The Girl in the Woods. Camilla Lackberg

The Girl in the Woods - Camilla Lackberg


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now she was lying to herself. Until that day, life had been easy, they had still been a family. She couldn’t recall any problems or setbacks. Nothing but bright summer days and the scent of her mother’s perfume when she tucked her in at night. And love. She remembered the love.

      She picked up speed in order to drown out her thoughts. All those thoughts that running usually erased. Why were they appearing in her mind now? Was she going to have to give up even this temporary reprieve? Had Marie’s return ruined everything?

      With each breath, Helen noticed how different everything felt. Her lungs were straining, and in the end she had to stop. Her legs felt so tight, and her body was weak from lactic acid. For the first time her body had defeated her will.

      Helen didn’t notice she was falling until she landed on the ground.

      Bill looked around the restaurant in the TanumStrand hotel and conference centre. Only five people had turned up. He saw five weary faces. He knew they had been out searching for little Nea all night. He and Gun had talked about it on their way over, wondering whether they should postpone the meeting. But Bill was convinced this was exactly what was needed at the moment.

      Yet it had never occurred to him that only five people would come.

      Rolf had arranged for Thermoses of coffee and rolls with cheese and paprika to be set on a side table, and Bill had already helped himself. He took a sip of coffee. Gun sat on a chair next to him, sipping her coffee as well.

      Bill looked from the exhausted faces to Rolf, who was standing at the entrance to the restaurant.

      ‘Maybe you’d like to introduce everyone?’ he asked.

      Rolf nodded.

      ‘This is Karim. He came here with his wife and two children. He worked as a journalist in Damascus. Then we have Adnan and Khalil, sixteen and eighteen, respectively. They came to Sweden alone and have become friends at the refugee centre. And this is Ibrahim, the oldest of the group.’ Rolf switched to English. ‘How old are you, Ibrahim?’

      The man next to Rolf had a big beard. Smiling, he held up five fingers.

      ‘Fifty.’

      ‘That’s right. Ibrahim is fifty, and he arrived here with his wife. Finally, we have Farid. He came to Sweden with his mother.’

      Bill nodded to the man with the shaved head and the huge body. He looked to be in his thirties and, judging by his girth, he spent a large part of his time eating. Bill thought it might be tricky to get the weight distribution right in a sailboat with someone who weighed at least three times as much as the others, but they’d find a way. He needed to stay positive. If he hadn’t stayed positive he never would have survived that time when his boat capsized off the coast of South Africa and the great white sharks began circling.

      ‘And my name is Bill,’ he said, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘I’m going to speak Swedish with you as much as possible.’

      He and Rolf had agreed that would be best. The whole point was for the refugees to learn the language so they could more rapidly become part of society.

      Everyone except Farid had a puzzled expression. He replied in broken but understandable Swedish:

      ‘I am the only one who understands Swedish okay. I have been here the longest and I have studied hard, very hard. I can maybe help to translate in the beginning. So the boys will understand?’

      Bill nodded. That seemed sensible. All the new words and specialized sailing terms would be challenging even for a native Swede. Farid switched to Arabic and quickly explained what Bill had said. The others nodded.

      ‘We try … understand … Swedish … and learn,’ said the man named Karim.

      ‘Great! Excellent!’ said Bill, giving them a thumbs up. ‘Do all of you know how to swim?’

      He made swimming motions with his arms, and Farid repeated his question in Arabic. The five men spoke among themselves, then Karim replied for all of them, again in laborious Swedish.

      ‘We can … that is why we take this course. Otherwise not.’

      ‘Where did you learn to swim?’ asked Bill, both relieved and surprised. ‘Have you spent a lot of time on the coast?’

      Farid quickly translated. His words were greeted with laughter.

      ‘At the leisure centre,’ he said with a smile.

      ‘Oh, of course.’

      Bill felt stupid. He didn’t dare glance at Gun sitting next to him, but he could hear her trying not to snort. He probably needed to do some reading about Syria, so he wouldn’t seem like such an ignorant fool. He’d visited many parts of the world, but for him their country was only a blank patch on the map.

      He reached for another roll. It had a thick layer of butter, just the way he liked it.

      Karim raised his hand, and Bill gave him a nod.

      ‘When … when we begin?’

      Karim said something in Arabic, and Farid added: ‘When do we begin sailing?’

      Bill threw out his hands.

      ‘There’s no time to lose. The Dannholmen regatta takes place in only a few weeks, so we start tomorrow! Rolf will give you a lift to Fjällbacka, and we’ll begin at nine o’clock. Bring warm clothes with you. It’s colder out on the water than on shore when the wind is blowing.’

      When Farid had translated, the others looked a bit uneasy. But Bill gave them an encouraging look and what he hoped was a winning smile. This was going to be great, just great. No problems at all. It was all good.

      ‘Thanks for letting the kids hang out here for a while,’ said Erica as she sat down across from Anna on the partially finished deck.

      She had gratefully accepted the offer of iced tea. The heat was oppressive, and the AC wasn’t working properly in her car. She felt as if she’d been wandering in the desert for forty days. She reached for the glass Anna had filled from the carafe and downed the iced tea in one long swig. Anna laughed and refilled her glass. Now that Erica had quenched the worst of her thirst, she could drink the rest of her tea more slowly.

      ‘It was fine,’ said Anna. ‘The kids were so sweet I hardly even noticed them.’

      Erica grinned. ‘Are you sure you’re talking about my kids? Maja can be quite docile, but I wouldn’t call those two little rascals “sweet”.’

      Erica wasn’t kidding. When the twins were younger, they’d been very different from each other. Anton had been calmer and more introverted, while Noel was the one who always made a fuss and got into mischief. Now both of them had entered a period when they were filled with such an excess of energy that it was frequently too much for her. Maja had never gone through anything like that. She hadn’t even been particularly obstinate when she was a toddler, so Erica and Patrik had not been prepared for this. And it was double trouble, since they were twins. Erica would have loved to leave the children with Anna for the rest of the day, but her sister looked so tired that she couldn’t ask any more of her today.

      ‘So how did it go?’ Anna said, leaning back in her Baden Baden deckchair with the gaudy, sun-patterned cushion.

      Anna hated the sight of those cushions every time they sat outside on the deck, but Dan’s mother had made them, and she was such a nice person that Anna couldn’t bring herself to replace them. In that respect Erica was lucky. Patrik’s mother, Kristina, would never dream of sewing or doing any other type of handiwork.

      ‘It was pretty hopeless,’ said Erica gloomily. ‘Her father died so long ago, and she didn’t remember much. And she didn’t think he’d saved any of the investigative materials. But she did say something interesting. She told me Leif had started to doubt whether they actually did it.’

      ‘You mean he thought the girls weren’t guilty after all?’ said Anna, swatting away a horsefly.

      Erica


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