my way back.'
He hadn't replied, had just stood there with his arms hanging down, looking at her back. She had been swaying slightly, looking absolutely done in.
'You'll work yourself to death,' he'd said, in a drier tone of voice than he'd intended.
'I know,' she'd said, putting her coat on the desk and going to the bathroom. He had gone into the bedroom, pulling the bedspread down while listening to the running water and the brushing of teeth. When she came to bed, he'd pretended to be asleep. She didn't notice. She had kissed him on the neck and stroked his hair, then she'd fallen fast asleep in two seconds. He had lain awake for a long time, listening to the cars in the street and her soft breathing.
He got off the bus at Slussen to walk the few blocks up to his office on Hornsgatan. A damp wind was blowing from the bay, and an early street vendor had already assembled his stall, selling straw Santas in front of the underground station.
'Some glogg for the early bird, sir?' said the hawker, holding out a steaming cup of alcohol-free mulled wine to Thomas as he passed.
'Well, why not?' Thomas said and fished out some money from his pocket. 'And give me a gingerbread heart too, the biggest one you have.'
'Can I ride too, Mom?' Kalle said and placed himself at the back of the stroller so it nearly overturned. Annika caught hold of it at the last moment.
'No, I think we'll leave the stroller at home today since it's so slushy outside.'
'But I want to go in it, Mom,' Ellen said.
Annika went back to the elevator, gently shoved her out, and closed the doors. She crouched on the carpet in the stairwell and gave Ellen a hug. The stiff beaver nylon of her snowsuit felt cold against her cheek.
'We'll take the bus today, and I'll carry you. Would you like that?'
The girl nodded and put her arms around her neck, hugging her tight.
'I want to be with you today, Mom.'
'I know, but you can't. I have to go to work. But on Friday we'll all be together. Do you know what day that is?'
'Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve!' Kalle shouted.
Annika laughed. 'That's right. And do you know how many days it is until then?'
'Three weeks,' Ellen said and held up three fingers.
'Dimwit,' Kalle said. 'It's four days.'
'Don't call people dimwits, but you're right, it's four days. Where are your mittens, Ellen? Did we forget them? No, here they are…'
Outside on the pavement, the slushy snow had turned to water. A thin drizzle was falling and the world was an absolute even gray. She carried the girl on her left arm and held Kalle's hand with the other. Her bag bounced on her back with each step she took.
'You smell nice, Mom,' Ellen said.
She walked up Scheelegatan and took the 40 bus from outside Indian Curry House, rode two stops, and got off by the white 1980s palace where Radio Stockholm was housed. The children's daycare center was on the third floor. Kalle had been coming here since he was fifteen months old, Ellen since she was just over a year old. When talking to other parents, she realized they'd been lucky; the staff were long-serving and competent, and the manager was committed.
The hallway was full of people and noise, and the grit and the snow had collected in a mound inside the front door. There were screaming children and admonishing parents everywhere.
'Is it okay for me to join in the morning assembly today?' Annika asked and one of the staff nodded.
Her two children sat at the same table during meals. Despite all their fighting at home, they were good friends at daycare. Kalle protected his little sister. Annika sat with Ellen on her lap during the breakfast and had coffee and a sandwich.
'We're going on a trip on Wednesday so the kids need to bring a packed lunch,' one of the staff said, and Annika nodded.
After breakfast, they gathered in a room filled with cushions where they held roll call and sang some songs. Quite a few children had already started their Christmas holidays. Those that were still there sang the old classics 'I'm a Little Rabbit,' 'Fabian the Pirate,' and 'In a House at the Edge of the Wood.' Then they talked a bit about Christmas and finished with a Christmas song.
'Now I have to go,' Annika said as they all filed out. Ellen started crying, and Kalle clung to her arm.
'I want to stay with you, Mommy,' Ellen wailed.
'Daddy is picking you up early today, after the afternoon snack,' Annika said cheerfully while trying to free herself of the children's arms. 'Won't that be fun? Then you can go home and do some Christmas stuff, maybe go and buy a Christmas tree. Would you like that?'
'Yes!' Kalle said, Ellen joining in like a little echo.
'See you tonight,' she said, quickly shutting the door on the children's little noses. She paused for a moment outside the door, listening for any reaction inside. She heard nothing. With a sigh she opened the front door.
She caught the 56 bus outside the Trygg-Hansa building and didn't reach work until half past ten. The newsroom was full of babbling people. For some reason she could never get used to this. To her the normal state of the newsroom was when it was one big empty room with only a few people sitting quietly in front of flickering computer screens with some telephones ringing continuously for background noise. That was what it was like at the weekends and at night, but now there were close to ninety people here. She grabbed a copy of all the papers and started toward her own room.
'Nice job, Annika!' someone shouted, she couldn't tell who. She waved her hand above her head in acknowledgement.
Eva-Britt Qvist was clattering on her computer.
'Nils Langeby has taken paid leave today,' she said without looking up.
Still sulking, in other words. Annika hung up her coat, went to get a cup of coffee, and walked past her pigeonhole. It was jammed. She groaned loudly and looked around for a bin to dump her coffee in; she'd never be able to take both the mail and the coffee without spilling it.
'Why this loud groaning?' she heard Anders Schyman say behind her, and she gave an embarrassed smile.
'Oh, it's just all this mail. Opening it is such a waste of time. We get more than a hundred press releases and letters every day. It takes forever to go through it all.'
'But there's no reason you should sit there opening letters,' Schyman said in surprise. 'I thought Eva-Britt did that.'
'No, I began doing it when the last chief went to New York and I've just kept on doing it.'
'It was Eva-Britt's job before he became foreign correspondent. It makes more sense for her to take care of the mail, unless you want to control it. Do you want me to have a word with her?'
'Thanks, it would be a great relief.'
Anders Schyman picked up the whole pile of letters and dumped it in Eva-Britt Qvist's pigeonhole.
'I'll speak to her right away.'
Annika went over to Ingvar Johansson who, as always, sat with the phone glued to his ear. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before and the day before that. Annika wondered if he got undressed before he went to bed.
'The police are pissed at you. Your piece about the security codes,' he said when he'd hung up.
Annika stiffened. Fear pounded like a fist in her stomach and roared in her forehead.
'What? Why? Have I made a mistake?'
'No, but you've blown their best lead sky high. They say you'd promised not to mention the codes.'
She felt the panic rising in her veins like a seething poison.
'But I didn't write about the codes! I didn't even mention the word!'
