The Lost Boy. Camilla Lackberg
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to eat with us. The kids are asking for you.’
‘No.’
‘No, you don’t want to eat? Or no, you won’t come downstairs?’
Anna could hear the frustration in his voice, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything any more. There was nothing but a huge empty space inside of her. No tears, no sorrow, no anger.
‘No.’
‘You have to eat. You have to …’ His voice broke, and he set the tray down on her bedside table with a bang, making some of the tomato soup slosh over the side of the bowl.
‘No.’
‘I lost a child too, Anna. And the kids lost a brother. We need you. We …’
She heard him searching for words. But in her head, there was room for only one word. A single word that had lodged inside of the emptiness. She looked away.
‘No.’
After a moment she heard Dan leave the room. She turned to look out of the window again.
It worried her that he seemed so distant.
‘My dear Sam.’ She cradled him in her arms, stroking his hair. He still hadn’t made a sound. It occurred to her that maybe she should have taken him to a doctor, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She wasn’t ready to let anyone else into their world yet. If he just had some peace and quiet, he would soon be himself again.
‘Do you want to take a little afternoon nap, sweetie?’
He didn’t answer, but she carried him to his bed and tucked him in. Then she made herself a pot of coffee, poured some into a cup along with some milk and went outside to sit on the dock, savouring the warmth of the sun on her face. Fredrik had loved the sun; in fact, he had worshipped it. He was always complaining about how cold it was in Sweden and how seldom the sun shone.
Why was she suddenly thinking about him? She had pushed all such thoughts to the back of her mind. He no longer had any place in their lives. Fredrik, with his constant demands and his need to have control over everything and everyone. Mostly over her – and Sam.
Out here on Gråskär there was no trace of him. He’d never been to the island; it was all hers. He had never wanted to come here. ‘I’ll be damned if I’m going to park myself on some fucking rock,’ he’d said the few times that she’d asked him. She was glad that he’d refused to come. The island hadn’t been sullied by his presence. It was a pure place that belonged only to her and Sam.
She wrapped her hands tightly around the coffee cup. The years had passed so swiftly. Time had flown by so fast, and in the end she was stuck. There was no escape, no possibility of fleeing. She had no one other than Fredrik and Sam. Where was she supposed to have gone?
At least now they were finally free. She felt the salt breeze brush her face. They had done it. She and Sam. After he recovered, they could live their own life.
Nathalie was home. He had thought about her all evening after having dinner with his parents. Nathalie with the long blond hair and the freckles on her nose and arms. Nathalie who smelled of the sea and summer. After all these years he could still feel her warmth in his embrace. It was true what they said: you never forget your first love. And those three summers on Gråskär could only be described as magical. He had gone over to see her as often as he could, and together they had made the small island their own.
But occasionally she had scared him. Her clear laughter would suddenly come to an abrupt halt, and then she seemed to disappear into a darkness where he couldn’t reach her. She was never able to put words to the feeling that came over her, and eventually he learned to leave her alone whenever it happened. During that last summer the darkness had come more and more often, and she had slowly slipped away from him. In August, when he waved goodbye to her as she boarded the train for Stockholm with her luggage, he knew that it was over.
Since then, they hadn’t been in touch at all. The following year he had tried to phone her when her parents passed away, one dying very soon after the other, but he got through only to her voicemail. She never called him back. And the cottage on Gråskär stood empty. He knew that his mother and father went out there once in a while to look after the place, and that Nathalie occasionally sent money to pay them for their efforts. But she had never come back, and over time his memories of her had faded.
Now Nathalie had returned. Matte stared into space as he sat at his desk. His suspicions about the spa project funding were getting stronger, and there were things he needed to tend to. But thoughts of Nathalie kept intruding. When the afternoon sun began sinking over the Tanumshede council building, he gathered up all the documents lying in front of him. He had to see Nathalie. With resolute steps he left his office, pausing to exchange a few words with Erling before he headed out to his car. His hand was shaking as he put the key in the ignition and started up the engine.
‘You’re home so early, darling!’
Vivianne came to greet Erling, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. He couldn’t resist catching hold of her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close.
‘Now, now, take it easy. We need to save our energy for later.’ She placed her hands against his chest to hold him off.
‘Are you sure about that? Lately I’ve been so tired in the evenings.’ Again he drew her close. To his great disappointment, she slipped away and turned to head for her home office.
‘You’ll just have to wait. I’ve got so much to do that I couldn’t possibly relax right now. And you know how things go when I’m not relaxed.’
‘Okay. All right.’
Crestfallen, Erling watched her walk away. Of course they could wait until later, but he’d fallen asleep on the sofa for over a week now. Every morning he awoke to find himself lying under a blanket that Vivianne had tenderly spread over him, with one of the sofa pillows under his head. He couldn’t understand it. It must be because he was working too hard. He really ought to get better at delegating tasks to others.
‘I’ve brought home a treat, at any rate,’ he called after her.
‘That’s nice of you. What is it?’
‘Shrimp from Olsson Brothers’, and an excellent bottle of Chablis.’
‘Sounds wonderful. I’ll be done around eight o’clock, so it would be lovely if you had everything ready by then.’
‘Of course, sweetheart,’ murmured Erling.
He picked up the carrier bags and took them out to the kitchen. It still felt a bit strange to him. When he was married to Viveca, she had always taken care of the cooking. But since Vivianne had moved in, she had somehow shifted the responsibility to his shoulders. For the life of him, he couldn’t comprehend how that had happened.
He sighed heavily as he put the groceries in the refrigerator. Then he thought about what was in store for him later in the evening and his mood lifted. He would make sure that she was properly relaxed. It would certainly make up for the time he had to spend in the kitchen.
Erica was breathing hard as she walked through Fjällbacka. Being pregnant with twins and then undergoing a caesarean hadn’t exactly helped either her weight or her physical condition. But that sort of thing now seemed terribly unimportant. Both of her sons were healthy. They had survived, and the gratitude she felt every morning when they started crying at six thirty was so overwhelming that it still brought tears to her eyes.
Anna had suffered a much worse fate, and for the first time Erica had no idea how to approach her sister. Their relationship had never been easy, but since the time they were kids, Erica had been the one to take care of Anna, blowing on her bruises and cuts, wiping away her tears. This time things were different. The pain wasn’t some minor scrape but a deep hole in Anna’s soul. Erica felt as if she were standing off to the side, watching as her sister’s life force seeped out of her. How was she going to help her heal? Anna’s son had died, and no matter how sad Erica felt, she