Fire (30 page)

‘Is that so? You must think I’m ugly, then?’

‘Give over, Ida,’ Erik groans at the same time as Robin says something about how there are exceptions, really.

Ida remains cool, with an effort. No scenes, not now. She must pick her own battles.

Especially keeping in mind that everyone is turning up at her parents’ autumn party tonight. Mum has planned the evening meticulously. Nothing left to chance. Nothing must be allowed to spoil the atmosphere.

‘I must go home now,’ Ida says. ‘Got to help with the preparations. Do be punctual, darlings.’

She smiles warmly to Erik and Robin to demonstrate that all is forgiven and leaves them.

As she walks down the corridor, sunny-looking yellow stickers radiate happiness from at least every tenth locker door. ‘I AM POSITIVE! I AM POSITIVE! I AM POSITIVE!’

She carries on down the main staircase. In the entrance lobby, she catches sight of Viktor leaning against the wall near the stairs to the gym hall. He notices her and ambles over to intercept her. Has he been waiting for her?

Oh, shit, what now? Ida thinks.

It must be something special. It always is. Why couldn’t the Council simply carry Anna-Karin off and sort it once and for all, instead of wasting everybody’s time? Ida is so fed up with all this. She would have had no problem whatsoever with telling all about what Anna-Karin got up to. But the book tells her to collaborate with the others.

‘Looking forward to tonight?’ Viktor asks when he has stopped in front of her.

‘Why do you ask?’ Ida says and puts on her sunglasses.

‘Everyone who’s anyone in Engelsfors seems to be going
to tonight’s party at your place,’ he says smilingly.

Why does everything he says sound insulting?

‘Are you bitter because you weren’t asked, or what?’

‘Not at all. I would probably have found it a little hard to fit in.’

That sounds like an insult, too.

‘Yeah, probably,’ she says.

She quickly examines his expensive Stockholm clothes, his smooth face that seems to have no pores to speak of. What everyone says behind his back must be true, he has to be. Guys simply aren’t that good-looking, with such immaculate hair, unless they are.

‘What do you want?’ she says. ‘I’m busy.’

‘I just thought I’d better check if you and the
Book of Patterns
have been chatting at all recently? Because you’re apparently the only one who can read it?’

She doesn’t know what he’s after, but has no intention of being so easily tricked.

‘No, I haven’t. And, yes, I am the only one. Will that do?’

Viktor’s smile becomes even broader.

‘Perfect!’ he says. ‘Have a nice evening. I hope the party is a success.’

He disappears, walking towards the main staircase at the other side of the entrance lobby. Ida stands where she is for a while, filled with a weird feeling that she has been tricked somehow.

My only love, sprung from my only hate. Too early seen unknown, and known too late.

Minoo’s finger follows Juliet’s line on the page of the tattered library copy of the play.

Last year she lied to her parents about being absent because the class was working on
Romeo and Juliet
in the
English classes. ‘Rehearsing’ was her alibi when she went to the fairground lessons in magic. Ironically, that lie has become the truth.

Now, Minoo wonders how Patrick, the uptight English teacher, is going to handle all the innuendo in the text. Romeo and his band of mates are of course exactly like any sex-fixated teenage guys anywhere. Not that their latter-day counterparts seem to have a clue. Kevin, for instance, has been moaning about how he can’t relate to ‘that mouldy old play’.

There is something ironic, too, about the way Juliet’s line about Romeo chimes so exactly with Minoo’s feelings for Max.

Minoo knows what it is like to fall in love and then discover that the man of your dreams is a mortal enemy. But at least Romeo didn’t set out to murder Juliet and her friends.

Minoo wonders if she will ever dare to fall in love again. It’s unlikely, she thinks. If she doesn’t, her worst enemy will be the only one she has ever loved.

Her rucksack vibrates and she lets the book fall shut. It’s a text from Vanessa to say that she has managed to pick the lock to the chemistry lab store and steal a jar of iron filings.

Minoo puts the mobile back in her bag, pulls out the bottle of water and drinks a couple of mouthfuls. Then she rests her head in her hands. The school library is so peaceful. She knows that sleep would come easily, that she could slip into dreams and not have to think.

