'A ticket? Where to?' asked Agnes, with her uneasiness rising. She also felt annoyed at the realization that he had withheld money from her.
'To America,' Anders said, seeming to expect a positive reaction. Instead Agnes felt the shock turn her face numb. What had that idiot gone and done now?
'America?' was all she could say.
He nodded eagerly. 'Yes, we're leaving next week, and you'd better believe I had to pull some strings to arrange everything. I've been in touch with some of the Swedes who went over there from Fjallbacka, and they assured me that there's plenty of work for someone like me. A man who's skilled can make himself a good future 'over there'.' This last he said in English with his broad Blekinge accent, evidently proud that he already knew two words in his new language.
Agnes wanted to lean forward and slap him right across his grinning, happy face. What was he thinking? Was he so naive that he actually believed she would get on a boat to a foreign land together with him and his brats? To end up in an even more dependent position, in an unfamiliar country, with a strange language and strange people? Certainly she hated her life here, but at least there was the possibility that she might someday get out of the hellhole she'd ended up in. Although to be honest she had toyed with the idea of travelling to America herself, but alone, without him and the kids as a shackle round her leg.
But Anders didn't see the horror in her face. Overjoyed, he took out the tickets and placed them on the table. In desperation Agnes regarded the four pieces of paper, spread out like a fan before him. She wanted to shrivel up and cry.
She had a week. A miserable week left to get out of this situation somehow. She forced herself to give Anders a smile.
Monica had driven to Konsum to buy groceries, but suddenly she set down the shopping basket and walked out the door without buying a thing. Something was telling her she had to get home. Her mother and grandmother had been the same way. They could sense things, and she too had learned to listen to her inner voice.
She floored the gas pedal of her little Fiat as she took the road around the mountain, past the Kullen neighbourhood. When she came round the curve on the road up to Salvik, she saw the police car parked outside their house and knew she had been right to heed her instincts. She parked right behind the police car and got out cautiously, terror-stricken at what she might encounter. Each night for the past week she'd had exactly the same dream. Police officers coming to their home and uncovering the very thing she'd done her utmost to put out of her mind. Now it was reality, not a dream, and she approached the house with reluctance. Trying to postpone the inevitable. Then she heard Morgan wailing, and she began to run. Up the garden path, out to his little cabin. He was standing in front of the door to the cabin screaming at two policemen. With his arms outstretched he was trying to block the entrance.
'Nobody can come into my house! It's mine!'
'We have a warrant,' said one policeman in an attempt to reason with him. 'We have to do our job, so please let us in.'
'No, you're just going to mess things up!' Morgan spread his arms even wider.
'We promise to be careful and disturb as little as possible. On the other hand, we may have to take a few things with us – if you have a computer in there, for instance.'
Morgan interrupted the policeman with a loud bellow. His eyes flicked back and forth and his body had started to twitch uncontrollably.
'No, no, no, no, no,' he chanted. He looked ready to defend his computers with his life, and Monica believed this was quite close to the truth. She hurried over to the group.
'What's going on? Can I help?'
'Who are you?' asked the policeman standing closest to her, but he didn't take his eyes off Morgan as he spoke.
'I'm Morgan's mother. I live here.' She pointed to the main house.
'Could you please explain to your son that we have a warrant to enter the cabin and look around? We're also permitted to take any computer equipment that may be in there.'
At the mention of the computers Morgan began to shake his head violently and again chanted, 'No, no, no, no…'
With great calm Monica walked up to him. As she fixed her gaze on the police officers, she put her arm round her son and stroked his back.
'Could you please tell me first why you're here? Then I'm sure I can help you.'
The younger of the two officers looked embarrassed and lowered his eyes. The older one who was certainly more hardened answered her calmly, 'We've taken in your husband for questioning, and we also have a warrant to search the premises.'
'May I ask why?' She could hear that she sounded unnecessarily cool, but to see those officers standing there trying to get past Morgan without giving her a reasonable explanation was not something she intended to accept.
'Your husband's name has come up in connection with possession of child pornography.'
Her hand stroking Morgan's back stopped short. She tried to speak but all that came out was a wheeze.
'Child pornography?' She cleared her throat to try and regain control of her voice. 'You must be mistaken. My husband, involved in child pornography?'
Thoughts began to tumble round in her head. Things she'd always wondered about, always pondered. But most overwhelming was a feeling of relief. They hadn't come because of what she feared most.
She took a few seconds to collect herself and then turned to Morgan.
'Now listen to me. You have to let them go inside the cabin. And you have to let them take the computers. You have no choice, it's the police. It's their right.'
'But what if they mess things up? And what about my schedule?' The shrill pitch of his voice wasn't the usual monotone, but displayed unusual sensitivity.
'I'm sure they'll be careful, just as they said. And you have no choice.' She stressed this last sentence and could feel him begin to calm down. It was always easier for Morgan to handle situations in which he had no choice.
'Do you promise not to mess things up?'
The policemen nodded, and Morgan slowly took a step away from the door.
'And you have to be careful with the files on the computers. I have a lot of jobs stored there.'
Again they nodded, and now he stepped out of the way and let them go inside.
'Why are they doing this, Mamma?'
'I don't know,' Monica lied. Relief was still the dominant emotion inside her. But slowly the realization of what the officers had said began to sink in. A feeling of disgust began to form in her stomach and work its way upwards. She took Morgan by the arm and led him to the front of the house. She kept turning her head to look back with concern towards the cabin.
'Don't worry, they promised to be careful.'
'Are we going inside the big house?' said Morgan. 'I don't usually go in the big house this time of day.'
'No, I know that,' said Monica. 'But today we have to do something totally different. We can't bother the policemen. So you have to come with me to Aunt Gudrun's house.'
He looked confused. 'But we only go there at Christmas. Or when one of them
