The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg

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The Lost Boy - Camilla Lackberg


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      ‘You mean at the Badis Hotel?’ Martin woke up a bit.

      ‘That’s right. Erling’s new project. Let’s just hope that it goes better than all that Sodding Tanum nonsense.’

      ‘I think it sounds great. Lots of guys laugh at the idea of having a facial, but I had one in Göteborg and it was bloody marvellous. My skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom for weeks afterward.’

      Gösta gave his colleague a disgusted look. A facial? Over his dead body. Nobody was going to smear a load of muck all over his face. ‘Well, we’ll have to see what they’re offering. I’m hoping for at least some fancy grub. Maybe a dessert buffet.’

      ‘I doubt it,’ laughed Martin. ‘Places like that are usually more concerned with getting people to stay in shape than stuffing themselves with food.’

      Gösta looked offended. His weight was exactly the same as when he finished secondary school. With a snort, he helped himself to another biscuit.

      Chaos reigned when they arrived home. Maja and Lisen were jumping on the sofa, Emma and Adrian were fighting over a DVD, and the twins were crying at the top of their lungs. Patrik’s mother looked as if she might jump off a cliff at any second.

      ‘Thank God you’re home,’ she exclaimed as she handed Patrik and Erica each a screaming baby. ‘I don’t know what got into these kids. They’ve been crazy. And I tried to feed the babies, but every time I fed one of them, the other would start crying, and then the first one would get distracted and couldn’t eat and would start crying too …’ She fell silent, trying to catch her breath.

      ‘Sit down, Mamma,’ said Patrik. He went to get a bottle for Anton, whom he was holding in his arms. The boy’s face was beet-red, and he was crying as loudly as his tiny body would allow.

      ‘Could you bring a bottle for Noel too?’ asked Erica as she tried to comfort her shrieking son.

      Anton and Noel were still so small. Not like Maja, who had been big and robust right from the start. Yet the boys were actually enormous in comparison to their size at birth. Like tiny birds, they had lain in separate incubators, their thin arms hooked up to various tubes. They were fighters, according to the nurses at the hospital. And they had quickly gained weight, for the most part exhibiting a good appetite. But Erica and Patrik couldn’t help worrying about them.

      ‘Thanks.’ Erica took the bottle that her husband handed to her and sat down in an armchair, holding Noel. He greedily began drinking the formula. Patrik sat down in the other armchair with Anton, who stopped crying as swiftly as his brother. Erica thought that there were definite advantages to the fact that she hadn’t been able to breastfeed. This way she and Patrik were able to share responsibility for the babies. That hadn’t been possible with Maja, and it had felt as if her daughter were glued to her breast 24/7.

      ‘How did it go?’ asked Kristina. She lifted Maja and Lisen down from the sofa and told them to go upstairs to play in Maja’s room. Emma and Adrian had already disappeared upstairs, so the two girls didn’t need any further persuasion.

      ‘It was fine. I don’t know what else to say,’ Erica told her. ‘But I’m worried about Anna.’

      ‘Me too.’ Patrik cautiously changed position so he was sitting more comfortably. ‘It’s as if she’s shut Dan out. She’s keeping him at a distance.’

      ‘I know. I’ve tried talking to her. But after all she’s been through …’ Erica shook her head. It was so terribly unfair. For years Anna had lived a life that could only be described as hell, but lately it seemed as if she’d finally found some peace of mind. And she’d been so happy about the baby that she and Dan were expecting. What had happened was unbelievably cruel.

      ‘Emma and Adrian seem to be handling it relatively well.’ Kristina cast a glance upstairs, where the children could be heard laughing merrily.

      ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Erica. ‘Right now they’re probably just so happy to have their mother back home. I’m not sure that they’ve fully taken in what happened yet.’

      ‘You’re probably right,’ said Kristina, and then looked at her son. ‘And what about you? Shouldn’t you stay home from work a while longer until you’re properly rested? No one’s going to thank you for working yourself to death over at the station. What happened to you was a wake-up call.’

      ‘At the moment things are actually calmer over there than here,’ said Erica, nodding at the twins. ‘But I told him the same thing.’

      ‘It feels good to be working again, but I’ll stay home if you really want me to,’ said Patrik. He set the empty bottle on the coffee table and placed Anton against his shoulder to burp him.

      ‘No, that’s okay. We’re doing just fine now.’

      Erica meant what she said. After Maja was born, she’d felt as if she were walking around in a thick fog, but this time everything was different. Maybe the circumstances surrounding the birth of the twins left no room for her to be depressed. It also helped that they had developed a set routine while in the hospital. They slept and ate at specific hours, and always together. Erica wasn’t the least bit concerned about being able to take care of the babies. She was happy for every second that she had with them, since she had come so close to losing both of them.

      She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and pressed her nose against the top of Noel’s head. For a moment his downy skin made her think of Anna, and she closed her eyes even tighter. She hoped she’d be able to find a way to help her sister, because right now she felt so powerless. She took a deep breath, drawing in Noel’s comforting scent.

      ‘My sweet baby,’ she murmured. ‘My sweet little baby.’

      ‘So how’s it going with your job?’ Signe tried to strike a light tone as she piled meatloaf, peas, mashed potatoes, and cream gravy on to a plate. A huge serving.

      Ever since Matte had moved back to the area, he’d hardly touched his food, even though she’d made his favourite meals every time he had dinner with them. The question was whether he ate anything at all when he was alone in his flat. He was as thin as a rail. Thank goodness he at least looked better now that all traces of the assault had disappeared. When they went to see him at Sahlgrenska Hospital, she hadn’t been able to hold back a cry of dismay. He had been beaten to a pulp. His face was so swollen that she could hardly tell whether it was really Matte lying in that hospital bed.

      ‘It’s fine.’

      Signe jumped at the sound of his voice. The answer to her question came after such a delay that she’d forgotten she asked it. Matte ploughed his fork through the mashed potatoes and then stabbed a bite of meatloaf. She realized she was holding her breath as she watched him raise the fork to his mouth.

      ‘Stop staring at the boy while he’s eating,’ muttered Gunnar. He was already helping himself to seconds.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s just that I’m … I’m so glad to see you eating something.’

      ‘I’m not about to starve to death, Mamma. See? I’m eating.’ As if in defiance, he loaded his fork and quickly stuffed the food into his mouth before it toppled off.

      ‘They’re not working you too hard at the office, are they?’

      Signe received yet another annoyed look from Gunnar. She knew that he thought she was being over-protective, that she ought to leave their son in peace for a while. But she couldn’t help it. Matte was her only child, and ever since that December day when he was born, which was almost forty years ago, she’d regularly woken up in the middle of the night, her nightgown soaked with sweat and her head filled with nightmares about the terrible things that might have happened to him. Nothing in life was more important to her than seeing him happy. She had always felt that way. And she knew that Gunnar was every bit as devoted to their son as she was. But he was better equipped to shut out the ominous thoughts that love for a child always entails.


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