The Hidden Child Read online

  Then she said, ‘I took care of my work even though I was watching Maja for a little while yesterday, and that’s the only thing that you need to worry about, Bertil.’

  A silent power struggle was played out as Annika calmly met Mellberg’s gaze. Finally he looked away, muttering, ‘Well, all right, you’re probably the best judge of –’

  ‘Besides, it was thanks to Patrik dropping by that we realized we’d forgotten to check on Erik’s bank accounts.’ Paula winked at Annika to show her support.

  ‘I’m sure we would have thought of it sooner or later . . . but thanks to Patrick it ended up being sooner, instead of later,’ said Gösta, and he glanced at Annika before he lowered his eyes and returned to studying the tabletop.

  ‘Okay, but I thought he was on paternity leave,’ said Mellberg sullenly, well aware that he’d lost the battle. ‘What are you all waiting for? Now that we have something to go on, let’s get busy.’ Everybody got up and put their coffee cups in the dishwasher.

  At that moment the phone rang.

  Chapter 20

  Fjällbacka 1944

  ‘I thought I’d find you here.’ Elsy sat down next to Erik, sheltered in the cleft of a boulder.

  ‘This is where I have the greatest chance of being left in peace,’ said Erik crossly, but then his expression softened and he closed the book he was holding on his lap.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to take out my bad mood on you.’

  ‘Is Axel the reason for your bad mood?’ asked Elsy gently. ‘How are things at home?’

  ‘It’s like he’s already dead,’ said Erik, gazing out over the water that was lapping restlessly at the entrance to Fjällbacka harbour. ‘At least my mother is acting that way, as if he’s already dead. And my father just goes around muttering, refusing to even talk about it.’

  ‘What about you? How do you feel?’ asked Elsy, studying her friend. She knew Erik so well. Better than he thought. They’d spent so many hours playing together – she and Erik, Britta and Frans. There weren’t many games left for them to play, now that they were all almost grown up. But at this moment, she saw no difference between the fourteen-year-old Erik and the five-year-old boy, who even in short pants had seemed like an old man in a small body. It was as if Erik had been born a little old man who gradually grew into his proper self. As if the child’s body, the boy’s body, and now the young man’s, were stages he had to go through before he fit into the skin that suited him.

  ‘I don’t know how I feel,’ said Erik curtly, looking away. But he wasn’t fast enough, and Elsy saw tears welling up in his eyes.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ she said, staring at his profile. ‘Talk to me.’

  ‘I feel so . . . split. Part of me is so scared and sad about what’s happened, and is going to happen, to Axel. Just the thought that he might die makes me . . .’ He searched for the right words, but found none. But Elsy understood. She didn’t speak, just waited for him to continue.

  ‘But there’s another part of me that feels so . . . angry.’ His voice was deeper, hinting at how the adult Erik’s voice would sound. ‘I’m angry because now I’m even more invisible than I was before. I don’t exist. As long as Axel was at home, it was as though he could reflect on to me some of the light that shone on him. A tiny beam, every now and then. A little glint of light, of attention, would be aimed at me. And that was enough. I’ve never wanted more than that. Axel deserved to be in the spotlight, to have the attention. He’s always been better than me. I’d never dare do what he did. I’m not brave. I don’t attract attention. And I don’t have Axel’s ability to make the people around me feel good. Because that’s what I think his secret is . . . that he can always make other people feel good. I don’t have that talent. I make people nervous and uneasy. They don’t really know what to make of me. I know too much. I don’t laugh enough. I . . .’ He was forced to stop and take a breath, after what was quite possibly the longest continuous speech he’d ever given.

  Elsy couldn’t help laughing. ‘Be careful you don’t use up all your words at once, Erik. You’re usually so sparing with what you say.’ She smiled, but Erik clenched his jaws before going on.

