The Princess Trap (12 page)

Had Jonas realized what she was feeling? Maybe
that
was why he ran away to look for Perry. It hadn’t been shyness at all, as she’d so pathetically imagined. No, he’d realized the truth and raced off before the situation could become too embarrassing!

Jonas knew she was in love with him, and he found it so repulsive that he had to literally run in the opposite direction.

Oh God!

She would
never
be able to talk to him again. Was he still sitting with Ylva in the summerhouse at this very moment, laughing about her?

“
How could that little fattie possibly think I’d ever be into her?
” More laughter, more making out. How could she ever look Jonas in the eye again? And how could she possibly stand to be in the same room with Ylva now — it would be unbearable!

She could hear voices. She must have circled the whole estate. She’d left the wild meadows and was back at the vast, manicured lawns. There was the main house, and the stables, the parking lot, the outbuildings. The gate with its bell tower: the way out.

She couldn’t go back to school. She had to leave. There must be an escape route, even though the security guards were patroling everywhere in sight. The catering staff was rushing around, carrying trays of dirty dishes, collecting glasses from wherever they’d been left. There were still a few guests clustered in little groups near the base of the broad flight of steps, having one last conversation, promising to meet again soon, then wandering off together to the parking lot, where their chauffeurs were waiting for them.

Jenna left the shadows of the trees and wiped her tearstained face. Her hair had come loose from its ribbons, and strands now hung down over her shoulders. As she slipped her sandals back on, she felt the pain in the soles of her feet, but there was no time to worry about that now. A few steps in front of her, two champagne glasses sat in the grass; she leaned over and picked them up, then glanced warily around. It might work. After all, her mother had said she looked like a waitress. The dusk was thickening now, but she could still see various discarded objects lying on the grass: scrunched-up napkins, half-empty plates, an ornate fork. Jenna bent down, picked them up, and bent down again. When she had collected so much she could scarcely hold it all, she hurried toward the catering van.

A man in a black suit, his tie neatly knotted and his short, gelled hair as immaculate as if the party had just begun, looked irritably at her.

“Why didn’t you use a tray?” he snapped. “And do you realize how you look?”

Jenna lowered her eyes and didn’t answer. She put the glasses and plates in their separate racks, then grabbed a tray. Mom was right about the blue dress. And for such a big reception, the caterers would have had to take on extra staff — especially northerners, who were cheap to hire and hardworking. There was no way the man could remember every face.

But she mustn’t go too close to the remaining guests, in case one of them recognized her. There was still some light in the sky, even though the clouds were gathering. She crossed the lawn and bent down to pick up one last glass. That was it. Cautiously she made her way back, but she could see at a glance that nearly all the guests had gone and the parking lot was practically empty.

Behind the stables, tables and chairs were being loaded onto trucks, and the cartons of cookware were being sealed for the return journey. There were women and girls sitting in a minivan, packed together on the seats, with crates and boxes between their feet. Jenna went to the rear door, and a friendly hand gripped her arm and helped her up.

“Come in, child,” said the deep, smoky voice of an old woman. “There’s still room for you.”

All of them looked tired.

“Oh dear, what’s the matter? You’ve been crying! Has one of those spoiled —”

Jenna shook her head. The tears began to flow again. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing; maybe it would mean they’d leave her alone.

The woman shuffled along the seat. There wasn’t much room to spare. She put her arm around Jenna’s shoulders and drew her close. A strand of hair fell over Jenna’s eyes.

“Go on, honey, you have a good cry!” said the woman.

Jenna sobbed, and someone handed her a handkerchief that had been washed thin. The back door was slammed shut, and the minivan began to move.

“Let it all out, girl,” said the woman, and to her surprise Jenna found her kindness comforting. Perhaps the future wasn’t entirely bleak after all. As the van drove off the grounds and out onto the road, the women talked about the buffet and how amazing it was to see so much fine food and drink in a country hit by shortages.

But Jenna didn’t really listen. She leaned against the soft, motherly shoulder of the woman, and cried till she could cry no more.

T
oward midnight
the weather changed.

Lightning cut across the sky, thunder rumbled continuously, and rain fell from the dark clouds that had gathered earlier in the evening, so heavily that in less than a minute Jenna’s thin dress was soaked through.

