You're Mine Now (16 page)

Sometimes Anna became blind to individual words. Often, it was an everyday word or one that was repeated so often that it became unrecognisable, hard to articulate and impossible to understand. This was something else.

The individual letters were swimming. Black spots on a white background, familiar enough in their own right, but meaningless together. Anna forced her eyes to move from left to right, row after row, from the top to the bottom. And still she didn’t understand the words, even less the sentences.

Her brain wasn’t working. Wrong, it was overloaded and couldn’t take in what her eyes were registering. All the familiar sounds and voices of the office had gone too. Someone had pressed the mute button and the only thing Anna was aware of was her own tight lips. They felt as swollen as those of a surgery-happy porn queen.

She turned the page, kept on pretending to read, but all she saw was the silenced mobile.

Anna licked her lips. They were numb, as if she had eaten poison.

Turning the telephone off had not given her peace. It was almost growling. As if it were vibrating on its own. And the vibrations spread and made the desk shake, made the lights on the ceiling and the bookshelves shake so much that the files and books and paper spilled out on to the floor while people screamed and took cover under their desks, but to no avail.

‘Hello, earth to Anna Stenberg.’

She looked up and saw Sissela shaking her head.

‘What?’

‘Lunch?’

‘Absolutely. Yes.’

Anna dropped the printout she was staring at blindly and got up.

‘She didn’t get any sleep again last night,’ she heard Sissela explaining to Trude.

Erik looked down at the floor, his eyes darting back and forth.

‘I don’t what it is,’ he said. ‘This past year, since Mum died. Everything’s falling apart. I thought moving here would change things. Then I met Anna, I thought that finally…’

His eyes pleaded with Kathrine.

‘Have you never met someone and just felt that it was right, almost like fate?’

Kathrine scrutinised his face, didn’t know what to think.

‘I didn’t mean any harm,’ he said. ‘I’m just lonely.’

Kathrine hesitated. Erik lowered his head, resigned, with a sheepish smile.

‘I feel so stupid,’ he said. ‘It’s as if I’ve become someone I don’t want to be, that I’ve been forced into it. And not being able to explain myself just makes things worse. A bit like when someone says that you’re weird. There’s no way to answer it. What can you say? That you’re not? How normal does that make you sound?’

Kathrine nodded, encouraging him to continue.

‘It’s a vicious circle,’ he said. ‘Anna decides it’s over and I have no choice but to accept it. If I try to do anything, I’m accused of being difficult and a pest, and worse. And suddenly there you are with your hands out, swearing and promising that you’re normal.’

He shook his head in despair at the impossible situation.

‘You’re the first person who’s spoken to me,’ he continued.

‘The video…’

‘I’ve deleted it,’ Erik said, and lowered his eyes. ‘To be honest, against my will. It was the only thing I had. But at same time, I understand…’

He looked up.

‘My reasons for recording it weren’t dishonourable, I want you to know that. I realise that it seems slightly perverse to even think of it, but I just wanted something to remind me of our time together. Anna and me.’

‘So the video is gone? Doesn’t exist any more?’

‘I wouldn’t want to risk it falling into the wrong hands.’

‘What do you mean?’

Erik shrugged.

‘You never know. It was wrong of me to do it in the first place and it’s not something I normally do. I hope that you’ll believe that.’

Kathrine didn’t say anything. Her silence forced him to continue. He laughed with embarrassment and waved his hands, shifted position.

‘I don’t know what to do now,’ he said. ‘I don’t have a job, I don’t know anyone. I’ll probably move back to Stockholm. There’s nothing here, really.’

‘Maybe it’s just as well,’ Kathrine said.

He reacted strongly. As if he’d been hoping for her to object, to persuade him otherwise, and felt let down.

‘It really meant something to me,’ he retorted. ‘For Anna it was just a bit of fun, a welcome break from boring everyday life. Something to boast about to her friends.’

‘You don’t know my daughter. She would never say a word.’

‘Wouldn’t she?’ Erik objected. ‘You seem to be very well informed.’

‘The only reason she told me is that you frightened her.’

‘I frightened her? She’s the one scaring me. How can a grown-up woman jump into bed with someone without it meaning anything? Explain that to me. And then when it no longer suits them, they just leave with a supercilious “Thanks, bye”.’

