The Circle (15 page)

They’re sitting in a side-room just off the main seating area – a sort of appendix with no windows and just enough space for six tables. According to the unwritten law, this is where the popular crowd sits.

‘Thanks,’ she says, and sits down.

Both Felicia and Julia look at her expectantly. They’re like a couple of eager puppies hopping around their master’s feet. If Felicia and Julia had tails, they would definitely be wagging them.

‘Felicia and I were just saying it feels like we’ve been friends with you for years,’ Julia says.

‘Yeah, I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks,’ Felicia says.

Anna-Karin smiles. ‘Nor me.’

Kevin and Robin are walking towards them; they have always been considered the coolest and funniest boys in their class, perhaps even in the whole school. Anna-Karin wonders who decided that. When had everyone got together and crowned them kings?

But it doesn’t make any difference now. Those days are gone. Anna-Karin has seen to that.

Robin and Kevin have reached their table now. She turns to Julia and Felicia and rolls her eyes dramatically. They roll theirs back.

‘We were thinking of sitting with you, if that’s okay,’ Robin says.

Kevin pulls out the chair next to Anna-Karin. She stares
at
him as Julia and Felicia hold their breath. ‘I don’t think so,’ she says flatly, and Kevin lets go of the chair as if he’d just burned himself on it.

‘Maybe some other time,’ Robin says.

‘Maybe not,’ she says.

Robin is disappointed. He thinks no one can tell, but she picks up on everything.

‘’Bye,’ she says, and waves at him exaggeratedly.

‘Yeah. ’Bye, Anna-Karin.’ Robin sighs and shuffles off with Kevin in tow.

Felicia and Julia giggle behind their backs.

‘They’re such losers,’ Felicia says, just before they’ve moved out of earshot.

‘
Soooo
immature,’ says Julia.

Anna-Karin picks up her spoon and starts to eat the brownish-green pea soup. It looks disgusting but, these days, she eats everything. Her body is crying out for nourishment. She wonders how much energy her powers are sucking out of her. She can hardly stop herself from emptying the bowl into her mouth and swallowing it all in big gulps.

‘Where did you lot disappear to after history?’ Ida sets her tray down opposite Anna-Karin but ignores her. She sits down and glares accusingly at Julia and Felicia.

‘We just went ahead,’ says Julia.

‘To get a good table,’ Felicia adds.

Ida snorts. ‘You could have asked me if I wanted to come instead of running off like that.’

‘We didn’t run,’ Felicia retorts.

‘Well, ex
cuuuse
me,’ Ida says, then looks at Anna-Karin.

Her eyes are full of hate. But what can she do? Ida knows what Anna-Karin can do to her if she confronts her. Anna-Karin can make her reveal her darkest secrets, make her strip naked on the tables, whatever she wants. Ida drinks some water and looks away. She knows she can never win.

Felicia and Julia are clearly ill at ease. They seem to be searching for something to say, anything, to break the uncomfortable silence. Anna-Karin doesn’t offer any help. The awkwardness of the situation makes Ida seem even more of an intruder. The person nobody wants around.

Felicia’s eyes search for something to comment on. They land on Vanessa, who’s standing by the salad bar. ‘What the hell is she wearing?’ Felicia snorts.

Julia and Ida start giggling hysterically. Vanessa is dressed in a pink shirt and a skirt that is so short it’s essentially a belt.

‘I don’t know what she’s doing here,’ says Ida, staring at her almost covetously. ‘I mean, what’s the point of her being at school now? It’s not as if she’s going to do any more with her life than squeeze out a few kids.’

Vanessa turns and looks straight at them. Julia and Felicia almost collapse in a fit of laughter. Vanessa doesn’t bat an eye lid. She pins her gaze on Anna-Karin, who has to look away.

Her expression has said everything. Anna-Karin may be able to trick everyone else, but she’s a fraud. Vanessa knows it. And so does Anna-Karin.

The old insecure Anna-Karin wants to let down her hair and hide behind it. But she’s someone else now. She’s in control. ‘Vanessa’s cool,’ Anna-Karin says. ‘She does her own thing.’

