Authors: Mats Sara B.,Strandberg Elfgren
Vanessa decides that Linnéa is just what she needs right now, after this chain-smoking old fruitcake with her death characters. They leave Mona Moonbeam and her stuffy little shop.
‘What the hell were you doing with that old bat?’ Linnéa asks, and fishes a packet of cigarettes out of her boot as they emerge from the mall. She lights one and holds it out to Vanessa, who takes it even though she usually only likes the taste when she’s drunk. Linnéa lights another for herself and they start to walk.
‘My mum insisted I came,’ Vanessa answers. She doesn’t want to talk about her fortune –she’d prefer to forget about it. ‘What were
you
doing there?’ she continues, before Linnéa gets the chance to ask any more questions.
‘Just picking up some stuff,’ Linnéa says, with a grin, and shows her a packet of incense she’d hidden in her other boot.
Vanessa’s impressed.
When they reach Storvall Park they stop beside the fountain.
‘Have you been back to the fairground?’ Linnéa asks.
Rebecka has tried to get Vanessa there several times, but she’s always said she’s seeing Wille or Michelle and Evelina.
She
doesn’t want to think about what happened that night.
Doesn’t want it in her life.
‘No. Have you?’ she asks,
‘No,’ Linnéa says, barely audibly. ‘I want to know why Elias died, but I don’t know what to do’
‘Maybe we should meet up with the others,’ Vanessa says, after a while. ‘Try to find out what’s going on.’
‘If I do anything, I’m going to do it by myself,’ Linnéa answers curtly.
Vanessa takes a drag and tries to hide how disgusting it tastes.
Behind Linnéa she sees one of the drunks who usually hang out in the park. He’s dancing an odd little jig on the greyish-brown grass. Totally gone in the head. But nice, Vanessa knows that because she used to get him to buy booze for her from the off-licence before she met Wille.
Linnéa tosses her cigarette on to the ground and pains-takingly grinds it out with her boot. Suddenly she looks annoyed. Is she afraid that Vanessa’s going to ask to come home with her?
‘I’ve got to go,’ Vanessa says, to make it clear she’s not trying to become best friends.
Linnéa doesn’t answer.
Behind her the drunk is shaking his head. He staggers forward unsteadily, approaching them with jerky movements. ‘Hello!’ he calls.
‘Hi,’ Vanessa shouts back, and hopes he’ll be satisfied with that.
But he continues towards them. ‘Linnéa, the light and joy
of
my life!’ he calls, in the slurring, broken voice that all drunkards seem to acquire sooner or later.
‘Friend of yours?’ Vanessa asks, with a little laugh.
Linnéa doesn’t answer. She just walks away.
‘Linnéa!’ the lush shouts again.
He stops short in his bizarre dance, rocking back and forth, looking after Linnéa with empty eyes and gaping mouth.
Linnéa speaks to him so softly that Vanessa barely catches what she says.
‘’Bye, Dad.’
15
WHEN ANNA-KARIN OPENS
the front door she is met by the smell of freshly baked bread. A smile spreads across her face.
‘Hi, sweetheart, are you back from school?’ her mother calls from the kitchen.
‘Yes!’ Anna-Karin shouts back, as she hangs her jacket on the hook in the hall. She’s barely had a chance to take off her shoes before her mother rushes up and gives her a warm hug. She doesn’t stink of cigarettes because she’s stopped smoking. And the house smells of bread, soft soap and fresh air.
‘How was school today?’ her mother asks, letting go.
‘Good. I got everything right in the history test.’
‘My clever girl!’ her mother says proudly.
Anna-Karin doesn’t feel guilty that she guessed everything, then used her power on the teacher. She has some rules: she avoids manipulating her teachers as far as she can, and never uses her power on the science teachers, only on those who teach unnecessary subjects, like history, German and PE. None of that’s going to be of any use to her as a vet. And what would be the point of learning a load of meaningless stuff just to forget it afterwards?
‘I was baking some scones, and then it occurred to me that I might as well do some cinnamon buns, too.’ Her mother laughs, wiping a floury hand on her bright apron.
Her mother’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but Anna-Karin doesn’t mind. Soon her mother will discover how good it feels to
live
life. Then that smile will become genuine, she’s sure.
Pepper slinks down the stairs and stops at the bottom.
‘Hello, sweetie,’ Anna-Karin says, crouching and holding out her hand. Pepper’s eyes glisten yellow-green. His tail ticks guardedly back and forth. He doesn’t come any closer. She can’t understand what’s come over him. Little Pepper, who used to lie in her pocket and purr. ‘Come on, Pepper.’ Anna-Karin beckons. ‘Kss, kss, kss …’
He doesn’t budge.
Come here
, Anna-Karin thinks, as she looks deep into Pepper’s eyes.
Come here now. I just want to cuddle you
.
Pepper hisses at her and bolts back up the stairs.
‘Forget it, then,’ Anna-Karin hisses back at him.
Just then her mobile rings. It’s Rebecka’s number. Can’t she let it go? None of them understands how much Anna-Karin deserves her new life. And she’s not going to apologise for it.
This will never work, Rebecka thinks. I’ll never manage to bring them together.
She sticks her mobile into her pocket and looks around for Gustaf in the deserted Citygallerian. He left his scarf at
Leffe
’s kiosk when he was in there buying chocolate. ‘Wait here, and I’ll run back for it,’ he said.
He’s been away for a long time. Far too long.
Rebecka is shifting from one foot to the other, wishing she had something to read. Something other than her biology textbook. She scans the darkened shop windows in which her reflection appears as a shadow. She looks like a ghost inside the empty units. The only light is coming from the newly opened Crystal Cave.
