The Hidden Child (28 page)

Axel realized that Britta was waiting for his reply. He forced himself back from the past and tried to find an answer in the present. But as always, the two were hopelessly intertwined, and the sixty years that had passed merged in his memory into a muddle of people, encounters, and events. His hand holding the coffee cup began to tremble, and finally he said, ‘I don’t know. I think so. As good as I deserved.’

‘I’ve had a good life, Axel. And I decided a long time ago that I deserved it. You should do the same.’

His hand trembled even more, making coffee splash on to the sofa.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry . . . I . . .’

Herman leapt to his feet. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get a dishcloth.’ He went out to the kitchen and quickly returned with a damp blue-checked kitchen towel, which he cautiously pressed over the upholstery.

Britta gave a little shriek, making Axel jump. ‘Oh, now Mamma is going to be cross with me. Her fancy sofa. This is bad.’

Axel cast an enquiring glance at Herman, who responded by rubbing on the stain even harder.

‘Do you think you can get it off? Mamma is going to be so cross with me!’ Britta rocked back and forth, anxiously watching Herman’s efforts to wipe up the coffee. He straightened up and slipped his arm around his wife. ‘It will be fine, sweetheart. I’ll get rid of the stain. I promise.’

‘Are you sure? Because if Mamma gets mad, she might tell Pappa, and . . .’ Britta wrung her hands and nervously chewed on her knuckles.

‘I promise that I’ll get rid of it. She won’t even notice.’

‘Oh, good, That’s good,’ said Britta, relaxing. Then she gave a start and stared at Axel. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

He looked at Herman for guidance.

‘It comes and goes,’ he said, sitting down next to Britta and patting her hand. She studied Axel intently, as if there was something annoying or baffling about his face, something that kept eluding her. Then she grabbed Axel’s hand and moved her face close to his.

‘He’s calling to me, you know.’

‘Who?’ said Axel, fighting an urge to withdraw his face, his hand, his body.

Britta didn’t reply at first. Then he heard the echo of his own words.

‘Certain things just can’t be swept under the rug,’ she whispered, her face only centimetres away from his own.

He tore his hand out of her grip and looked at Herman over Britta’s silvery-grey hair.

‘So now you can see for yourself,’ said Herman wearily. ‘What do we do next?’

‘Adrian! Cut that out!’ Anna was struggling so hard that she broke into a sweat with the effort of getting her son dressed. Lately he’d turned his wriggling into an art form, making it impossible to get him into his clothes. She’d managed to hold on to him just long enough to pull up a pair of under-pants, but then he tore loose and started running all over the house.

‘Adrian! Come on now! Please. Mamma doesn’t have time for this. We’re going to drive with Dan to Tanumshede to do some shopping. You can go look at the toys in Hedemyr’s,’ she said, desperate to win his cooperation, for all that she knew bribes probably weren’t the best way to handle the getting-dressed problem. But what else could she do?

‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ asked Dan when he came downstairs and saw her sitting on the floor next to a pile of clothes while Adrian continued to race around like crazy. ‘My class starts in half an hour. I’ve got to leave.’

‘Fine. Do it yourself then,’ snapped Anna, tossing Adrian’s clothes at Dan. He looked at her in surprise. She certainly hadn’t been in the best of moods lately, but maybe that wasn’t so strange. Merging two families was turning out to be much harder than either of them had anticipated.

‘Come on, Adrian,’ said Dan, grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck as he dashed past. ‘Let’s see if I still know how to do this.’ He got socks on the boy with relative ease, but that was it. Adrian resumed his wriggling and flat-out refused to put on his trousers. Dan made a couple of attempts, but then he too lost patience. ‘Adrian, sit still NOW!’

Looking astonished, Adrian stopped instantly. Then his face turned bright red. ‘You’re NOT my pappa! Get out of here! I want my pappa! PAPPA!’

That was too much for Anna. All the memories of Lucas and that terrible time when she’d lived like a prisoner in her own home came flooding back, and she started to cry. She rushed upstairs and threw herself on to the bed, where she gave into wrenching sobs.

Then she felt a gentle hand on her back. ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong? It’s not that bad. He’s not used to the situation, and he’s testing us, that’s all it is. You should have seen how Belinda was at his age. He’s a rank amateur compared to her. One time I was so sick and tired of her making such a fuss about getting dressed that I set her outside the door in nothing but her knickers. Pernilla was furious – it was December, after all. But I only left her outside for a minute.’