She saw a bus shelter by the side of the road. Its Plexiglas walls were covered in ancient, ugly ads for a “new” brand of ice cream, and had graffiti scrawled all over them. The acrylic was scratched and chipped in places, but the roof was still intact, and it shielded her from the cloudburst.

In her wet dress, with her arms all goose-pimply, Jenna tried to huddle up on the narrow bench. She needed to rest, at least for a few minutes. Her head was swimming from tiredness, but she was too cold to sleep. Her teeth were chattering so loudly it was almost frightening.

She sat up again.

The van had dropped her and the rest of the waitstaff outside a modern building on the outskirts of a little town. The women had all hurried through the door to form a line at one of the counters inside.

Jenna had wanted to run off right there and then, but the woman who had been so kind to her throughout the journey had held her tightly by the shoulder.

“Hey, now,” she’d said. “How can anyone be so tired they forget to collect their pay?”

Jenna had not objected. She had joined the line, and each of the women had been given an envelope for which they’d had to sign. The man at the counter did not even check their names off a list — he must have been tired, too.

Can it really be this easy?
thought Jenna. Then she had the envelope in her hand, and the kind woman waved her goodbye and climbed onto a rickety old bicycle. “Are you OK now? Can you get home all right from here?” she’d called.

Jenna had nodded and waved back, then started to walk. She had soon reached the end of the buildings, where a road sign indicated that this was the border of the town. The town’s name meant nothing to Jenna — it was only a tiny place, and they had driven for so long that she realized she must be very far north. There were no stars in the sky, and the moon must have been hidden behind the clouds. She had walked, just to get away, far from the sight of any houses or passersby — wandering aimlessly through the night.

And then the thunderstorm had broken. It was lucky for her that she’d come across the bus shelter.

Jenna listened to her teeth chattering.
But it isn’t all bad, is it?
she reasoned with herself.
I got away, and now I even have some money.

The rattling on the roof gave way to a gentle patter.
I mustn’t catch cold. I’ve got to find somewhere to hide, where it’ll be dry and sheltered, and where I can stay for a while.

And then?
Jenna twined her arms around her body, trying to get warm.
Que será, será. But I’ll never go back. I can’t take any more.

The rain had stopped. The moon came out from behind a cloud and bathed the wet road in a cold, mysterious light.

I’m not afraid
, thought Jenna, getting up.
And I’ve got to keep moving, or I really will catch my death of cold in this wet dress. I’ll sleep later, as soon as it’s light and the sun has dried me out.

She felt more awake than before the downpour, and her teeth had stopped chattering. The farther she walked, the warmer she felt. She’d find out where she was heading eventually.

When the short night gave way to a yellowish dawn that promised yet another scorching day, Jenna finally saw a crossroads in the distance. And a signpost — at last!

She walked faster. The signpost had faded from years of sun and rain, and a hunter must have hit it with a stray bullet at some point, because there was a hole where there should have been paint. Even so, the name was clearly legible:

SAARSTAD

What an amazing coincidence! Was this fate?
thought Jenna, full of disbelief. Though perhaps it was not quite that amazing. After all, the von Thunberg estate was located in the north of South Island, almost on the sound that separated the two islands of Scandia. Now she knew exactly where she could go to hide.

She clutched the envelope with the money in it, and walked even faster.

They had not left the von Thunberg estate.

“How can I go back to Osterlin while Jenna’s still missing?” asked Margareta. There was an undertone in her voice that made it clear to everyone in the room she was on the verge of hysteria. “She’s got to be around here somewhere! She can’t just have disappeared! This place was so well guarded!”

“
Is
, Your Royal Highness, it still is!” von Thunberg said soothingly. “There’s no way your daughter can leave if she’s still here. Security is on its way with dogs and searchlights and night vision aids, so rest assured, we shall find the children.”

“It was that Pizza Princess business!” said Margareta, burying her face in her hands. “She was so ashamed. And then I had to go and talk to her like I did …”

“You think she’s run away?” asked Petterson, putting a hand on her shoulder. For a father whose son had also disappeared, he seemed remarkably calm. “But how could she have done that? Thunberg’s quite right, the security measures here couldn’t be better. I’m more inclined to think …”

“No!” said the princess. “No, Peter, no!”