  ‘But that’s exactly what I mean. And you know what? I think I could just start walking away, go further and further, just keep walking and never come back. And nobody at home would even notice that I was gone. To my mother and father I’m just a shadow on the periphery of their field of vision, and in some ways I think they’d find it a relief if that shadow disappeared so they could focus all their attention on Axel.’ His voice broke, and again he turned away in shame.

  Elsy put her arm around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, forcing him to come back from that dark place where he was trying to hide.

  ‘Erik, I know that they’d notice if you disappeared. They’re just . . . caught up in dealing with what happened to Axel.’

  ‘It’s been four months since the Germans took him,’ said Erik dully. ‘How long are they going to be focusing on that? Six months? A year? Two years? A lifetime? I’m here right now. I’m still here. Why doesn’t that mean anything? And at the same time I feel like a terrible person because I’m jealous of my brother who’s presumably sitting in prison and might be executed before anyone has a chance to see him again. What a great brother I am!’

  ‘Nobody doubts that you love Axel.’ Elsy patted his back. ‘But it’s not so strange that you also want to be seen, want to exist. And I for one know you do exist. But you have to tell them how you feel, you have to make them see you.’

  ‘I don’t dare.’ Erik shook his head. ‘What if they think I’m a terrible person?’

  Elsy took his head between her hands and forced him to look at her. ‘Listen to me, Erik Frankel. You are not a terrible person. You love your brother and your parents. But you’re also grieving. You have to talk to them about it, you have to demand a little space for yourself. Do you understand?’

  He tried to look away, but she was still holding his head between her hands, staring into his eyes.

  Finally he nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ll talk to them.’

  Impulsively Elsy put her arms around him and gave him a hug. She felt him relax as she stroked his back.

  ‘What the devil . . .?’ A voice behind them made them draw apart. Elsy turned around and saw Frans staring at them, his face white and his hands clenched into fists.

  ‘What the devil . . .!’ he repeated. He seemed to be having a hard time finding any other words. Else realized how it must have looked and spoke calmly in an attempt to make Frans understand what was really going on before his temper got away with him. She’d seen his anger flare as quickly as a lit match many times before. There was something about Frans that pushed him always to the verge of violence, as if he were constantly looking for reasons to lash out. And she was smart enough to know that he had a crush on her. In this situation, there might be disastrous consequences if she couldn’t manage to explain.

  ‘Erik and I were just sitting here talking.’ She spoke calmly and quietly.

  ‘Oh yeah, I can see you were just sitting and talking,’ said Frans, and there was something in his eyes that made Elsy shudder.

  ‘We were talking about Axel and how hard it’s been because he’s not here,’ she said, keeping her gaze fixed on Frans. The wild, cold look in his eyes faded a bit. She kept on talking. ‘I was consoling Erik. That’s what I was doing. Why don’t you sit down here and join us?’

  She patted the rock. He hesitated. But his fists had unclenched and the cold expression was now completely gone. He sighed heavily and sat down.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, without looking at her.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she replied, ‘but don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.’

  Frans sat there in silence for a while. Then he turned to look at her. The intensity of the emotion she saw in his eyes suddenly frightened her more than his cold anger had done. She had a premonition that this wasn’t going to end well.
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  She also thought about Britta and the infatuated looks she was always sending in Frans’s direction.

  No, this wasn’t going to end well.

  Chapter 21

  ‘She seems very nice.’ Karin smiled as she pushed Ludde in his pushchair.

  ‘Erica is the best,’ said Patrik, a smile tugging at his lips. Of course they’d had a few quarrels recently, but that wasn’t important. He counted himself a lucky man, waking up next to Erica every morning.

  ‘I wish I could say the same about Leif,’ said Karin. ‘But I’m starting to get really tired of being married to a dance band musician. I knew what I was getting myself into, though, so I suppose I can’t complain.’

  ‘Things change when you have kids,’ said Patrik, his remark half a statement and half a question.

