Fire (36 page)

‘Vanessa, you two have been away for such ages!’ Mum exclaims. She is sitting on the sofa, swaying to the music. ‘Come here and sit down!’

She pats the seat next to her. Vanessa sneaks a glance at the box of rosé wine and the two glasses on the sofa table. One of the glasses is half full.

Mum grabs the box and fills both glasses to the brim with much splashing and dribbling.

‘Isn’t it cosy? Just us girls at home alone,’ she says and hands Vanessa her glass.

Vanessa looks quizzically at her. What’s this, a trap?

‘I do think you should be allowed a few sips at home,’ Mum says and winks. ‘You’re a big girl now. And I’m not as easily tricked as you think, Nessa. I know perfectly well you take a drink every now and then.’

Vanessa takes the glass and drinks. The wine tastes like ice-cold lingonberry juice.

She quickly checks the time on her mobile. More than an hour to go before Mum is due to meet up with some mates from work and go to the ‘Singles’ Sunday Night’ in Götis.

She drinks another mouthful of wine and puts the glass down. It’s too weird, sitting here drinking with her mother.

‘Just imagine, you’ll be eighteen next year,’ Mum says. ‘Then we can do Götis nights together. Two cool single girls! We’ll simply be
deadly dangerous
!’

Great, Vanessa thinks. If I’m not banned for life from Götis, and if the apocalypse doesn’t come before then, I have this fantastic chance to go out with my mum and pull men. Just the kind of existence I dream about.

She picks up her mobile. Starts writing a text, deletes, starts again. Finally decides.

Try again on a different sofa?

‘Do I, do you think?’ Mum asks.

‘Do what?’ Vanessa says and sends the text to Jari before she has time to regret it.

‘Do I look good? I mean, do I look all right?’

She cautiously pats her hair. Vanessa feels strangely moved by the gesture. She has blow-dried her hair a little too much, it looks like a lion’s mane. The style was probably right about fifteen years ago. But Mum’s make-up is expertly applied and she is wearing a bright red top that shows off her impressive cleavage.

‘You look fantastic,’ Vanessa tells her.

Mum smiles gratefully and drinks some more wine.

‘You know, Nessa, I really feel so good about everything,’ she says and leans back on the sofa. ‘I should have thrown Nicke out well before I did. Stole one’s will to live, he did. Having a good time meant nothing to him! And he was so damn cheap! We never even took holidays. Next year, we’ll go for a holiday in the sun, you and I and Melvin. We can have fun without men. Don’t you think so?’

‘Suits me just fine,’ Vanessa says and tries to look keen, but a wave of thoughts about the apocalypse flows into her mind.

In a dead world, nothing is left to offend the demons’ sense of order.

How will it look? Will fire and ashes rain down? Black, smoke-filled skies loom over the ruins of the cities of the world? Will the seawater evaporate in the heat, leaving a dead ocean floor?

Vanessa wishes that she hadn’t watched so many disaster movies. And that it was as easy to imagine the guardians who
are supposed to protect humanity.

‘There, we’ve decided,’ Mum says and refills her glass. ‘I’ll start to save up straight away. It’s important for us both to have something to look forward to.’

The playlist moves on to a slow tune. Mum changes to a faster one and talks on.

‘Still, Nicke is a good father for Melvin. And I thought he would be good for you as well. I must have wanted to believe that a little too much. I’ve always felt so bad about you growing up without a male role model.’

‘Doesn’t matter any more,’ Vanessa says. ‘He’s gone now.’

‘Exactly,’ Mum agrees. ‘And this time, I’m going to enjoy being single, not get hitched with the first guy on the horizon. I have finally come to realise that love doesn’t have to be so difficult and complicated to be for real. I know you’re not too keen on Helena Malmgren, but she really has made me see my own worth. And that happiness will be there for me, too.’

Vanessa must have made a face unintentionally, because Mum smiles a little grimly.

