services. Now that I’ve got my foot in the door…’ Vilgot’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. He licked his lips. ‘It’s going to be a successful business that you take over one day, Frans.’ He reached out to place his hand on his son’s leg. ‘The day will come when you can tell everybody in Fjallbacka to take a flying leap. After the Germans take power, we’ll be in charge. Then we’ll have more money than those idiots could ever dream of. So have a drink with your father, and let’s toast the bright future!’ Vilgot raised his glass and clinked it against Frans’s, which he’d again filled to the brim.
The feeling of well-being continued to spread through Frans’s chest as he drank another toast with his father.
Chapter 17
Gosta had just started a round of golf on his computer when he heard Mellberg’s footsteps in the corridor. He quickly turned off the game and picked up a report, trying to look as though he was deeply immersed in reading it. Mellberg’s steps came closer, but there was something different about them. And what was that strange grumbling sound? Gosta rolled back his desk chair so he could stick his head out into the hall. The first thing he saw was Ernst, padding along in front of Mellberg with his long tongue hanging out, as usual. Behind him came an oddly hunched figure who was laboriously shuffling forward. He looked a lot like Mellberg, and yet he didn’t.
‘What the hell are you staring at?’
The voice and tone definitely belonged to his boss.
‘What happened to you?’ asked Gosta. By now Annika was peering out from the kitchen where she was busy feeding Maja.
Mellberg muttered something inaudible.
‘What?’ said Annika. ‘What did you say? I missed it.’
Mellberg glowered at her and then said, ‘I’ve been taking salsa lessons. Anything wrong with that?’
Gosta and Annika looked at each other in astonishment. Then they struggled to keep a straight face.
‘Well?’ shouted Mellberg. ‘Any funny remarks? Anyone? Because there’s plenty of opportunity to cut salaries here at the station.’ Then he slammed the door to his office.
For several seconds Annika and Gosta stared at the closed door, but then they could restrain themselves no longer. The pair of them laughed until they cried, but they did it as quietly as possible.
Having checked that Mellberg’s door was still closed, Gosta slipped over to the kitchen and whispered to Annika: ‘Did he say he’d been taking salsa lessons? Did he really say that?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Annika, wiping the tears on the sleeve of her sweater. Maja stared at them in fascination as she sat at the table with a plate in front of her.
‘But why? What on earth’s got into him?’ said Gosta incredulously as he pictured the scene in his mind.
‘Well, it’s the first I’ve heard about it, at any rate.’ Still laughing, Annika shook her head and then sat down to carry on feeding Maja.
‘Did you see how stiff he was? He looked like that creature in
‘Salsa! That must have given Mellberg’s body a real shock. He hasn’t done any exercise in… well, ever. It’s a mystery to me how he ever passed the physical part of the police training.’
‘For all we know, he might have been a great athlete in his younger days.’ Annika thought about what she’d just said and then shook her head. ‘But I don’t think so. Good Lord, this is the entertainment highlight of the day. Mellberg at a salsa class! Whatever next?’ She lifted a spoonful of food to Maja’s mouth, but the child stubbornly turned her head away. ‘This little one doesn’t want to eat anything. But if I don’t get her to take at least a few spoonfuls, they’ll never trust me with her again,’ she sighed and made another attempt, but Maja’s mouth remained as impenetrable as Fort Knox.
‘Shall I try?’ asked Gosta, reaching for the spoon. Annika looked at him in surprise.
‘You? Okay, go ahead. But don’t get your hopes up.’ Gosta didn’t reply as he changed places with Annika, sitting down next to Maja. He dumped off half of the huge mound of food that Annika had put on the spoon and then raised it in the air. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane.’ He sailed the spoon around like a plane and was rewarded with Maja’s undivided attention. ‘Vroom, vroom, vroom, here comes the airplane, flying straight into your…’ Maja’s mouth opened as if on cue, and the plane with its load of spaghetti and meat sauce went in for a landing.
‘Mmm… that was good,’ said Gosta, putting a little more food on the spoon. ‘Chugga, chugga, chug, now it’s a train coming. Chugga, chugga, chug and straight into the tunnel.’ Maja’s mouth opened again and the spaghetti entered the tunnel.
‘I can’t believe it!’ said Annika, gaping. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ said Gosta modestly. But he smiled proudly as a race car drove in with spoon number three.
Annika sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Gosta slowly emptied the plate in front of Maja, who swallowed every bite.
‘You know what, Gosta?’ said Annika. ‘Life is so unfair sometimes.’
‘Have the two of you thought about adopting?’ asked Gosta without looking at her. ‘In my day it wasn’t very common. But today I wouldn’t hesitate. Seems like every other kid is adopted.’
‘We’ve talked about it,’ said Annika, drawing circles on the tablecloth with the tip of her finger. ‘But nothing has ever come of it. We’ve done our best to fill our lives with things other than children… but…’
‘It’s not too late,’ said Gosta. ‘If you start now, it might not take too long. And the colour of the child’s skin doesn’t matter, so choose the country with the shortest waiting list. There are so many kids who need a home. If I was a child, I’d thank my lucky stars if you and Lennart adopted me.’
Annika swallowed hard and looked down at her finger moving over the tablecloth. Gosta’s words had awakened something inside of her, something that she and Lennart had somehow suppressed the past few years. Maybe they were afraid. After all the miscarriages, all the hopes that had been shattered again and again. But maybe they were strong enough now. Maybe they could do it, maybe they dared. Because the sense of longing was still there, as strong as ever. Nothing seemed to suppress that longing to hold a child in their arms, to have a child to love.
‘Well, I’d better see about doing some work,’ said Gosta, getting to his feet without looking at her. He patted Maja on the head. ‘At least she ate something, so Patrik won’t have to worry that she’s starving when he leaves her here with us next time.’
He was just about to leave the kitchen when Annika said quietly, ‘Thanks, Gosta.’
He nodded, embarrassed. Then he disappeared into his office and closed the door behind him. He sat down in front of his computer, staring at the screen without seeing it. Instead he saw Maj-Britt’s face. And the boy who had lived only a few days. So many years had passed since then. An eternity. Almost an entire lifetime. But he could still feel the tiny hand grasping his finger.
With a sigh, Gosta clicked open the golf game.
For three hours Erica managed to push aside all thoughts of the disastrous visit with Britta. And during that time she wrote five pages of her new book. Then her mind returned to Britta, and she gave up trying to write anything more.
She’d felt deeply ashamed when she left Britta’s home. It was hard for her to shake off the memory of Herman’s expression when he saw her sitting there at the kitchen table next to his wife, who was in a state of collapse. Erica understood his reaction. It had been terribly insensitive of her not to recognize the signals. But at the same time, she didn’t really regret visiting Britta. Slowly she was starting to gather more pieces of the puzzle. They were diffuse and vague, but they were beginning to form a picture of her mother that was more complete than the one she’d had before.
It was odd that she’d never even heard the names Erik, Britta, or Frans. At one time in her mother’s life they
