“You can get on and off the bus wherever you want,” the little lady said, smiling a sunny toothless smile.
Irene sat on the open top deck of the bus and buttoned her jacket tightly around her neck since the wind off the water was cold.
IT WAS five thirty when she dragged herself through the door of the hotel room. Her head was spinning and her feet ached. She was completely exhausted. She threw shopping bags on the bed and went into the bathroom, turned on the faucet in the tub, and started filling it with hot water. A bath was her primary need-right after caffeine, that is. Thankfully, she noted that the hotel provided a small water heater in each room. Next to the white ceramic cups, there was a bowl with tea bags, instant coffee in single servings, and sugar. Irene filled the flask with water, plugged it in, and poured the bowl’s three packages of coffee into a cup.
She had gotten off at Oxford Street on the way home, just outside Selfridge’s department store. A quick sweep of the floors had revealed that the prices were too high for her. To her glee she saw an H amp;M store a bit farther down the street, and there she found a nice light green sweater and a black top decorated with glitter. Attractive and cheap, since the sweater was on sale for half price. Irene was very pleased with her finds, but slightly embarrassed at the same time. To travel to London only to shop at H amp;M was really like crossing a pond to get water from the far side. If someone were to ask her where she had bought the sweater or the top, she decided to just answer, “In London.”
She took the steaming cup with her into the bathroom and set it on the edge of the tub. It was heavenly to sink into the warm water and take a few sips of the venomously strong coffee. The caffeine rushed around her body and chased away her fatigue, at the same time as the heat from the bathwater increased her circulation. Her whole body started to feel pleasantly relaxed.
DARK CLOUDS gathered on the horizon and quickly closed in on the sandy beach. What had seemed warm and pleasant a little while ago, suddenly became cold and threatening. Irene was freezing but didn’t know what she should do to get the temperature to rise. Her arms and legs were frozen stiff and refused to follow orders. Fear gripped her with its claws and she realized that she was paralyzed and freezing to death. The icy rain and cold were relentless; the tide would soon sweep her out into the sea. On top of all this suffering, thunder started roaring.
Irene sat up in the cold bath water with a jerk. The roar of thunder could still be heard. It took a moment before she realized that someone was knocking at the door. Shaking from cold, she stood and grabbed a big white bath towel. Shivering, she fumbled it around herself as she went to open the door. Estelle was standing outside.
Her hair was just as impeccably arranged as it had been that morning. She was dressed in a striking figure- fitting bone-white dress with matching shoes. Over one shoulder she had thrown a jacket. She smiled. “Hi. Are you almost ready?”
“No. . I fell asleep in the bath.”
“You poor thing. You flew in early this morning, and you’ve been busy all day. It’s not surprising that you fell asleep. It’s just a quarter past. I’ll call and say that we’ll be a little late.”
She walked quickly away over the corridor’s soft carpet without tripping or wobbling on her high heels. Some women know the art of walking in heels, others don’t, Irene observed. Irene was definitely in the latter category.
In a flash, she showered in scorching hot water to get her circulation going. She didn’t have time to wash her hair, but there was just enough to blow it dry with the hair dryer. She dived into the light-purple top and her blue linen suit. Two quick swipes with mascara over her eyelashes and a pass with the newly purchased lipstick, and she was ready to float down to Estelle, who had said she would wait in the foyer. At the last second, Irene had remembered jewelry, a present from Krister on her fortieth birthday. With quick movements of her hands, she exchanged the small silver balls in her ears for larger gold ones. Around her neck she hung the long chain with a beautiful oval golden pendant. Krister’s cousin Anna, a goldsmith in Karlstad, had made them. They were the most expensive pieces Irene had ever owned, and she loved them. One glance in the mirror confirmed that she looked good enough for a London restaurant.
“YOU MANAGED it in twelve minutes. I’m impressed,” said Estelle.
They walked barely a hundred meters down the street from the hotel. Vitoria was located in a large brick house. They could hear South American rhythms out on the street, and a carnival atmosphere ruled inside. Some thirty people of all ages sat around a long table. Everyone sang along with the music and raised their glasses in toasts. Irene almost had to scream in order to be heard.
“Are you celebrating something?”
“Didn’t Glen tell you?” Estelle asked, surprised.
“No. What?”
“Mamma is turning sixty-five.”
“But then I shouldn’t be-”
In her confusion Irene couldn’t come up with the phrase for “butting in.” Estelle said, “You aren’t. It was Mamma’s idea that Glen should invite you. She didn’t want you to be all alone in the big city. Mamma loves to have people around her.”
A plump woman in a fire-red dress came toward them with a big smile and wide-open arms. “Welcome! Now the party can really start, because everyone is here! A special welcome to Irene! My name is Donna!”
In the next moment Irene found her nose in a food-and-perfume-scented wave of gray hair, her arms locked at her sides in the woman’s powerful embrace.
Donna gently pushed her back and looked up at her face. “If all police officers in Sweden are as tall as you, then I want you to send a male example, the right age for me. I love tall men!”
She smiled a glittering golden smile; for a split second, Superintendent Andersson’s pale, flabby face floated by in Irene’s mind. He could use someone soon to liven up his life as a retiree. Maybe she should send him here to Donna? He was about the right age, but a bit lacking in height. This vibrant woman would run him ragged in a few weeks; Irene was already feeling a bit exhausted herself.
Glen waved and hollered, pointing at two empty chairs on the other side of the table across from where he was sitting. Estelle made her way there with Irene in her wake.
“Hi, Irene! May I introduce my wife Kate and the twins, Brian and. . where is Kevin?”
Glen got up and shouted at a group of children. While Glen was trying to find his progeny, Irene met Kate. She was beautiful, with thick reddish-blond hair, big blue eyes, and a very pale freckled complexion. The dark, curly-haired boy at her side was joined by an identical copy whom Glen had managed to fish out of the pack of kids.
“I also have twins. But they are girls and they just turned eighteen. And they aren’t-”
Irene stopped, again at a loss for a word. What were these twins called in English?
“Identical twins,” Kate proffered.
A waiter came and served drinks from a tray. The dark sweet liquid that burned Irene’s stomach was probably rum, but she wasn’t completely sure. After a while, food was brought to the table. They ate shrimp and mussels with a spicy sauce into which you dipped wonderful newly baked bread. Then skewers of chicken and vegetables were served. The sauce that went with this course had a strong taste of chili. That’s probably why the good red wine disappeared so quickly. As the levels in the glasses sank, the mood around the table soared. To her horror, Irene realized that there was more food coming when large, aromatic steaks were brought in. She was already stuffed. The meat was served with a red wine sauce and roasted potatoes.
“This meat is from South America, not England. No mad cow disease!” Donna trumpeted from the head of the table.
It tasted wonderful, but two more glasses of wine were needed to wash down all the food. Irene started feeling the effects of the wine. She told herself to take it easy. It wouldn’t do to be hung over during tomorrow’s questioning of Rebecka Schyttelius.
The warm mood-and the actual warmth-in the small restaurant increased. The guests cheered and sang for the birthday girl; since Irene didn’t know Portuguese, she had to hum along as best she could.
A magnificent fruitcake was served for dessert, with coffee. Irene declined an after-dinner drink