He regretted this outburst and tried to recapture his humiliated mood by adopting submissive body language. Kathrine watched him. She breathed through her nose and nodded to herself.

‘Just like my daughter said,’ she concluded.

‘What did she say?’

‘That you seem to be perfectly normal, but you’re not.’

‘Did she say that?’

Erik’s look was amused and patronising. Kathrine had a sad expression on her face.

‘I normally credit myself with being naive and believing the best of people,’ she said. ‘And contrary to what most people think, it comes at a price. It requires hard work and conscious effort. You have to dismiss the thought that people don’t wish you well. If you don’t, you become suspicious of everyone and end up bitter and cynical.’

Erik ran his tongue along his lower lip, pulled a bored face. Kathrine looked at him long and hard.

‘So why do I get the feeling that you don’t wish me well?’ she said. ‘Neither me, nor my daughter.’

The telephone interrupted her. It was in her bag out in the hall. She got up to answer it.

‘I’m going to take this call. I think you and I have said all there is to say.’

Anna’s lips felt less swollen after some food and she had returned to reality. She heard what was being said and could even make small comments to prove her existence. Which was important. Sissela was an anxious general who needed constant reassurance. Anyone who held back or wasn’t present could reckon on getting a veiled dressing down that was hard to counter. In a way, her insecurity was justified: Anna and Trude made a far more natural unit. They enjoyed each other’s company, laughed at the same things and not necessarily at the expense of others. Sissela’s humour depended on having a victim as it was the exclusion of others that gave her a sense of belonging.

‘So, what do you reckon? Shall we have coffee upstairs?’

They left the canteen in good humour and walked towards the lift.

‘Anna.’

Renée stood up behind reception.

‘Your mum called.’

‘Oh, thank you.’

‘Will you be in a meeting all afternoon as well?’

Anna could feel her boss’s curious eyes on her neck.

‘No, not this afternoon,’ she replied.

They went into the lift.

‘In a meeting?’ Sissela quipped. ‘I didn’t notice.’

‘I had to say that so I could get my work done. Everything gets so fragmented when the phone rings all the time.’

‘Oh to be so in demand,’ Sissela said ironically, and sent a glance to Trude. ‘I wish I was as interesting.’

Anna left them in the kitchen, went to her desk and called her mother. She looked around while she listened to the ring tone, on and on. The office was almost empty and none of her colleagues was within earshot. The call was transferred to voicemail, so she hung up.

She dialled the direct number to Karlsson, the policeman she had spoken to.

‘Yes, I went over and had a chat with him,’ he said, pleased with himself. ‘And I think I got him to realise how serious the matter was. If you hear from him again, just give me a call.’

‘Thank you,’ Anna said, and felt her body relax. ‘If you knew how much that meant to me. Thank you so much.’

She finished the call and was on the verge of crying for joy. Suddenly she became aware of the pain. She felt an ache in her back and shoulders, and her head was pounding with released tension, as if she’d been in an exam for hours.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Kathrine exclaimed. ‘Let me past.’

Erik had stood up and was blocking her way.

‘What’s wrong with you? I need to get this. It’s Anna. I’m going to tell her. That she was right all along. It wasn’t her imagination.’

Kathrine tried to push Erik to the side. He put his arm across her chest and pulled her back.

‘What are you doing? Let me go!’

She screamed and Erik put his hand over her mouth.

‘Be quiet,’ he said, ‘don’t scream.’

Kathrine tried to get free and Erik responded by pressing harder. He pinched her nose between his thumb and index finger. She flailed with her arms. He had no choice, he was forced to hold tighter. Kathrine tried to claw herself loose, but Erik had no problem holding on to her. She twisted in desperation, screamed for air and kicked out in a futile attempt to free herself. He hushed in her ear.

‘Please, don’t scream.’

The telephone stopped ringing, but the last signal seemed to fill the flat.

‘Shhh,’ Erik commanded. ‘Take it easy.’

Kathrine’s back was arched like a bow and she kicked powerlessly into thin air. Erik closed his eyes and kept a firm grip. Kathrine shuddered and her body slumped into an ungainly mass. Erik kept hold of her for a while before gently releasing her on to the floor.

‘Promise to be quiet,’ he said. ‘Promise.’

Anna put the phone down and went out into the kitchen. She got herself a cup of coffee, then went to join the others.

‘We’re sitting here wondering if anything has happened,’ Sissela said.

