Dreaming of Elisabeth: A Short Story (2 page)

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Authors: Camilla Lackberg

BOOK: Dreaming of Elisabeth: A Short Story

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Malin flinched. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Lars come to the cockpit to stand beside her. She followed his gaze and peered at the horizon. He was right. Huge black clouds had formed, and the wind was gathering force. The big sailboat was now racing forward through foaming swells that slapped against the bow.

‘Didn’t you listen to the weather report this morning?’ Malin asked, glancing at Lars. ‘I thought you said we would have clear skies with a light wind.’

He ran his hand through his hair, looking annoyed. She knew that gesture of his so well.

‘No, I didn’t say that. I assumed you had listened to the forecast. You were the one who insisted on being the skipper today.’

Malin didn’t reply. It was no use arguing over what either of them had said or done. No matter what, the weather was getting worse, and they had no option but to deal with it.

‘Release the mainsail,’ she said as the boat began tilting even more. She had to brace one foot against the side of the cockpit to keep her balance. ‘Maybe we should turn back,’ she added nervously, looking at Lars.

He shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. We need to get to Strömstad today.’

Malin was surprised by his strong reaction.

‘Why? Why do we need to get to Strömstad?’

‘We just do.’

‘But—’

She was about to protest, but he turned away.

‘Keep sailing, goddammit!’ he shouted, making Malin jump.

Her uneasiness, which had been growing stronger over the past weeks, now erupted full force. She hardly recognized him. All those secrets he’d been keeping, all those little excursions when he’d gone off alone, all those mysterious phone calls. Her anxiety now merged with images of Elisabeth. Malin pictured her predecessor on a sailboat with heavy clouds overhead and strong winds battling to take control of the boat. Images of her in the water. Underwater. Silently drifting with her long hair floating around her face. And her dead eyes.

Feeling her heart turn to ice, Malin studied Lars’s back as he went to release the sail. She suddenly felt that she was watching a stranger. She tried to conjure up memories from the past, from the years they’d spent together. But the only thing she saw when she looked back was the blood on the tiles. The feeling of life running out of her. The sympathetic and tender look that she’d seen on Lars’s face as he held her after each miscarriage now seemed, after the fact, to have been nothing more than a mask. As if he’d been someone else. As if he were feeling something else behind that sorrowful persona. Why hadn’t the doctors ever been able to find anything wrong with her? Why couldn’t they explain why she couldn’t keep a baby alive in her womb?

The wind was blowing harder, and Malin was getting scared. She was an experienced sailor, but she’d never been out in a storm like this. Why had Lars insisted that they keep going?

She was suddenly so certain of his motive that she almost collapsed. Somehow she forced herself to take a firmer grip on the wheel, staring into the storm as pieces of the puzzle fell into place, one by one. His hand pressed against her back as she stumbled – he could as easily have pushed her overboard as pulled her to safety. And that bout of what Lars had said was food poisoning, during which she’d slipped in and out of consciousness. In and out of Elisabeth’s world. And now. The fact that he claimed she was the one who had checked the weather forecast. Today they were going to end up in the middle of a storm, just as Elisabeth had six years earlier. And yet he had insisted that they carry on, straight into the bad weather.

Malin began shaking uncontrollably. Everything was suddenly crystal clear. This was what Elisabeth had tried to warn her about in the dream. ‘Save yourself!’ That was what she had said before she fell over the side. Pushed by Lars. Malin now had no doubt that it must have happened that way. Everything fit. And after she was gone, Lars would once again play the role of the grieving widower. A widower who would inherit a considerable fortune from his late wife. It was all so banal. So incredibly banal.

Malin glanced at her husband, who was struggling with the sail, and then she made up her mind. She would heed the warning that Elisabeth had delivered in those feverish dreams. She would save herself, no matter what the cost. She had no intention of becoming Lars’s next victim.

With great determination she swung the rudder to port and struck. The boom came flying with tremendous force, and Lars just managed to duck in time. He turned around with an expression that showed both surprise and anger.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he shouted over the roaring of the squalls.

Malin didn’t reply. She kept on turning the boat. Lars was coming towards her. Water sprayed over the boat and into his face. Malin realized that she too was getting drenched. But she no longer felt anything. She was completely empty inside. Cold. The way she was every time a child left her body.

By the time Lars got closer, she had swung the boat all the way around and the wind once again filled the sails. In her mind, the film was playing over and over – the sequence where Elisabeth fell overboard. The look of surprise on her face, changing to fear. Then her lips shaping those same words over and over again: ‘Save yourself, save yourself, save … your …’

Lars hopped down next to Malin and grabbed her arm. Hard. Desperately she tried to pull away, her fear growing worse with every second.