Her head feels heavier and heavier.

‘This is a lot of cult propaganda!’

Minoo comes awake with a jerk.

Surely that was Johanna, the librarian?

Minoo gets up, carefully so that the chair legs don’t scrape on the floor. She peeps cautiously between the rows of
shelving and sees a fraction of a yellow shirt patterned with bright red maple leaves. It has to be Tommy Ekberg. Johanna faces him.

Minoo creeps closer, as silently as possible. Pretends to study the backs of the books, just in case they catch sight of her.

‘I’m afraid I’m not happy about this,’ Johanna says.

‘We are following this new guideline—’ Tommy starts to say.

Johanna interrupts him.

‘Which was introduced overnight!’

‘The teaching staff are with me all the way.’

‘Half of them have already joined Positive Engelsfors and that hardly makes the issue any less problematic. This is a local authority senior school, the only one in the whole catchment area, but now we’re suddenly meant to collaborate with a private enterprise. And here you are, already having opinions about the library’s stock of books!’

Minoo glances at them and notices a stack of colourful books in Tommy’s arms. The titles on the backs promise prescriptions for how to become wealthy, happy, healthy and generally a success in every way. He bends stiffly and puts the books on the floor at Johanna’s feet.

‘I’m just adding to what’s on offer. The pupils are free to make up their own minds.’ His back creacks as he straightens up.

‘But that’s precisely the point!’ Johanna exclaims. ‘How are they going to learn to think critically if they keep hearing sermons in school telling them to have a positive approach to everything and ignore anything difficult? How on earth are they going to learn to change things if they’re taught that only their own attitude matters?’

‘The positive approach is a scientifically proven method
that has led to success for groups like company directors and sports stars.’

‘It is a method for turning people into acquiescent yes-sayers! The world around us can be a terrible place, it’s a fact you can’t just think away—’

Tommy interrupts her with a laugh.

‘But dear Johanna, haven’t you heard the song about
wiping away your sour face
? Maybe you’d better listen to it. Nobody likes to be around a killjoy.’

Johanna stares at him.

‘Are you serious?’ she says.

‘If you’re not happy here there’s no need for you to return after your maternity leave. I am sure there are other librarians who will understand what we are trying to achieve here.’

‘I have no intention of abandoning the pupils. And you can’t make me go as quietly and obediently as Adriana.’

These are her last words. She disappears from sight and Minoo wishes she could run after Johanna and tell her how much she admires her, how much she is needed.

Tommy Ekberg stands looking at his stack of books for a moment. And then starts picking them up, one by one, and arranging them on a display table with a First World War theme.

Minoo has seen enough.

Back at her table, she finds Viktor with
Romeo and Juliet
open in front of him.

‘Have you noticed that when the play starts, Romeo is pining for
another
girl?’ he says and turns a page without looking up. ‘And tells her that he’ll never look at anyone but her. Only to stand and drool below Juliet’s balcony a few hours later. It rather leaves you with the impression that if they had survived, their relationship wouldn’t have lasted all that long.’

‘What do you want?’ Minoo asks.

‘Did you know that there are versions of this story with a happy ending? Maybe they’ll force us to read it now that everything is so
positive
…’

Minoo closes the book. Viktor looks up at her, smiling a little. He holds a mobile and it takes her a moment before she recognises it as her own.

‘I’ve sent a message to your mum. You will be late back tonight because you’re doing homework at a friend’s house.’

Anger rushes through Minoo and shakes her.

‘Give it back,’ she says.

‘You’ll get it back when we’re finished for tonight,’ Viktor says. ‘You’re required for interrogation.’

They are sitting in Linnéa’s freshly cleaned living room. From her end of the sofa, Diana is looking watchfully at Linnéa.

‘I am truly, truly sorry,’ Linnéa says. ‘Please forgive me.’

She spots a satisfied spark in Diana’s eyes and carries on apologising.

‘I haven’t felt all that well lately. It’s a year now since Elias died. And I’ve been thinking a lot about him. It’s been hard to keep track of anything else.’

Diana raises her eyebrows.

‘I meant that as an explanation, not an excuse,’ Linnéa adds quickly. ‘I have been doing things that are wrong, I know. But I feel better now. What I’m trying to say is, I still miss Elias, but it is as if I am beginning to … heal. Of course, it helps to talk to Jakob as well.’