‘Exactly. She’s definitely got her own thing going,’ Felicia agrees quickly.

Anna-Karin looks at Ida. Her lips are pressed together in a thin line. She gets up. ‘This food is so disgusting – I can’t eat it. Are you two coming, or what?’

Julia and Felicia stare demonstratively into their bowls. As she waits a few seconds too long for an answer, Ida takes the silver chain hanging around her neck, wraps it around her finger and then lets go, setting the little silver heart spinning. There’s a hint of uncertainty in her eyes that Anna-Karin has never seen before. And when she walks away, nobody watches her go.

The red and yellow leaves in the forest around Kärrgruvan seem to glow in the afternoon sun. Minoo is sitting on the edge of the stage looking at Rebecka, who is standing in the middle of the old dance floor. A small tower of brightly coloured wooden bricks, borrowed from Rebecka’s siblings, stands next to Minoo. A rectangular green one hovers in the air above the tower before landing gently on top of the others with a faint click.

Rebecka rubs her forehead. Then she blinks and trains her eyes on the plastic box. A bright yellow cube rises up from it. It hangs in the air, then moves slowly towards the top of the tower.

Halfway up, it bumps against a blue brick. The construction wobbles, then collapses. The bricks are strewn across the stage. Rebecka curses.

‘But you’re improving,’ says Minoo.

‘You’ve no idea how difficult it is,’ says Rebecka.

Minoo feels a twinge in her gut. No, she doesn’t. She still has no idea how it feels to have a super-power. And her brain hasn’t been much use either. She’s spent hours on the Net and in the library, but it’s hard, if not impossible, to sift through all the information. Most of what’s been written about supernatural phenomena is muddled, contradictory or gibberish.

Rebecka’s power seems to come under the heading ‘telekinesis’. But Minoo doesn’t know where to start looking for something that might give them a hint of the connection between herself, Rebecka and the others. How do you go about finding a mysterious prophecy? Where are the parchments and ancient books when you need them?

Nothing has happened since that night in the fairground. No mysterious nocturnal excursions, no strange dreams, no stench of smoke in the morning. Instead of putting Minoo’s mind at rest, it’s made her even more uneasy. She feels as though she’s walking around with a safe dangling over her head.

And their so-called guide seems unable to shed any light on anything.

A few days after the night with the blood-red moon, Minoo had gone to school early to talk to Nicolaus. He was sitting in his office, surrounded by slips of paper and
documents
, and sweating in his dark blue cardigan and bright red tie.

When Minoo shut the door behind her he jumped as if she’d set off a firework in the room.

He stood up and she saw that he was wearing a pair of maroon corduroy trousers that clashed with his tie. ‘Go away!’ he said, in a stage whisper. ‘We’re not protected here!’

‘Could we meet tonight, then? At the fairground? We’ve got a few things to talk about.’

Nicolaus looked troubled. ‘I can’t … I mean … I don’t know anything … I don’t even know who I am.’

Suddenly Minoo became aware of a dark shadow gliding along the floor. She looked down and saw a pitch-black cat staring at her. Where one eye should have been there was an empty socket with jagged edges. Minoo didn’t want to look at the animal. She felt as though she’d get scabies in her eyes from looking at its scruffy coat with the scattered patches of bare skin.

Nicolaus recoiled when the cat jumped on to his desk and strolled across his papers.

‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with this creature,’ he complained. ‘It follows me wherever I go.’

The cat, which had lain down next to the telephone, turned its head and looked straight at Minoo again with its one eye.

‘What did you mean, you don’t know who you are?’ Minoo asked, as the mangy cat started to lick its tangled fur.

Nicolaus sighed deeply. ‘My name is Nicolaus Elingius. That’s what it says on my employment contract, and on
the
deeds that prove I’ve owned my humble dwelling for a year.’ His voice trembled as he continued: ‘But I don’t remember buying it. I don’t remember anything of my life here as caretaker. I don’t remember my mother or father. I don’t remember who I’ve loved or hated, if I’ve had any sons or daughters … I don’t remember where I’ve lived … or why I came …’ With his head in his hands, he mumbled a few archaic phrases that Minoo barely understood.