  ‘You think so?’ replied Karin sarcastically. ‘Maybe I was naïve, but I had no idea how much work it is, and how many demands there are on a person when you have a young child, and . . . it’s not easy having to carry the entire load myself. Sometimes it feels like I’m the one who does all the hard work, getting up at night, changing nappies, playing with him, feeding him, taking him to the doctor when he’s sick. And then Leif comes waltzing in the door and Ludde welcomes him home as if he were Santa Claus. And that feels so unfair.’

  ‘But who does Ludde want if he hurts himself?’ asked Patrik.

  Karin smiled. ‘You’re right. I’m the one he wants. So I guess it means something to him after all that I’m the one who comforts him in the middle of the night. But I don’t know . . . I feel duped somehow. This isn’t the way things were supposed to be.’ She sighed and straightened Ludde’s cap, which had twisted round so that one ear was covered.

  ‘Personally, I’m finding it much more fun than I’d ever imagined,’ said Patrik, only realizing what a stupid remark it was when he caught the piercing look that Karin gave him.

  ‘Does Erica feel the same way?’ she asked sharply, and Patrik saw her point.

  ‘No, she doesn’t. Or at least she hasn’t during the past year,’ said Patrik. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of how pale and joyless Erica had been during the first months after Maja was born.

  ‘Could it be because Erica has been yanked out of her adult life to stay home with Maja, while you’ve gone off to work every day?’

  ‘But I’ve helped out as much as I could,’ Patrik protested. ‘Helped out, sure,’ said Karin, steering the pushchair and moving ahead as they came to a narrow stretch of road leading to Badholmen. ‘But there’s a huge difference between “helping out” and being the one who has to shoulder most of the responsibility. It’s not so simple to work out how to calm a crying baby, or how and when he needs to eat, or how to keep yourself and the child busy for at least five days a week, usually without any type of adult companionship. It’s a whole other matter to be the CEO of Baby Incorporated, compared with just being an assistant standing on the sidelines, taking inventory.’

  ‘But you can’t just lump all fathers together like that,’ said Patrik as he manoeuvred the pushchair up the steep hill. ‘Often the mothers don’t want to relinquish control, and if the husband does change a nappy, she’ll say he’s done it wrong, or if he feeds the baby, she’ll say he’s not holding the bottle properly, and so on. It’s not always so easy for the fathers to participate in that CEO role you’re talking about.’

  Karin didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Then she looked at Patrik and said, ‘Was Erica like that, when she stayed home with Maja? Refusing to let you participate?’ She waited for his answer.

  Patrik thought hard for a moment and then was forced to admit: ‘No, she wasn’t. I think I was actually glad not to have the major responsibility. When Maja was unhappy and I tried to comfort her, it was nice to know that, no matter how much she cried, I could always hand her over to Erica if I couldn’t get her to calm down. And Erica would take care of things. And it was great to go off to work every morning, knowing I’d come home to a big welcome from Maja in the evening.’

  ‘And in the meantime you got your dose of the adult world,’ said Karin drily. ‘So how are things now that you do have the major responsibility? Everything okay?’

  Patrik thought for a moment and then had to shake his head. ‘Well, I haven’t exactly received top marks as a stay-at-home dad. But it’s not easy. Erica works at home, you see, and she knows where everything is and . . .’ He shook his head again.

  ‘That sounds so familiar. Every time Leif comes home, he stands there shouting: “Karin! Where are the nappies?!” Sometimes I wonder how you men manage to do your jobs at all, since at home you can’t remember where anything’s kept.’

  ‘Oh, come on now,’ said Patrik, giving Karin a poke in the side. ‘We’re not that helpless. Give us a little credit, okay? Only a generation ago men would never have changed their kids’ nappies, and we’ve come a long way since then. But you can’t make these kinds of transformations overnight. Our fathers were our role models, they’re the ones who influenced us, and it takes time to adapt. But we’re doing the best we can.’

  ‘Maybe you are,’ said Karin, and again she sounded bitter. ‘That’s definitely not the case with Leif.’

  Patrik didn’t reply. There was really nothing to say. And when they parted in Sälvik at the intersection near Norderviken Sailing Club, he felt both sad and pensive. For a long time he’d harboured bad feelings towards Karin because of the way she’d betrayed him. Now he just felt enormously sorry for her.