Rebecka moves closer. The window is crammed with brass pyramids, tarot cards, incense, small angel statuettes and, of course, crystals in every conceivable size, shape, and colour. There is also a display of jewellery, a glittering mass of silver and cheap stones. Most of it looks like junk. But her eyes are drawn to a silver necklace with little red stones. Like tiny drops of blood around the neck. She rests her fingers on the glass. The necklace isn’t her style yet she wants it. She wants to buy it now, at once, and wear it all the time. If only she had the money …
Rebecka doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there looking at the necklace, when she feels the skin crawl on the back of her neck. Someone’s watching her, she’s sure.
She focuses her eyes on the reflection in the window. A blurred figure is standing behind her. She can only just make it out in the faint sunlight filtering through the front entrance to the mall, but she instantly recognises it.
She doesn’t dare turn. A few seconds pass but it feels like eternity. The figure is still standing there.
She sees someone moving around inside the Crystal Cave. A woman in a denim suit with a shock of blonde hair. She’s walking around, muttering to herself. If she would just look up and see Rebecka. But the woman disappears behind a curtain, and Rebecka realises there wouldn’t be a single witness if that figure were to come after her now. This dark shopping mall is the perfect place to attack someone, even though it’s the middle of the day, in the middle of the town. Her back tenses with fear.
Rebecka struggles hard to gather her courage. Nothing can be worse than standing there, waiting for something to happen. She tries to convince herself that she’s strong. She has a power she hadn’t known about last time the figure had stalked her.
She takes a deep breath and turns. Just then she hears the automatic doors open with a faint whisper. The figure has vanished. Gustaf is running towards her, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor. ‘Sorry it took so long,’ he says. ‘Leffe takes his job a little too seriously. I had to describe the scarf to get it back. I’d never thought about what colours the squares were—’
He breaks off and stares at her probingly. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s nothing. Did you see anyone on your way in?’
Gustaf looks at her quizzically. ‘No. Why do you ask?’
She forces a smile, cheerful and unconcerned. ‘I thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all.’ She turns to the Crystal Cave’s window. ‘Have you seen this new shop? Mostly horrible stuff, but a few nice things.’
‘Anything in particular you like?’
She points at the necklace.
‘I knew it,’ says Gustaf, and grins in satisfaction.
‘What?’
‘Nah, I was just thinking … It’s your birthday soon … I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
He laughs and she senses he’s already bought the necklace for her as a present, or at least planned to. He’s like a child. You can see everything in his face. It’s as if he’s never had to hide anything.
‘Just don’t go buying me anything too expensive,’ she says quietly, and hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.
They’ve tried to discuss the money issue, but it’s difficult. Gustaf’s parents have plenty and are happy to share it. By contrast, there’s never anything to spare in Rebecka’s big family. Gustaf always says her family is generous, too, that you give according to your means, which sounds sensible. If she had a lot to give she would. But when you don’t have much, it’s difficult to receive anything.
‘You’re so quiet,’ Gustaf says.
She realises she hasn’t said anything for a while. ‘I was thinking.’
‘Sometimes I wish I could see into your head,’ he says, and smiles.
‘You’d get bored pretty quickly,’ she answers, and puts her arm around his waist.
Rebecka studies the photo of her and Gustaf on the wall beside his bed. He had taken it – he had held the camera up
to
them during a walk by the sluice gates during the first week they were officially going out together.
She rests her head on his arm, lies close to him and feels the heat of his body.
‘I love you,’ he whispers, and his breath is warm against her ear.
‘I love you, too.’
Gustaf’s parents are having dinner at his mother’s boss’s house. But he and Rebecka had been as quiet as always while they had sex. It sticks with you, the knowledge that you have to be careful because someone might hear you or walk in at any moment.
‘Are you comfortable like that?’ he mumbles.
‘M-hm,’ Rebecka answers. She wriggles a little closer to him. She loves feeling his skin against hers, wants to press every square centimetre of her body against his. Gustaf puts his other arm around her and kisses her forehead.
The wind is picking up. The terraced house where Gustaf lives is on the last street before the forest takes over on this side of the town. There’s a mass grave from a cholera epidemic out there. They walked past it last summer: a few large blocks of stone mark its location. They felt cold even when the sun was on them and each stone was linked together by a thick black chain.
The memory of the grave brings with it other unwelcome thoughts. In her mind’s eye, Rebecka sees the figure reflected in the window, and feels again how her muscles tensed, as if she were preparing to defend herself. She tries to relax again, to hold on to the bliss of just a moment ago.
‘What is it?’ Gustaf asks.
‘What do you mean?’
Gustaf leans away from her slightly so he can look at her. ‘It’s like you’re … I don’t know how to put it … like you’re always somewhere else, these days.’
Rebecka opens her mouth to protest, but Gustaf asks, ‘Has something happened?’
She wriggles closer and presses her forehead to his chest. She’d rather not be looking at him when she lies to him. ‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘There’s a lot going on at school,’ she says.
She hears Gustaf’s heart beating inside his ribcage and wonders how it feels to be him, so calm and confident in all situations.
‘You spend a lot of time with Minoo now,’ he remarks.
Rebecka is surprised yet relieved by the change of subject. ‘Yes. I really like her. She’s so clever. And nice. She can be funny, too – sometimes I think she doesn’t realise it.’
‘We should do something, the three of us, some time.’
‘M-hm.’
‘Do you think she’d like any of my friends? Rickard, maybe?’
Rebecka imagines Rickard and Minoo together and has to giggle. Rickard is sweet, but he only ever talks about football. That couldn’t be more wrong for Minoo.
‘Why not?’
‘Minoo’s in love with someone.’ It just slips out of her.
‘Who?’
She’s promised not to tell anyone, and now she’s on the verge of doing so. It would feel so good to share a secret with Gustaf, to compensate for all the others she’s keeping from him.