‘That’s to say, I am very happy with what I’ve got just now,’ she says and drains her glass. ‘No regrets, either. If I hadn’t met Nicke, I wouldn’t have had Melvin. And then I look at my very wonderful daughter and I’m so proud of her. You have grown up to be really special. So mature and responsible. Just take your job at Mona’s place …’

Her eyes are definitely tearful.

‘I’m happy if you’re happy,’ Vanessa says quietly and Mum puts her arm around Vanessa and kisses her forehead.

The tune’s refrain is starting and Mum shouts.

‘Come on, Nessa, let’s dance!’

Mum takes Vanessa’s hands and tries to pull her up from the sofa. But Vanessa hangs back.

‘Oh, Mum, give over,’ she says.

Mum just laughs, lets go and starts shaking her booty.

Vanessa catches sight of a blue tit perched on the windowsill, looking in. Even the bird looks embarrassed.

Ida leans her cheek against Troja’s muzzle and feels his calm filter into her. She would like to stand here all night.

‘I should have known that I’d become possessed all the same,’ she whispers to him. ‘Whatever, it always ends with me in the shit.’

She recalls what she saw when she was possessed, a reflection on the surface of still water. So that’s what Matilda looks like. Freckled face.

Ida’s power is totally pointless. She would much rather be able to communicate with the living than with the dead.

If only she could make Gustaf’s soul materialise and ask it a straight question.

Where would the glass go? YES or NO?

Mum and Dad were angry with her for coming here, instead of helping them to sort out the chaos left by the floods at home. But no way would she miss out on being with Troja. Not tonight. He is the antidote to all that has happened to her over the last twenty-four hours.

They have been out in the forest. She thought galloping could get her away from the filthy sensation that lingered in her body after the seance. The trail left by the other, who had ruled over Ida, taken control of her body, spoken through her mouth, seen through her eyes. Meanwhile, Ida herself had been dismissed into a corner where she had cowered, forced to experience everything from a distance.

Being stuck in that corner for ever is Ida’s worst nightmare.

She strokes Troja’s muzzle, then straightens up and starts scratching at that special place near his ear until sheer pleasure makes him close his eyes.

‘It will be all right in the end,’ Ida whispers. ‘Julia is on my side. She totally sees it my way. Felicia is thick and it isn’t my fault that she didn’t speak out earlier about how she felt for Robin. Besides, whatever they’ve got won’t last. And then she’ll come crawling back.’

Troja’s muzzle butts lightly against her.

‘And I’ve fixed things with Erik, too. I called him today and he agrees that Felicia was drunk out of her mind and talking a lot of rubbish.’

She has put her rucksack in the corner of the loose box. She gets a carrot for Troja. His lips nibble at it with tremendous delicacy. Always so careful not to hurt Ida.

She checks her bag again. A corner of the
Book of Patterns
sticks up. She has noticed scratches on the bridal chest, suggesting that someone, probably Lotta, has tried to force it open. Ever since then, she has always taken the book and the Pattern Finder with her if she goes out.

‘Maybe it will work better here?’ she says. ‘Hey, old boy?’

She picks up her bag and locks herself into one of the toilets, despite being certain that she is alone in the stables.

A handwritten note, taped to the wall above the toilet, forbids its use due to the water problems.

Someone hasn’t taken the ban seriously enough, judging by the smell.

Ida sits down on the lid and opens the book on her lap.

Will I be together with G in the end?

When she queries the book, it’s sometimes hard to focus her thoughts properly. But not this time.

She feels with all her heart that she must have an answer,
a straight, clear yes or no. The guardians must let her know how this will pan out – she can’t waste more time on pursuing something that might be hopeless. She can’t risk humiliation for no return.

The book does not answer. The signs remain motionless on the page. Apparently the guardians don’t care to communicate.

The Pattern Finder makes a ringing noise as Ida puts it on the handbasin. She is just about to close the book and get up, when the familiar dizziness takes over, stronger than ever.

And in the next instant, she’s
there
.

Close, close to Gustaf’s face. His lips meet hers and they merge, until she can hardly tell Gustaf’s mouth from her own.

She wants him so intensely it hurts.

Another split second passes and then she is back in the toilet.