  The phone call to the station had them jumping into a police car immediately. Mellberg, as usual, had muttered some excuse and hurried to his office, but Martin, Paula, and Gösta had raced off to Tanumshede secondary school. On arrival, they’d been directed to the principal’s office and since this wasn’t their first trip to the school, Martin had no trouble finding the way.

  ‘What’s happened here?’ He glanced around the room; a surly-looking teenager sat on a chair, flanked by the principal and two men, whom Martin guessed were teachers.

  ‘Per beat up one of our students,’ said the principal grimly as he sat down behind his desk. ‘I’m glad you got here so fast.’

  ‘How is the student doing?’ asked Paula.

  ‘It doesn’t look good. The school nurse is with him, and an ambulance is on the way. I’ve phoned Per’s mother. She should be here soon.’ The principal glared at the boy, who responded with an indifferent yawn.

  ‘You’ll have to come down to the police station with us,’ said Martin, signalling for Per to stand up. He turned to the principal. ‘See if you can reach his mother before she gets here, otherwise you’ll just have to ask her to meet us at the station. My colleague, Paula Morales, will stay here and interview any witnesses to the attack.’

  ‘I’ll get started right away,’ Paula said, making for the door.

  Per was still sporting the same indifferent expression as he sauntered down the corridor with the police officers. A large crowd of curious students had gathered, and Per reacted to the attention by grinning and giving them the finger.

  ‘Fucking idiots,’ he muttered.

  Gösta gave him a sharp look. ‘Keep your mouth shut until we get to the station.’

  Per shrugged but obeyed. As they drove back to the squat building that housed both the police and the fire brigade, he sat staring out of the window in silence.

  When they reached the station, they put the boy in an interview room and waited for his mother to arrive. Martin’s mobile rang. He listened with interest and then turned to Gösta, a pensive look on his face.

  ‘That was Paula,’ he said. ‘Do you know who Per beat up?’

  ‘No, is it somebody we know?’

  ‘You bet. Mattias Larsson, one of the boys who found Erik Frankel. They’re taking him to the hospital now. So we’ll need to interview him later on.’

  Gösta received this information without comment, but Martin saw that his face had turned pale.

  Ten minutes later Carina c
ame running through the front door into the reception area, out of breath and asking for her son. Annika calmly brought her to Martin’s office.

  ‘Where’s Per? What has he done?’ She was fighting back the tears and sounded on the verge of hysteria. Martin shook hands with her as he introduced himself. Formalities and familiar routines often had a calming effect. As they did now. Carina repeated her questions, but in a more subdued tone of voice, and then she sat down on the chair that Martin offered her. He grimaced as he sat down at his desk, recognizing a familiar smell emanating from the woman across from him. Stale booze. Maybe she’d been to a party the day before. But he didn’t think so. Her slightly bloated features were one of the tell-tale signs of alcoholism.

  ‘According to the report from the school, Per assaulted a fellow pupil.’

  ‘Oh, dear God,’ she said, gripping the armrests of her chair. ‘How . . .? The boy, is he . . .’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘He’s being taken to the hospital. Apparently he was severely beaten.’

  ‘But why?’ She swallowed hard, shaking her head.

  ‘That’s what we aim to find out. We have Per in one of the interview rooms here, and we need your permission to ask him some questions.’

  Carina nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’ She swallowed hard again.

  ‘All right then. Let’s go and have a talk with Per.’ Martin led the way. He paused in the corridor to knock on the door jamb of Gösta’s office. ‘Come with us. We’re going to have a talk with the boy.’

  Carina and Gösta shook hands, and then all three of them went into the room where Per was waiting, trying to look as if the whole business bored him. But he lost his composure the minute he saw his mother come in. Not entirely, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his eye. A trembling in his hands. Then he forced himself to resume the indifferent expression and turned his gaze towards the wall.