‘What are you doing?’ he shouted in her ear. But she was so terrified that she couldn’t answer. Instead, she yanked her arm out of his grasp and ran. She made it up three steps to the deck before Lars caught her and again grabbed her by the arm.

‘Calm down! What’s wrong with you?’

Panic was making her pulse race. She knew it was only a matter of seconds before she would follow Elisabeth down into the deep. A sense of resignation made her close her eyes tight and wait for the inevitable. There was nothing more she could do.

At that moment the boat careened in protest because no one was standing at the wheel, and again the boom came flying. This time Lars didn’t manage to duck. With a horrible crunch the boom struck him on the back of the head. Malin flung herself out of the way as he flew past her and over the guard rail. For a few seconds he fumbled for something to grab. She saw his outstretched hand, the panic in his eyes, and knew that she had a choice to make. As if it was no longer attached to her, she found her hand automatically reaching out for his. Only a centimetre separated their fingers when she again heard Elisabeth’s voice in her head.

She pulled her hand back.

Her fingers trembled on the wheel. In the distance she saw Grebbestad harbour, only ten minutes away. It was tempting to turn back. But she realized if she did that, no one would believe her when she said that Lars had fallen overboard in the fierce storm. Reluctantly she went about. The wind was whipping up huge swells behind her. For a moment she thought she caught a glimpse of Lars in the waves. That was the deciding factor. She turned the wheel and the boat responded reluctantly as it again headed in the direction of Strömstad. The storm scared her, but Elisabeth’s voice urged her on. She wasn’t doing this only to save herself. She was also doing this for Elisabeth.

After a terrifying journey she finally caught sight of Strömstad harbour. In her mind she rehearsed over and over what she would do. And say. She didn’t have to pretend to be upset. The adrenalin that had surged through her body had begun to ease, leaving her in a trembling state, shivering and sobbing. It took all the resolve she could muster to pull into a visitor’s berth at one of the docks. Exhausted, she collapsed in the cockpit, shuddering as she lay on the floorboards. Again and again she went over what had happened. Bitterness left a sour taste in her mouth, but otherwise she felt completely dead inside. She didn’t feel the water that soaked through her clothes all the way to her skin. It had nothing to do with her. All her senses seemed to have stopped functioning. She felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. But she had no doubt whatsoever that she’d had no choice but to do what she did. One of them was not coming back alive from that sailing trip. And it turned out to be Lars. Not her.

‘Malin?’

A voice forced its way through the haze of exhaustion in her brain. At first she thought it was Elisabeth’s voice she was hearing, yet it sounded more familiar. Confused, Malin raised her head and tried to focus. She thought she’d heard someone say her name, but that was impossible. She dismissed the notion.

‘Malin!’

Now she was seeing more clearly she could make out a group of people standing on the dock. And someone was definitely saying her name.

‘Yvonne?’ said Malin. She found herself looking up at her best friend. But wasn’t she in Stockholm? Thoughts swirled through her mind. Nothing made any sense. For a moment she wondered if all the stress was making her hallucinate. But Yvonne was not the only person she recognized. She saw her sister Lotta, three of her colleagues, and a handful of other friends. With a great effort Malin sat up and peered at the faces of so many of the people that she loved. They looked worried, surprised.

‘Where’s Lars? That was a terrible storm you came through. We rang Lars before you left Grebbestad and told him we could go over there instead. But he’d put so much work into making plans for your surprise fortieth birthday party, and he’s rented a banquet room here in Strömstad, so …’

Yvonne’s voice faded as she looked at the boat in bewilderment.

Malin felt herself slowly slip away. She was again dreaming about Elisabeth. But this time Lars was at Elisabeth’s side.

Try the latest spine-tingling thriller in Camilla Lackberg’s Fjallbacka series …

TRAGEDY RUNS IN THE FAMILY

AND MURDER RUNS IN THE BLOOD …

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About the Author

Camilla Lackberg is a worldwide bestseller renowned for her brilliant contemporary psychological thrillers. Her novels have sold over 12 million copies in 55 countries with translations into 37 languages.

www.CamillaLackberg.com

Also by Camilla Lackberg

The Ice Princess

The Preacher

The Stonecutter

The Stranger
(previously titled
The Gallows Bird
)

The Hidden Child

The Drowning

The Lost Boy

Buried Angels

About the Publisher

Australia