Authors: Hans Koppel
Erik fell silently to a certain death. The wind and the sea paid no heed and continued unchanging, with the same force. A tumult arrived with the police. First Karlsson and Gerda made a dramatic entrance with guns drawn. They shouted out questions and Trude answered as best she could. Anna sat on the ground, holding Hedda close. They were tightly wrapped in a human ball, isolated from their surroundings and impossible to reach.
Within the next quarter of an hour, several cars turned up with blaring sirens and flashing blue lights, despite orders to the contrary. The place was crawling with apparently disorganised police officers who ordered each other loudly to do various things. Torches danced in the dark. Some officers lay down on their stomachs and looked over the edge, searching for the body, but it was impossible see it amid all the white foam.
The sudden drama had woken the local youths with wheels to life and they formed a procession up to the cliffs. A young policeman who was so fresh that his uniform still smelt of naphthalene made sure that no one passed the blue and white plastic cordon that had been tied across the road between two trees. The curious onlookers had no choice but to document what was going on with their mobile phones from the parking place, as if they were at a gig.
Trude told them what she had seen. That Erik had been standing right out on the edge of the cliff with the girl, but then suddenly let her go and threw himself off. Karlsson and Gerda wandered to and fro, circling around Anna and Hedda, who were still sitting on the ground leaning against Trude’s car. The policemen assured them that there was no rush, they would talk to Anna when she was ready.
Karlsson hunkered down.
‘We’ve seized his computer,’ he whispered. ‘Just so you know.’
‘My husband,’ Anna said. ‘I want to call my husband.’
Karlsson patted her on the shoulder and stood up.
‘His computer?’ Hedda said, and looked at her mother.
‘It’s nothing, sweetheart,’ Anna answered, and pulled her close again.
A helicopter arrived just as they were being driven away, hovering over the cliffs with a searchlight and a rescue swimmer at the ready to fish out Erik’s body. Trude had to leave her car there for investigation purposes and was given a lift home by a more-than-willing officer. The local youths snapped pictures like experienced paparazzi as the police car left the parking place.
Karlsson and Gerda drove Anna and Hedda to the hospital in Helsingborg, where Magnus was waiting. The police didn’t need to speak to Hedda and Anna about this right now, the most important thing was that they all got some rest. They would, however, appreciate a few words with Magnus.
He followed them into an empty reception room.
‘We’ve found Anna’s mother,’ Karlsson told him. ‘But sadly, not alive.’
‘Right,’ Magnus said.
The policemen looked at each other.
‘Do you understand what we’re saying?’ Karlsson asked.
Magnus nodded.
‘We don’t know the exact chain of events, but we know that Kathrine went to see Erik Månsson and that something went wrong.’
‘I understand,’ Magnus said, but his voice indicated the opposite.
‘She’s dead,’ Karlsson stated.
Magnus nodded with dogged determination, repeated what they’d said and looked at Karlsson and Gerda. He started to blink and his face crumpled. Karlsson put his arms round him.
‘Come here,’ he said, and stroked Magnus comfortingly on the back.
They stood like that for about a minute before Magnus pushed Karlsson away. He smiled sheepishly, sniffed and cleared his throat.
‘We haven’t told Anna yet,’ Gerda said. ‘Perhaps we should wait?’
‘What? Yes. No. I don’t know. Is she here in the hospital?’ Magnus stuttered. ‘Kathrine, I mean. Is she here? Should I identify her?’
‘Not just now.’
Magnus nodded.
‘Do you want us to talk to Anna?’ Karlsson asked. ‘We’ve asked for a professional crisis management team. They’ll be here shortly.’
Magnus pointed over his shoulder.
‘My family, I thought that I, we… I think I want, that we, I want to be with them.’
They went back. Anna and Hedda were sitting huddled together on the edge of a bed. Magnus went over and sat down on the other side of his daughter.
Anna looked at Karlsson and Gerda, who stood in the doorway.
‘You’ve found her,’ she said.
The crisis management team were no doubt skilled and well suited for their work, but Anna was not responsive. She didn’t want sympathy, didn’t want to open her heart to strangers, didn’t want to give attention to anyone other than her husband and daughter, and wouldn’t let outsiders intrude on their togetherness, albeit out of concern or kindness. In a few days, perhaps. Now, no.
The counsellors who had been called in knew when to back off. They left their contact details with Magnus and assured him that they were ready to come at any time of day or night. The period ahead would be intense, with sudden mood swings between emotional extremes, they explained, and asked whether he and Anna would like something to help them sleep.
Magnus promised to get in touch, and then guided his family out to the car. Anna and Hedda sat in the back. Magnus caught his wife’s eye in the rear-view mirror and she put her hand on his shoulder. He lifted his hand and covered her fingers.
There was no traffic and they slipped through the north of the town without any trouble, down towards the water and on to the suburban house that had been their family home for so many years it felt like eternity.
The residential streets were silent and empty. The damp air formed white halos round the streetlights and the cars in the driveways were speckled with dew. They got out of the car, calmed by all that was familiar and safe. Magnus walked in front, unlocked and held open the door. They switched on the lights, and each sank down on to one of the kitchen chairs.
‘Little Mummy,’ Anna said, and fought her tears in vain.
Hedda and Magnus put their arms round her from either side.
‘My fault,’ she cried. ‘Mine.’
Magnus stroked her hair.
‘No,’ he comforted. ‘Not at all.’
Anna sobbed.
‘I want to be like her. Brave and kind.’
‘You are like her,’ Hedda said. ‘You and Granny are the same, you always have been.’
Anna pushed them both gently back and stood up. Her breathing was jagged, she shook her head and went over to the sink, tore off some kitchen roll. Hedda put out her hand and was given a piece, as was Magnus. They dried their cheeks and blew their noses.
Anna looked at her daughter.
‘Sleep in our bed,’ she said.
Anna held Hedda tight.
‘Mummy…’
‘What?’
‘I can’t breathe.’
‘Sorry, darling.’
She eased her hold.
‘Better?’
‘Mm.’
They lay in silence, breathing in sync. After a while, Hedda fell asleep.
Anna just lay there with her arms around her, relishing the closeness. She heard Magnus going round turning off the lights and checking that the doors were locked.
Anna slowly let go of Hedda and was mindful when she left the bed. She stopped in the doorway to check on her daughter. She had to fight back the tears. Magnus came up behind her and put his arm round her shoulders. They stood and looked in silence at the result of their love.
Anna turned and they kissed each other gently. A kiss that was not broken off, a kiss that allowed space and growth. Closely entwined and with increasing fervour, they started to undress each other. They tumbled against the wall in the hallway, bumped against the doorframe as they struggled towards the empty bed in Hedda’s room. When Anna came, she had to press her face into the pillow in order not to wake their daughter in the next room.
Afterwards they lay staring up at the ceiling, their muscles emptied of strength and shiny with sweat. Magnus was out of breath and his throat was dry, he found it hard to swallow.
Anna squeezed his hand, her nails digging in, and cried silently.
He pulled her to him, for once being allowed to be the strong and secure one. He dried her cheeks and kissed her eyelids.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I’m not very good at saying it, I don’t dare. I’m scared that you’ll realise how much and back off. Every day when I come home, it’s as if all the stress and tension just evaporates.’
Anna rolled on to her side and stared out of the window. She held her balled fists to her face. He lay tight behind her, ran his fingertips over the contours of her arm.
‘I need something to drink. Do you want anything?’
‘That’d be good.’
Magnus got out of the bed and went to the kitchen. Anna heard him filling two glasses.
Her mother had been right all the time. She did make her husband very happy.