Anna didn’t laugh. Instead she cried even harder, and she was shaking all over.

‘Sweetie, what is it? You’re making me really worried. I know that you’ve been through a lot, but we can make this work. Everybody just needs a little time, and then things will calm down. You . . . you and I . . . together we can make this work.’

She raised her tear-stained face to look at him and then propped herself up on the bed.

‘I-I know . . .’ she stammered as she tried to stop crying. ‘I know that . . . and I don’t understand . . . why I’m reacting . . . this way.’ Dan stroked her back and the sobs began to subside. ‘I’m just a little . . . oversensitive . . . I don’t understand. I usually only act this way when I’m . . .’ Anna stopped in mid-sentence and stared at Dan, open-mouthed.

‘What?’ he said, looking puzzled. ‘You usually only act this way when what?’

Anna couldn’t bring herself to reply, and after a moment she saw a light go on in his eyes.

Then she nodded. ‘I usually only act this way when I’m . . . pregnant.’

There was utter silence in the bedroom. Then they heard a little voice from the doorway.

‘I’m dressed now. I did it all by myself. I’m a big boy. Can we go to the toy shop now?’

Dan and Anna looked at Adrian standing in the doorway, beaming with pride. His trousers were on backwards, and his shirt was inside out, but it was true: he had put on his clothes. All by himself.

Even out in the hallway it smelled good. Filled with anticipation, Mellberg went into the kitchen. Rita had phoned just before eleven o’clock to ask whether he’d like to come over for lunch since Señorita had expressed a desire to play with Ernst. He hadn’t asked how her dog had communicated this desire. Certain things should just be accepted like manna from heaven.

‘Hi there.’ Johanna was standing next to Rita, helping her chop vegetables. Clearly it was a bit of an effort, for her stomach forced her to keep some distance from the counter.

‘Hi. It smells so good in here,’ said Mellberg, sniffing at the air.

‘We’re making chilli con carne,’ said Rita, coming over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Mellberg resisted an impulse to raise his hand and touch the spot where her lips had been. Instead, he sat down at the table, which was set for four.

‘Is someone else joining us?’ he asked, looking at Rita.

‘My partner is coming home for lunch,’ said Johanna, rubbing her back.

‘Shouldn’t you sit down?’ said Mellberg, pulling out a chair. ‘It must be hard to carry all that weight around.’

Johanna complied and sat down next to him, breathing heavily. ‘Oh, you have no idea. Hopefully it won’t be long now. It’s going to feel great to get rid of this.’ She ran her hand over her belly. ‘Would you like to feel?’ she asked Mellberg when she saw his expression.

‘Could I?’ he asked sheepishly. He hadn’t discovered his own son’s existence until Simon was a teenager, so this part of parenthood was a mystery to him.

‘Here, the baby’s kicking.’ Johanna took his hand and placed it on the left side of her belly.

Mellberg gave a start as he felt a strong kick against his hand. ‘Good heavens! That’s amazing. Doesn’t it hurt?’ He stared at her abdomen as he kept feeling solid kicks against the palm of his hand.

‘Not really. Sometimes it’s a little uncomfortable when I’m trying to sleep. My partner thinks the baby is going to be a football player.’

‘I’m inclined to agree with him,’ said Mellberg, not wanting to take his hand away. The experience stirred strange feelings inside him that he could hardly define. Longing, fascination, regret . . . He wasn’t really sure. ‘Does his father have a talent for football that the baby might inherit?’ he said with a laugh. To his great surprise, his question was greeted with silence. He looked up to meet Rita’s astonished expression.

‘But Bertil, don’t you know that . . .’

At that moment the front door opened.

‘How good it smells, Mamma,’ they heard from the hall. ‘What are you making? Your special chilli?’

Paula came into the kitchen, and her look of surprise was even greater than Mellberg’s.

‘Paula?’

‘Boss?’

Thoughts whirled through Mellberg’s mind until the pieces fell into place. Paula, who had moved here with her mother. Rita, who had recently moved here. And the dark eyes. To think he hadn’t noticed earlier. They had exactly the same eyes. There was just one thing that he didn’t really . . .

‘So, I see that you’ve met my partner,’ said Paula, putting her arm around Johanna’s shoulders. She stared at Mellberg, waiting to see his reaction. Challenging him to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing.