‘We?’ Trude objected. ‘Speak for yourself.’

‘Happened? What do you mean?’

‘You’re not sleeping at night, asking for all your calls to be held. Then he drives you to work. Has he done something stupid?’

‘Who?’

‘Magnus. Has he been unfaithful?’

‘What are you talking about?’

Sissela held up her hands in innocence.

‘Okay, okay, sorry. We just wanted to make sure you’re all right.’

‘Again,’ Trude said. ‘Speak for yourself.’

Sissela turned to her.

‘Don’t you want to make sure that Anna’s all right?’

Trude gave a resigned sigh.

‘Sissela, give it a break.’

Anna got up.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, and went back into the office.

‘What?’ Sissela exclaimed. ‘I was only joking.’

Anna went over to her desk, picked up the mobile phone, which was turned off, played with it for a while, then turned it on again. She waited anxiously while it found the server. Thirty seconds later she saw that no one had tried to get hold of her, at least, no one had made the effort to leave a message or send a text.

The feeling of happiness made her cheeks glow. She called her mother again. Four rings until the voicemail kicked in.

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me. You rang. Sorry I was so short with you yesterday. He called. But the police have been to speak to him now. Hope he’ll stop. Hope, hope, hope. I’ll try again later. Lots of love.’

Erik sat on the floor, sweating. He looked at Kathrine, stretched out his arm and pressed his fingers against her neck. Looking for a pulse. He slapped her lightly on the cheeks. No reaction. Her face was sagging, which made her look different.

Erik got up abruptly, looked around before pointing at her.

‘I told you to be quiet,’ he said, and nudged her with his foot. ‘Kathrine?’

He backed into the kitchen table, forced himself to breathe slowly.

‘I wasn’t holding that hard,’ he said. ‘You only have yourself to blame, you wouldn’t listen.’

Her eyes were wide open, empty and accusing at the same time. Erik turned away, didn’t want to look at her.

‘You forced me.’

Kathrine’s phone started to ring again. He edged past her lifeless body as if it were a poisonous snake, opened her handbag and looked at the illuminated screen on the mobile phone: Anna.

Erik wanted to answer, to hear her voice. He had to fight the impulse.

The phone stopped ringing. He looked at Kathrine. There were no signs of asphyxiation. He hadn’t held her mouth that hard, just stopped her from screaming. And now she was lying there. Not moving, with a sagging face and staring eyes. He bent down and poked her gently on the shoulder.

It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t done anything. Just restrained her, and not particularly hard. It wasn’t his fault. She’d been completely hysterical, like a different person.

Maybe she suffered from a congenital heart defect. It wasn’t impossible, in fact it might be quite possible. An aneurysm or something that suddenly, without warning…

‘Think,’ he admonished himself. ‘Think, think, think.’

He couldn’t let an unfortunate mistake ruin his future. It wasn’t fair. Life had never been fair, not to him, enough was enough. This was yet more proof that he always drew the short straw. Why was he being punished? It was wrong. Wrong from a divine perspective. He was young, she was old. Old and meddling and smug. The world was no worse off without her, that was for sure. Not in any way.

It was Anna’s fault. She had poisoned her mother with her malicious stories. She was a pathetic coward who had rewritten events so she could walk free.

Erik had tried. He’d listened. And how had she thanked him? By accusing him of awful things. Just like her daughter, Kathrine claimed to know how the world worked and refused to see that her truth wasn’t necessarily the same as someone else’s. A self-righteous and obnoxious know-all, and when something didn’t suit her, she simply closed her eyes and smiled like a dissenting pastor when Darwin was mentioned.

He needed time. Anna would continue to ring. He looked at the clock. Quarter to one. Anna was at work.

There was a ping on Kathrine’s telephone.

A text from the operator to say she had a voicemail. He picked Kathrine’s phone out of the handbag and listened to it. Anna’s familiar voice. He’d now heard it in so many variations.

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me. You rang. Sorry I was so short with you yesterday. He called. But the police have been to speak to him now. Hope he’ll stop. Hope, hope, hope. I’ll try again later. Lots of love.’

He called.

The way she said it. As if he were a madman who was stalking her. As if she didn’t want his attention and would rather he stayed away. As if he were the only one who was interested. Erik felt his face flush with anger. She was lying. Shamelessly and wilfully.

