their daughter. Taking turns having Vendela stay with them every other week had worked out well for many years. But now Vendela seemed to have discovered the leverage she wielded. If she didn’t like the food, she would say it was better at her father’s place, and that he let her hang out with Nils in the evenings. Sometimes Sanna felt utterly exhausted, and she wondered why she’d ever thought the early years of Vendela’s life had been demanding; the teenage years seemed to be ten times worse.
It was as if her daughter had turned into a stranger. Vendela always used to be on at her mother the minute she spotted her sneaking a smoke behind the house, and she’d frequently lectured her about the risk of cancer. But lately Sanna had noticed that Vendela’s clothes reeked of cigarette smoke.
Sanna glanced around at the shelves and finally made up her mind. She’d go for something safe. Tacos. And she bought both ground beef and tofu, just in case this turned out to be a vegan week.
These teenage phases had passed Sanna by; she’d grown up too fast for that. Stella’s death, and all the awful things that followed, had catapulted her straight into adulthood. There had been no opportunity for teen angst, no parents to make her roll her eyes.
She’d met Niklas at the community college. They moved in together when she got her first job. Eventually they had Vendela – and Sanna had to admit the pregnancy had been an accident. The fact their relationship had failed was her fault, not his. Niklas was a good man, but she’d never been able to let him fully into her heart. Loving someone, no matter whether it was a spouse or a daughter, hurt too much. That was something she’d learned early on.
Sanna put tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions in her trolley and headed for the checkout.
‘I suppose you’ve heard the news,’ said Bodil as she began scanning the prices of each item Sanna placed on the conveyor belt.
‘No, what’s going on?’ asked Sanna as she picked up a soda bottle and placed it flat on the belt.
‘You didn’t hear about the little girl?’
‘What little girl?’
Sanna was listening with only half an ear. She was already regretting her decision to buy Coke for Vendela.
‘The one who’s disappeared. From your old farm.’
Bodil couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. Sanna froze, holding the bag of Tex-Mex shredded cheese in her hand.
‘Our farm?’ she said, hearing a rushing sound in her ears.
‘Yes,’ said Bodil, continuing to scan the items without noticing that Sanna had stopped unloading her trolley. ‘A four-year-old girl disappeared from your old farm. My husband went out to join the search party in the woods. I heard lots of people have turned up to help.’
Sanna slowly set the bag of cheese on the belt. Then she headed for the door, leaving her groceries behind. Her purse too. Behind her, she heard Bodil calling her name.
Anna leaned back in her chair and looked at Dan, who was sawing a board in half. Right now, in the worst of the summer heat, he’d decided it was the perfect time to get started on the ‘new deck’ project. They’d been talking about it for three years, but apparently it couldn’t be put off any longer. She guessed his male nesting instincts had come into play. Her own nesting instincts had taken a different form. She’d been going through the clothing in all the wardrobes in the house. The kids had started hiding their favourite clothes, fearing they’d end up among the garments she was planning to give away.
Anna smiled at Dan as he worked in the heat. She realized that for the first time in ages she was actually enjoying life. Her small decorating business wasn’t exactly ready to be launched on the stock market, but she’d won the trust of many of the discriminating summer visitors, and she was now having to turn away customers because she was too busy. And the baby was growing inside her. They’d decided not to find out the gender, so for now they simply called the child ‘baby’. The other children were eagerly involved in trying to come up with a name, but with suggestions like ‘Buzz Lightyear’, ‘RackarAlex’, and ‘Darth Vader’, they hadn’t been much help. And one night a grumpy Dan had quoted Fredde from the TV show Solsidan: ‘We each made a list of suggested names, and then we took the one at the top of Mickan’s.’ All because she’d dissed his suggestion that, if the baby was a boy, they should call him Bruce after Bruce Springsteen. Dan claimed her choice, Philip, made it sound as if the kid was going to be born wearing a navy pea jacket. So that’s how things stood. The birth was only a month away, and they still hadn’t decided on a single name for a boy or a girl.
But it’ll all work out, thought Anna as Dan came over to her. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. He was sweaty and tasted of salt.
‘So here you sit, relaxing,’ he said, patting her belly.
‘Yup. The kids have all gone out to visit friends,’ she said, taking a sip of her iced coffee.
She’d heard it said pregnant women shouldn’t drink too much coffee, but she needed some sort of treat for herself now that alcohol and unpasteurized cheese were both forbidden.
‘I practically died at lunch today when my sister sat there sipping a big, cold glass of bubbly,’ she moaned. Dan squeezed her shoulder.
He