Buried Angels. Camilla Lackberg
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lately.’
‘I’d like to see that.’ Martin burst out laughing. It was nice to laugh, and some of the tension he was feeling started to ease.
The microwave dinged, and Annika put the warm buns on a plate and then set two cups of coffee on the table as well.
‘All right now. Help yourself and then tell me what’s bothering you. I could see something was wrong earlier today, but I thought I’d let you talk about it in your own good time.’
‘It might not be anything, and I don’t want to bother you with my problems, but …’ Martin noticed with frustration that sobs were already rising in his throat.
‘Don’t be silly. That’s why I’m sitting here. Now tell me.’
Martin took a deep breath. ‘Pia is sick,’ he said at last, hearing how the words echoed off the walls in the kitchen.
He saw Annika’s face turn pale. This was probably not what she was expecting. He rotated the coffee cup between his hands and started over. Suddenly the words came pouring out.
‘She’s been feeling tired for a long time. Actually, ever since Tuva was born, but we thought nothing of it. It just seemed a normal response after having a baby. But Tuva is almost two now, and Pia hasn’t been feeling any better. In fact, it’s getting worse and worse. Then Pia noticed several lumps in her neck …’
Annika’s hand flew to her mouth, as if she understood where this conversation was going.
‘And a few weeks ago I went with her to see a doctor, and I could tell at once what he suspected. She got an immediate referral to see a specialist in Uddevalla, and we went there so she could have some tests. And now she has an appointment with an oncologist tomorrow afternoon to hear the results, but we already know what they’re going to say.’ Tears began rolling down his face, and he angrily wiped them away.
Annika handed him a paper napkin. ‘Go ahead and cry. It usually helps.’
‘It’s so unfair. Pia is only thirty-three, and Tuva is still a baby, and I’ve Googled the statistics, and if it’s what we think, the odds aren’t very good. Pia is being incredibly brave, but I’m such a bloody coward, and I can’t bear to talk to her about all this. I can hardly stand to see her with Tuva or even look her in the eye. I feel so damned useless!’ He could no longer hold back the tears. He leaned over the table, burying his head in his arms and sobbing so hard that his whole body shook.
Annika put her arm around his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his. She didn’t say a word, just kept stroking his back. After a while, he sat up, turned towards her, and crept into her arms. Annika gently rocked him, the way she would have rocked Leia if she’d hurt herself.
They had been lucky to find a table at the Café Bryggan. All of the outdoor seating was taken, and Leon watched as one shrimp sandwich after another was served. The location near Ingrid Bergman Square was perfect, with tables along the entire wharf, all the way out to the water.
‘I think we should buy the house,’ said Ia.
He turned to gape at his wife. ‘Ten million kronor isn’t exactly small change.’
‘Did I say it was?’ She leaned forward to straighten the blanket on his lap.
‘Leave the damn blanket alone. I’m sweating to death.’
‘You’re not supposed to catch cold. You know that.’
A waitress came over to their table, and Ia ordered a glass of wine for herself and mineral water for Leon. He glanced up at the young girl.
‘I’ll have a large beer,’ he said.
Ia gave him a reproachful look, but he merely nodded at the waitress. She reacted in the same way that everyone he met always did, making an exaggerated effort not to stare at the scars from the burns. When she left, he gazed out at the water.
‘It smells just the way I remember,’ said Leon. His hands, covered with thick scar tissue, rested in his lap.
‘I still don’t care for this place. But I’ll learn to like it if we buy the house,’ Ia said. ‘I have no intention of living in some hovel, and I don’t plan to be here all summer. A couple of weeks a year should be sufficient.’
‘Don’t you think it’s unreasonable to buy a house for ten million if we’re only planning to use it a couple of weeks a year?’
‘Those are my conditions,’ she said. ‘Otherwise you can stay here alone. And that won’t work, will it?’
‘No. I realize that I can’t manage on my own. And on the rare occasions I forget, I can always count on you to remind me.’
‘Do you ever think about all the sacrifices I’ve made for your sake? I have to put up with your crazy whims, and you never consider how I feel. And now you want to come here. Aren’t you a little too burnt to be playing with fire?’
The waitress brought the wine and the beer, setting the glasses on the blue-and-white checked cloth. Leon took several swigs and then ran his thumb over the cold glass.
‘Okay, do whatever you want. Call that estate agent and say that we’re going to buy the house. But I want to move in as soon as possible. I hate staying in a hotel.’
‘Great,’ said Ia without enthusiasm. ‘If we have that house, I’m sure I can stand being here a couple of weeks a year.’
‘You’re so brave, darling.’
She gave him a dark look. ‘Let’s just hope that you don’t regret this decision.’
‘A lot of water has gone under the bridge,’ he said calmly.
At that moment he heard someone behind him gasp with surprise.
‘Leon?’
He flinched. He didn’t have to turn his head to recognize that voice. Josef. After all these years, there stood Josef.
Paula gazed out across the glittering fjord, enjoying the heat. She put a hand on her stomach and smiled when she felt the kicking.
‘Okay, I think it’s about time for some ice cream,’ said Mellberg, getting to his feet. He cast a glance at Paula and wagged his finger at her. ‘Don’t you know that it’s not a good idea to expose your stomach to sunlight?’
She stared at him in astonishment as he headed for the kiosk.
‘Is he pulling my leg?’ said Paula, turning to her mother.
Rita laughed. ‘Bertil means well.’
Paula muttered to herself but got out a shawl to cover her stomach. Leo dashed past, totally naked. Johanna quickly caught up with him.
‘Bertil’s right,’ she said. ‘The UV rays can cause pigment changes, so you should also slather your face with sunblock.’
‘Pigment changes?’ said Paula. ‘But my skin is already brown.’
Rita handed her a bottle of factor 30 sunblock. ‘I got lots of brown spots on my face when I was pregnant with you, so don’t argue.’
Paula obeyed, and Johanna rubbed some on her own fair skin.
‘Well, you’re lucky,’ she said. ‘At least you don’t get sunburnt.’
‘I just wish Bertil would take things a little easier,’ said Paula, squeezing a big blob of sunblock into the palm of her hand. ‘This morning I caught him reading my pregnancy magazines. And the day before yesterday he brought home a bottle of Omega-3 oil for me from the health food store. He read in some magazine that it was good for the development of the baby’s brain.’
‘He’s so happy about the whole thing. Leave him be,’ said Rita. For the second time she began smearing sunblock on Leo from head to toe. He had inherited Johanna’s ruddy, freckled skin, and he burned easily in the sun. Paula wondered