‘Yes?’
He shook his head firmly. ‘Nope,’ he said.
Hans returned from the kitchen with hot chocolate for us all. Cecilie pushed one cup over to Jan, who grabbed it instantly and put it to his mouth.
‘Careful!’ she said. ‘It’s hot.’
He took a big swig, didn’t react, but a shiver ran through him, and he put down the cup straightaway.
‘But you remember your mum coming home?’ I continued. ‘That’s what you told me yesterday.’
His face seemed to close again. ‘Nope,’ he repeated, looking down.
Cecilie sent me an admonitory glance.
‘Well, so… let’s not talk about that any more,’ I said lightly. ‘Is the chocolate good? For famished boys?’
He squinted up. There was a wary appraisement in his eyes that had not been there before. Then it was gone, and he nodded in silence, raised the cup to his mouth and took another swig, more cautious this time and still without saying anything.
‘Well…’ I motioned to Hans and we went into the vestibule, leaving Cecilie with Jan.
‘I heard Langeland, the solicitor, had rung you.’
‘Yes, he… we were at university together. Moderate rebels, both of us,’ he said with a tiny grin.
‘He told you everything?’
‘Yes, I was given the whole story. But I had no idea that Vibecke and Svein were his foster parents. Her name was Storset when I knew them.’
‘Yes, you must have been fellow students, too?’
‘Yes. She and Jens were, I suppose, almost… an item for a while.’
‘They were a couple?’
‘Yes, but not for long. And later we lost contact, all of us.’
‘Not her and Langeland though. He’s their family solicitor, as I’m sure he said.’
‘Indeed, so I understand.’
‘But you didn’t have any contact, I gather?’
‘Not with Vibecke and Svein. Jens and I met up on the odd evening over a beer or two, but nothing more than that. As time went on we developed… in different
directions. He became a law-abiding citizen, I…’
‘Became an outlaw?’
He grinned. ‘No, no. But you know how it is, Varg. You, me and the law are not always on the same wavelength, are we.’
‘No, you may be right there. Did he say any more about… Vibecke?’
‘No, he didn’t. He was most concerned with Jan. And his state of mind.’
‘Good. What do you think? He’s thawed a bit now, hasn’t he.’
‘You’ve done a great job, Varg. But I still think we should consider hospitalisation.’
‘Let’s give him one more night, eh?’
‘OK. I’ll go with that.’
We went back to Cecilie and Jan. ‘Must be bedtime soon, right?’ I said. ‘Are there any exciting books up there?’
Cecilie nodded. ‘The one we started yesterday was nice, anyway. About Winnie the Pooh.’
‘I’ll come up with you.’
On the stairs I said to her: ‘Shall I take this shift?’
‘Would you like to?’
‘One of us definitely ought to be here, and since you did last night then…’
She nodded. ‘It would be nice to go home and change clothes anyway.’
She still helped Jan put on his pyjamas, wash and clean his teeth, though. When finally he was in bed, she sat on the chair beside him and asked: ‘Should Varg read perhaps?’
He looked at me.
‘I’m wolf-keen to read,’ I said.
He lowered his head stiffly, and Cecilie and I exchanged places.
‘Here,’ she said, and I began to read. ‘“The Piglet lived in a very grand house in the middle of a beech tree, and the beech tree was in the middle of the forest, and the Piglet lived in the middle of the house. Next to his house was a piece of broken board which had ‘TRESPASSERS W’ on it. When Christopher Robin asked the Piglet what it meant, he said it was his grandfather’s name, and had been in the family for a long time.”’
Cecilie sat on the other chair and stayed there until Jan’s eyes had begun to flicker. When he seemed to be falling asleep, we motioned to each other and crept into the corridor.
We were standing at the top of the stairs. In the distance other noises came from the house: the television set on the ground floor, the hissing in the pipes and excited falsetto voices from one of the other rooms.
She said: ‘In a way, this has been a nice day.’
I nodded and smiled.
She came over to me, put her arms around my neck and gave me a hug. I could feel her warm, light body against mine as the door behind us banged open. Like lovers with a bad conscience we jumped apart and turned around.
Jan had opened the door and now he was coming towards us with his head down, not looking ahead. ‘Don’t!’ he shouted before hitting me in the stomach like a battering ram. For a second or two I stood swaying. Then I lost my balance and fell backwards down the steep stairs.
14
So Cecilie had to spend the night there after all. I was driven to A amp; E by Hans who had only just managed to squeeze himself in behind the wheel of the Mini. There, they confirmed a bad strain and a pulled muscle in my right arm, but as the on-duty doctor laconically added: ‘If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the railing, things could have been a lot worse for you.’
‘What the hell was that all about?’ Hans had asked me on the way there.
‘Don’t ask me! But it’s given me something to mull over…’
Again and again I went back over the absurd moment when I lost my footing and lurched down the stairs. I struck out blindly with my right arm, grabbed hold of the railing, lost my grip, got hold of another support, gripped and held on so tightly that I broke my fall but pulled a muscle in my arm, which felt as if it had come out of the socket and would never settle back.
For a second or two I seemed to have passed out. Then I heard Cecilie from above: ‘Varg! Are you alright?’ — and Hans come charging out of the vestibule office: ‘What the hell’s going on?’
I turned over and crawled up into a kneeling position before slowly getting to my feet. I looked up the stairs. There were Cecilie and Jan standing together. She was holding his arms tight while both stared down at me as if they had seen a ghost.
I met Jan’s gaze. It was black with fury.
‘But, Johnny, I thought we were friends.’
‘I hate you! I hate you!’ he screamed, his face bright red.
‘Now, now… Don’t say that,’ Cecilie said in a consoling tone of voice, but who she was consoling I was not at all sure. ‘Come on…’
She led Jan back into the bedroom while Hans supported me out of the building and to my car. When A amp; E were finished with me, he said: ‘I can drive you home, Varg. I don’t live that far away.’
‘Well, I’m not going to say no. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to change gear at this moment.’
That night I slept even worse. I lay brooding until the early hours, and when I did finally fall asleep I was drawn into a nightmarish dream where once again I mixed up Jan with Thomas, and on waking I was confused as to which of them kept pushing me down the steep stairs again and again. And the matter was not made any better by Beate replacing Cecilie at the top of the staircase, with a gloating expression on her face: What did I say? Even