She feels disgusting throughout all this. It’s disgusting to use Elias in this way.

But he would understand. He knew how much the flat means to her. That she would sink if she lost it.

‘You’re quite right to say that it’s no excuse,’ Diana says.

Linnéa wonders what has actually happened to her. She isn’t like the old Diana at all. It’s not only
what
she says but
how
she says it.

‘Still, I’m glad that you’ve stopped lying to me,’ Diana continues. ‘So, for now, we’ll let bygones be bygones.’

‘Thank you.’

She wonders if Diana is actually out to get her or if someone is feeding her lies. Linnéa can’t pick up any clues in her mind.

‘We’ll keep you under especially keen surveillance from now on,’ Diana says. ‘And if we receive just one more complaint from anyone in this house …’

She doesn’t finish the sentence.

‘Right,’ Linnéa says. ‘I hear what you say.’

A black car is parked a bit away from the school. Viktor unlocks the door with a remote key and walks round to the passenger door to open it for Minoo.

She dislikes intensely being subjected to Viktor’s old-fashioned manners and reaches for the door handle at the same time as he does. Their hands touch, but Minoo gets there first and opens the door herself. Viktor laughs a little and Minoo hopes he’ll choke on his own tongue.

Inside, the car smells of newness and expense. Viktor starts the engine.

‘Did you resit a year in school?’ she asks.

‘Why do you ask?’ Viktor says as he turns into the road.

‘Obviously you’ve got a driving licence. I hope so, anyway. Which means you must be over eighteen, right?’

‘I did tell you, you are smart,’ Viktor says. ‘Let’s do it this way. I won’t give anything away about my father or the Council, but I’ll answer three questions about me. Ask what you like.’

Viktor stops for a red light. Minoo looks at him.

‘You’re assuming that I’m interested enough to ask you questions about yourself.’

‘Haven’t you come across the line,
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer
?’

‘Of course I have.’

‘You seem convinced that I am your enemy. Now I’m offering you an opportunity to come closer,’ he says and smiles broadly.

She looks away. She doesn’t really want to join in his little game. But they know next to nothing about Viktor and Alexander. Just like Mona Moonbeam, they cannot be traced in any public records. It should be impossible in highly organised Sweden. But do members of the Council follow any laws except their own? Who knows?

In Nicolaus’s time, Council members clearly held superior posts in the real society. Perhaps they do nowadays as well.

The light changes to green and Viktor pulls away at high speed.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Ask away.’

Minoo remembers the fairy-tale conundrum about when someone is given three wishes that will come true. And then the person always asks for the wrong things.

She must think out the right questions. The manor house isn’t far now and she has a suspicion that Viktor’s offer won’t be open for ever.

‘Who are you?’

Viktor grins.

‘One of the great questions of philosophy, just for starters?’

‘You know what I mean. The basic facts.’

‘Viktor Ehrenskiöld, born Andersson,’ he says and his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel. ‘I assume that Linnéa has told you all about my background.’

‘Yes, she has.’

‘But she thought I was lying, didn’t she?’

Minoo would dearly like to know if he lied, but doesn’t want to waste a question on it.

‘I was born in Stockholm,’ he continues. ‘I am nineteen years old. So, yes, I have already passed my baccalaureate exams. And, yes, I can think of more stimulating things to do than going back to school. But the Council needs me to keep an eye on you lot. And, of course, I have never attended an ordinary senior school, so that’s at least a new experience.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That’s question number two,’ Viktor points out and Minoo curses herself for having made the same mistake as the characters in the fairy tales.

‘The Council have their own schools,’ he explains.

Naturally. Why shouldn’t they?

They cross Canal Bridge and turn into the track leading to the manor house.

‘One question to go,’ Viktor says when they are within sight of the house. Minoo finally makes up her mind.

‘What is your element?’

Viktor parks the car on the gravelled area in front of the house and turns to her. He reaches for the rucksack on the floor between her feet and pulls out the half-emptied water bottle. Holds it in front of her. The water crackles as it freezes. In a few seconds, it has become a lump of ice.