make it your responsibility to see to it that the two of you can go on. The first thing you have to do is to arrange things so that you both get out of that house. Charlotte was already being driven crazy by Lilian, and I know that since Sara died it's only got worse. You two have to have your own home. A home where you can find your way back to each other again, where you can grieve for Sara in peace. There you can become a family.'
Niclas nodded. 'Yes, I know you're right. I should have taken care of that long ago, but I was so involved in my own troubles that I didn't see…'
He bent forward and stared hard at the tabletop. When he looked up his eyes were filled with tears. 'I miss her so much, Erica. I miss her so much that it feels like I'm falling apart. Sara is gone, Erica. It's only now that I understand it. Sara is gone.'
The tears ran down his cheeks and dripped onto the table. His whole body was shaking, and his face was contorted almost beyond recognition. Erica reached across the table and took his hand in hers. For a long time they sat together as he sobbed out his pain.
That weekend it happened again. A couple of weeks had passed since the last time, so Sebastian had begun to hope that it was all just a dream, or that it had ended once and for all. But then those moments returned. The moments of loathing, denial and pain.
If only he knew how to fight it. Whenever it happened he felt his lack of will paralyse his body, and he had to let himself float along.
Sebastian wrapped his arms around his knees as he sat at the top of Veddeberget. From this high up he could look out over the bay. It was cold and windy, but somehow beautiful. For once it felt the same outside as in. Although some rain would have made things even better. Because that was precisely the way he felt inside. As if it was raining. Pouring down and flushing away all that was good and whole. As if it were running down a gigantic drain.
And Rune had chewed him out, on top of everything else. Yelled and screamed and said he damn well didn't see that Sebastian was making enough of an effort. That he had to do better. That he wasn't going to have any future if he didn't work harder, because he certainly didn't seem to have a good head for studying. But he had tried. As much as he could under the circumstances. It wasn't his fault that everything turned to shit.
His eyes were stinging. Angrily he wiped them with the sleeve of his jumper. The last thing he wanted was to sit here blubbering like some cry-baby. Especially when it was all his own fault. If he'd only been a little stronger, then it wouldn't have had to happen. Not the first time. Not the second time either. Not over and over and over again.
Now the tears were running down his cheeks, and he rubbed them so hard with the rough sleeve of his jumper that red streaks appeared on his face.
For a moment he had an impulse to put an end to it all. It would be so easy: a few steps to the edge, then he could jump. In a couple of seconds it would all be over, and no one would really care. Rune would surely be relieved. Then he wouldn't have to take care of somebody's else's kid. Maybe he could even meet someone else and have the son he really wanted.
Sebastian stood up. The thought was still tempting. He walked slowly over to the cliff and looked down. It was a steep drop. He tried to imagine how it would feel. To fly through the air, utterly Weightless for a few moments, and then the thud when his body hit the ground. Would he feel anything at all in that instant? Testing, he stuck one foot over the edge of the cliff and let it hang free in the air. Then the thought struck him that he might not die from the fall. What if he survived, but as a cripple or something like that? A drooling vegetable for the rest of his life. Then Rune really would have something to grumble about. Although he would no doubt bundle him off to some nursing home as quickly as possible.
With his foot hanging over the edge Sebastian hesitated. Then he sat down again and slowly scooted back. With his arms hugging his chest he gazed out towards the horizon. Far, far away.
As soon as Niclas walked in the door she threw herself over him.
'What happened? Aina rang and said that the police came and got you at work, is that true?' Lilian's voice was anxious, bordering on panic-stricken. 'I haven't said anything to Charlotte,' she added.
Niclas waved her off, but Lilian wasn't that easy to dismiss. She followed close on his heels as he walked to the kitchen, bombarding him with questions. He ignored her and went straight to the coffee- maker and poured himself a big cup of coffee. The machine was shut off and the coffee was hardly more than lukewarm, but it didn't matter. He needed coffee, or a big glass of whisky, but it was probably best if he stuck to the non-alcoholic alternative.
He sat down at the table, and Lilian followed his example as she scrutinized him. What sort of idiotic ideas had the police come up with now? Didn't they know that Niclas was someone to be respected, a doctor, a successful man? Once again she was amazed that her daughter had had such luck, that she had made such a catch. Of course, they were only teenagers when they started going out together, but Lilian had seen immediately that Niclas was a man with a future, and so she had encouraged the relationship. She ascribed it to luck that Niclas chose Charlotte above all the other girls who were running after him. She was pretty cute, of course, when she made an effort, but even as a teenager she had put on a few too many kilos, and worst of all she had no ambitions. And yet Charlotte had won what her mother had wished for most of all. Lilian had worn her son-in-law's success like a star on her chest, but now everything was at risk. She was terrified of the gossip- mongers in town, who would instantly start spreading rumours if it came out that the police had taken Niclas in for questioning. His eyes were completely red from crying too, so they must have given him a hard time.
'Well, what did they want?'
'They just had a few questions,' Niclas said dismissively, drinking the now lukewarm coffee in big gulps.
'What sort of questions?' Lilian refused to give up. If she was going to have to run the gauntlet whenever she ventured into town, she at least wanted to know what it was all about.
But Niclas ignored her. He got up and put the empty coffee cup in the dishwasher.
'Is Charlotte downstairs?'
'She's resting,' said Lilian, not bothering to conceal her anger at not getting an answer.
'I'm going down to talk to her.'
'What do you want to talk to her about?' Lilian still wouldn't let up. But by now Niclas had had enough.
'That's between me and Charlotte. I already told you it was nothing special. I assume I'm allowed to speak with my own wife without informing you, aren't I? Erica is right, it's time for Charlotte and me to get a place of our own.'
Lilian shrank back with every syllable. Niclas had always treated her with respect, so his words now felt like slaps in the face. Especially after all she had done for him. For him and Charlotte.
The injustice of it all made her blood boil, and she searched for something caustic to say, but found nothing until he was already halfway down the stairs. She sat down at the kitchen table again. Her thoughts were tumbling about in her head. How could he speak to her that way? She had never had anything but their best interests in mind. She had constantly made sacrifices and put her own interests last. They were like leeches, sucking all the energy out of her. Lilian could see it so clearly now. Stig, Charlotte, and now Niclas as well. They were all exploiting her. They took and took from her outstretched hand, without ever giving anything in return.
Charlotte sat thinking about her father. It was strange, but during the eight years that had passed since his death, she had thought about him less and less. The memories had turned into vague, out-of-focus images of a few specific moments. But since Sara died, she remembered him as clearly as if he'd passed away yesterday.
They had been very close, she and Lennart. Much closer than she and her mother had ever been. Sometimes it had almost felt as if they shared the same soul. He had always been able to make her laugh. Her mother seldom laughed, and Charlotte couldn't remember a single instance when they had