‘Well, you do know one thing – that you’re supposed to guide us,’ she said cautiously.

Nicolaus raised his head and looked at her with profound sadness. ‘I’ve forfeited that privilege. I was here, at the school, when Elias was put to death yet I did not prevent the atrocity that took place.’

‘You didn’t know.’

‘Dear child,’ Nicolaus interjected, ‘would you ask a blind man to lead the blind?’

Since then Nicolaus has seemed more and more confused each time Minoo has seen him. Once he stood in a corridor staring into a lamp as if he were under hypnosis while the students laughed behind his back. Now nobody’s seen him for several days.

Rebecka comes to the edge of the stage and nimbly heaves herself on to it. Together they gather up the toy bricks and put them back into the plastic box.

‘It feels wrong that we’re not all here,’ says Rebecka.

She’s said that a number of times over the past few weeks. Minoo drops the last brick into the box. Rebecka has tried
to
get everyone to meet at the fairground, but the only one who has shown any interest is Minoo. ‘They’ll probably understand eventually,’ she says.

‘What’ll make them understand?’ Rebecka asks, sounding almost angry. ‘Does someone else have to die? Wasn’t Elias’s death enough?’

Minoo wishes Rebecka hadn’t said his name. It conjures up the image she’s been trying hard to forget: the pale face, the slashed arm, the blood all over the floor and tiles. ‘But what can we do?’ she asks, trying to shake off the memory. ‘Out of nowhere we’re told we’re supposed to fight against evil and the destruction of the world. And then – nothing. We should at least have been given a task.’

‘But that’s the whole point,’ says Rebecka. ‘This is our task. What we’re doing now. We have to get to know each other. And we have to practise our skills. That’s what Ida said. When she wasn’t Ida, I mean.’

‘We know Anna-Karin’s “practising”,’ says Minoo.

‘I have to make her understand how dangerous it is. I’m going to talk to her again,’ Rebecka says, and rubs her forehead.

‘Are you all right?’ Minoo asks.

‘I’m fine. I can do it for a lot longer now. In the beginning it was only a few minutes before I’d have a headache. I recover much quicker, too.’

Minoo pulls her jacket more tightly around herself. The air is raw and damp, and the cold penetrates deep beneath her skin.

‘Something else has happened,’ says Rebecka. She takes
out
one of the bricks again and lays it on the floor between them. ‘Although I’m not sure if I can do it now,’ she says.

Rebecka’s eyes narrow from the strain. Minoo looks at the brick and wonders what’s going to happen. It doesn’t budge – Rebecka must be very tired. Then she sees it. The wisp of smoke is so thin that a soft breeze disperses it. But then more smoke billows up and a corner of the brick catches fire.

Rebecka looks up at her. For a second Minoo worries that she’ll accidentally set fire to her too. She has to resist the temptation to cover her face with her hands.

‘Freaky, right?’ Rebecka says quietly.

Minoo can only agree. At first the little flame is edged with blue, but it soon turns solid yellow. Now it’s spreading along two sides of the brick. Rebecka bends forward and blows it out.

‘When did this start?’ Minoo asks.

‘Yesterday. There was a lit candle on the table and I got it into my head that I’d try to put it out. It wasn’t hard. It was like … pinching the flame with your fingers. So then I tried lighting it. I had an awful headache afterwards. Gustaf was really worried.’

‘He didn’t see, did he?’

‘No, of course not,’ Rebecka answers. Her gaze is distant. She pulls her hands inside the sleeves of her jacket. ‘It’s becoming almost impossible not to say anything to him. This is so huge.’

‘You
can’t
tell him!’ Minoo’s voice sounds shrill. She didn’t mean to shout. But she feels panicked by Rebecka’s
admission
. Doesn’t she remember?
Trust no one … Not even the love of your life
.

‘I know,’ Rebecka says. She’s quiet for a long moment. ‘It’s just that there’s so much else we don’t talk about.’

Minoo realises that this is one of those defining moments when two people may be on the verge of becoming really close friends.