“We need to face facts, Greta,” Petterson persisted. “It can’t be a coincidence that both Perry and Jenna have vanished at the same time.”

“But they could have run away together!” the princess said, almost pleading. “Peter! Why can’t you believe that?”

Petterson stroked her hair. “Two of them just slipping through the security net?” he asked gently. “Margareta, be honest with yourself. The rebels have always found ways and means. How can we know who’s infiltrated our security staff? True, we haven’t received any ransom demands yet, but …”

“No!” whispered the princess. She stood up, then paced to and fro. They were in one of the von Thunbergs’ reception rooms. The heavy brocade curtains had not been closed, so the glass of the windows reflected the ornate chandeliers. The parquet flooring, with its decorative inlays, was covered with oriental silk carpets that deadened the sound of her footsteps. “Not last year all over again! I couldn’t bear that, Peter! The fear! Not Jenna again! It’s been nonstop anxiety since the day she was born!”

Von Thunberg cleared his throat. “If I might just point something out, Your Royal Highness,” he said. “The security situation in our country is badly in need of improvement. It seems to me very unlikely that the rebels would dare to abduct a princess if they had to deal with military roadblocks at every turn. But of course …” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Now is not the time to promote your agenda, Thunberg!” said Petterson sharply. “Margareta, darling. My son has disappeared with her, and —”

At that moment the door swung open. “I came straight from the airport as soon as I got your news, Margareta,” said the king, standing in the doorway. “Well? Any updates?”

The princess shook her head. “Not Jenna again!” she repeated in a whisper.

Magnus crossed the room and took her in his arms. “There, there,” he said. “It’s too soon to tell. Jenna could be sitting somewhere, clueless to all our concerns, happy as a clam …”

Margareta pushed him away. “You believe that?” she cried. “After all you went through yourself last year? How can you be so blind, Magnus? And how can we just stand here wasting time? We’ve got to —”

Von Thunberg interrupted. “Your Majesty!” he said, with an impatient bow. “I can only agree with your sister. We should make a public announcement immediately, issue a missing persons alert for both children. It may not be much help now, in the middle of the night, but tomorrow morning when people get up and it’s the first thing they hear on the news, you’ll have the whole of Scandia searching for them.”

“The press already have photos,” added Petterson.

The king nodded. “Right,” he said. “An announcement.” He looked exhausted. Considering the recent series of events, the last few days had been made up of one long meeting after another. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” he said.

“Forgive me if I disagree, Your Majesty,” said von Thunberg. “Let me order my men to take over internal security. Within two hours they can set up roadblocks on all the major routes. Even during the night we can still conduct searches of every known or suspected rebel stronghold. This is a national crisis, Your Majesty!”

“The possibility that my niece has been kidnapped does not constitute a national crisis, von Thunberg,” said the king. He leaned against one of the window seats, almost too tired to stand. “Even if it feels like one to my sister and me. A personal tragedy for the royal family is no more important to the nation than the tragedy of any other family. It does not justify military intervention.” He looked out across the grounds, which were now in total darkness. “Even if at this moment I might wish that it did,” he added wearily.

“Magnus!” cried Margareta. With a few steps she was beside him. “Please, Magnus! It’s not just Jenna! Von Thunberg has been asking now for so long …”

“To be honest, Magnus, I think he’s right,” said Petterson. “Look at what happened at the airport this afternoon. The rebels are doing as they please right under our noses — they think they have nothing to fear! If you stay this stubborn, you’ll jeopardize all the progress you say you’re trying to foster in Scandia.”

The king looked at him. “If only I knew the right thing to do,” he murmured.

“Please, Magnus!” cried his sister. “Think of Jenna!”

“Think of our country, Your Majesty,” said von Thunberg.

“Think of the reforms,” said Petterson.

The king gave a weary nod. “All right, von Thunberg,” he said. “Do what’s necessary. And inform the press. But emphasize that it’s only a temporary measure. As soon as the situation calms down again, there’ll be no more soldiers on the streets of Scandia.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” said the princess.

Von Thunberg was already on his way out.

“I don’t think we should go back to Holmburg tonight,” said Petterson, glancing at the king. “You should get some sleep, Magnus. I fear there are difficult days ahead.”

The king nodded. “The last thing I wanted was to have to give orders like these again.”