Another thought forced its way into his conscience. Anna hadn’t mentioned Kathrine coming to see Erik, or asked how it went. In other words, Kathrine had been telling the truth when she said that she was there of her own accord.

Good, good, good, very good. Practical, if nothing else.

He went back to the messages. Opened the thread with Anna, read through what had been written. Short, witty messages: reminders, congratulations, questions about birthday presents, comments, exclamations. Nothing about him, nothing.

He went through Kathrine’s other messages, the majority of them to and from old friends. About everything possible, but generally family and practical arrangements for cultural outings. Galleries, art centres, trips to the theatre and cinema. The longest thread, apart from the one with Anna, was with a someone called Ditte. Erik read all the messages and decided that she was a Danish culture vulture and Kathrine often went to the opera and the Kongelige Teater in Copenhagen with her. He almost felt he knew the woman when the phone started to ring and vibrate again. The screen showed
ANNA
and Erik pressed
FINISH
CALL
in sheer panic.

Not good. Or maybe it was good. Maybe it was perfect.

Anna was obviously used to getting hold of her mother without any difficulty whenever she wanted and would therefore carry on trying until Kathrine answered.

Erik needed time. Time and an alibi. He went into messages and wrote:

He hesitated momentarily before pressing
SEND
. The text message winged its way. He was glad. For about half a second. Then it hit him that he had no idea who Ditte was or what she did. Maybe she was abroad or lying in a coma. He’d taken a chance and that was stupid. And what’s more, you could trace telephones. He would have to get rid of it.

He put the phone down on the kitchen table and walked around the flat. He had to keep calm. Not give in to panic. He looked at Kathrine’s lifeless body. She wasn’t a big woman. Couldn’t weigh much more than sixty kilos. He got her handbag and put it on the table, then went through the contents. A purse containing six hundred and forty kronor in cash, about twenty receipts and half a dozen loyalty cards from various retail chains. He put the cash and keys in his pocket and closed the handbag.

Sixty kilos was nothing. He’d filleted halibuts that weighed three times as much when he worked behind the fish counter. He looked at her, caught a whiff of urine and faeces. He rolled up his sleeves as far as he could, bent down and lifted her up. Her head flopped to one side and he dropped the body in a panic. Kathrine fell to the floor with a bump and he stared at her without breathing.

When he realised that she hadn’t moved of her own volition, he bent down and picked her up again. Her behind sagged and he had to fold her arms in a rocking position in order not to drop the body.

Her weight wasn’t a problem. She was probably closer to fifty than sixty kilos. He put her down in the bath and washed his arms in the sink. Not because they were dirty, more for the sake of it. They felt unclean.

He inspected the floor. It was wet, but that was all, just urine. Any shit was in her pants. He dried the floor with kitchen roll.

He would have to get the body out of the flat as soon as possible, but without doing anything rash and desperate, or he risked being discovered. But how could he get a body out? He couldn’t, certainly not in one piece.

Erik went back to the bathroom and studied her body. She was a fish, he’d just have to look at it like that.

Another ping on the mobile phone. He went over to the kitchen table and had a look. New message.

Erik replied:

Lots of women were terrified of becoming their mothers. Whether it was their voice, or movements, sagging skin, unwillingness to change or whatever. Few things seemed to scare middle-aged women more than any similarity with the source of their origins.

The opposite was true of Anna. She couldn’t imagine a better fate. There were times when she wished she could be exactly like her mother. She even envied Kathrine her age. Anna wanted to be at the stage in life where she no longer worried about silly things, where she felt strong enough to say what she thought and humble enough not to judge. Her mother never forgot that everyone had their story and all you had to do was scratch the surface with a nail.

Anna’s mother was able to enjoy life, and she still wanted to improve herself.

Copenhagen, for example. Nine out ten people were forever banging on about how close to the continent they were, but how often did they actually cross the water? It wasn’t exactly every day.

Anna lifted the receiver and called reception.

‘You are letting calls through again, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, absolutely,’ Renée assured her.

‘It’s just the phone’s so quiet.’

‘That’s because no one has called.’

‘Okay, that’s good. Thanks.’

Anna picked up the printout with the incomprehensible soup of letters and made another attempt. This time the letters formed words that made sentences that combined made a largely understandable, if not particularly interesting, text.

Erik found a piece of paper and pen and sat down at the kitchen table. He tapped the bottom of the pen against his teeth. What did he need?