Out of the corner of her eye Rita was watching him tensely. She held a wooden spoon in one hand, but she’d stopped stirring as she too waited for his reaction. A thousand thoughts raced through Mellberg’s head. A thousand prejudices. A thousand things that he’d said over the years that might have been better not said. But suddenly he realized that this was the moment in his life when he had to say the right thing, do the right thing. Too much was at stake, and with Rita’s dark eyes fixed on him, he said calmly:

‘I didn’t know you were about to become a mother. And so soon. I see that congratulations are in order. Johanna was kind enough to let me feel that wildcat inside there, so I tend to agree with your theory that she’s going to give birth to a future football player.’

Paula didn’t move for a few more seconds, her arm around Johanna and her eyes riveted on his, trying to determine if there was any veiled sarcasm in what he’d said. Then she relaxed and smiled. ‘It’s amazing to feel all that kicking, isn’t it?’ The whole room seemed to implode with relief.

Rita went back to stirring the chilli as she said with a laugh: ‘That’s nothing compare to how you kicked, Paula. I remember that your father used to joke about it, saying it felt like you were looking to find a different way out than the usual exit.’

Paula kissed Johanna on the cheek and sat down at the table. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was staring at Mellberg with astonishment. He, in turn, was feeling enormously pleased with himself. He still thought it was strange that two women would live together, and the fact that one of them was pregnant seemed especially bewildering. Sooner or later he’d be forced to satisfy his curiosity about that. And yet, he’d said the right thing. To his great surprise, he’d also meant what he’d said.

Rita set the pot of chilli on the table and urged them to help themselves. The look she gave Mellberg was the final proof that he’d done well.

He could still feel Johanna’s bulging skin under his hand, and the child’s foot kicking against his palm.

‘You’re just in time for lunch. I was about to give you a call.’ Patrik tasted a spoonful of the tomato soup and then set the saucepan on the table.

‘Now that’s what I call service. What’s the occasion?’ Erica came into the kitchen and kissed him on the back of the neck.

‘You think this is all? Do you mean that I could have impressed you just by making you lunch? Jeez, that means that I’ve done the laundry, cleaned up the living room, and changed the light bulb in the bathroom all for nothing.’ Patrik turned around and kissed her on the lips.

‘Whatever drug you’re on, I’d like some too,’ said Erica, looking at him in surprise. ‘Where’s Maja?’

‘She fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago. So we’ll be able to eat lunch in peace and quiet, just you and me. And after that, you can zip back upstairs to work while I wash the dishes.’

‘Okay . . . Now it’s getting to be a little too much,’ said Erica. ‘Either you’ve embezzled all our money, or you’re about to tell me that you have a mistress, or that you’ve been accepted into NASA’s space programme and you’ll be spending the next year circling the planet in a spaceship . . . Or has my husband been kidnapped by aliens, and you’re some sort of android, half human and half robot?’

‘How did you know about NASA?’ said Patrik with wink. He put a few slices of bread in a basket and sat down at the kitchen table across from Erica. ‘No, the truth is I had a little epiphany when I was out walking with Karin today, and . . . well, I just thought I should help you out more. But don’t think you’ll get this sort of treatment every day. I can’t guarantee that I won’t have a relapse.’

‘So the only thing I need to do to get my husband to help out more around the house is to send him on a date with his ex-wife? I’ll have to tell my women friends about this.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ said Patrik, blowing on a spoonful of hot soup. ‘It wasn’t really a date, you know. And she’s not having a very easy time of it.’ He briefly recounted what Karin had told him, and Erica nodded. Even though Karin seemed to be getting considerably less support at home than she’d had, it still sounded very familiar.

‘So how was your morning?’ asked Patrik, slurping a bit as he ate his soup.

Erica’s face lit up. ‘I found a lot of good stuff. You wouldn’t believe the things that happened in Fjällbacka during the Second World War. All kinds of smuggling went on, both to and from Norway – food, news, weapons, and people. Both German defectors and Norwegian resistance fighters came here. And later there were the mines to contend with. A number of fishing boats and cargo ships were lost, along with their crews and everything on board, when they ran into mines. And did you know that in 1940 a German fighter plane was shot down by the Swedish air force just outside of Dingle? All three crewmen were killed. I’ve never heard anyone mention any of this. I always had the impression the war had hardly any impact in these parts, aside from the food and petrol rationing.’