She fumbles for the Pattern Finder, drops it on the floor among the scrunched-up paper towels around the waste bin. When she has got hold of it, she twists the segments and concentrates.

Was that a vision of the future?

The patterns shift across the pages, unbearably slowly.

Yes.

The book seems certain, but Ida doesn’t quite dare to trust its glorious message. Not yet.

All right, but you said there are different futures. Is this the one that will be?

She stares impatiently at the book.

Yes. In all probability. If you keep true to our agreement. Collaborate with the others. And, whatever you do, don’t join Positive Engelsfors.

Why would she even think about joining that pathetic cult?

‘I promise,’ she says loudly and has a strong sense of how satisfied the book is with her.

Don’t say anything to the others. This is our secret.

Ida promises once more. She’ll have no problem whatever with keeping this to herself.

For the first time this autumn, the evening air carries a hint of cold.

Minoo is curled up on the deckchair in her corner of the garden.
Romeo and Juliet
is next to her, closed.

She didn’t wake up until the afternoon. Mum and Dad were not at home and after a walk around town, she returned to a house that was still empty and unlit.

A gust of wind. She shivers, but doesn’t want to go inside into that silence.

Minoo thinks about everything that has happened since the night of the blood-red moon. She remembers Elias and Rebecka.

One of Max’s memories bubbles up to the surface. A visual memory of Rebecka falling off the roof of the school, falling to her death.

Where were the guardians then?

It seems to her that they are harder to believe in than the demons. As hard as it is to believe that their powers belong also to her.

Matilda had said almost exactly what Nicolaus had told her earlier.

You have no reason to be fearful as long as you use your power responsibly, for good. And I know you will.

Why hasn’t the book, and Matilda, told them earlier about the guardians and about Minoo’s powers? Matilda had said that the guardians don’t think in the human way, don’t have the same notion of time and that they communicate in
a different manner from humans. Is that the explanation? Couldn’t they grasp how much it matters to know these things?

A car slows down outside, turns into the drive to their garage.

Minoo hears the car doors slam, hears Mum and Dad going into the house and watches as the lights come on in there.

Mum calls her name. Minoo will go indoors soon, but not quite yet.

First, she must pull herself together.

Gather the strength she needs to feel sure that she won’t burst into tears and tell them that Engelsfors is a door and the demons are just outside, banging on it. That the apocalypse is approaching and is closing in fast. That they have no idea how to stop it.

‘We’re in the kitchen, Minoo. Come here, would you?’ Mum calls when Minoo opens the front door.

They are sitting at the kitchen table and as soon as Minoo sees the expressions on their faces, she knows.

The time has come. They will tell her now. Naturally, they would pick today of all days.

‘Sit down,’ Mum says with a quick glance at Dad.

Minoo realises that she is nervous. Meanwhile, Dad sweeps the crumbs on the table into a small pile, then stares fixedly at it.

Minoo crosses her arms on her chest. Steels herself. Right, let’s get it over and done with.

‘Just say what you’ve got to say.’

‘I have been offered a consultant’s post,’ Mum says. ‘In Stockholm.’

Minoo had been prepared for the word ‘divorce’. But not for this.

‘Actually, the offer came up early in the summer and I’ve been hesitating ever since, weighing up the pros and cons. But somewhere deep down, I knew all along that I would accept. It’s the kind of opportunity you have only once in your life.’

Minoo can’t process what she is being told. Her brain seems to have switched off.

‘You see, Minoo, twenty years ago I followed Erik here because he was so fired up about running the local paper in the town where he grew up. It was important to him to make it a really lively, high-quality newspaper. And I wanted to try life in a smaller town, experience a calmer tempo. But I can’t bear staying in Engelsfors much longer. That’s how I’ve felt for years … Of course, I want you and your father to come with me, but he refuses to leave the paper.’

Dad sighs impatiently, strongly enough to scatter the crumbs again.

‘In the end, I’ve made up my mind to make the move, come what may,’ Mum continues. ‘I must go for that job. I deserve it. And I know you’d like to complete your schooling in Stockholm. You’ve always talked about that, right through senior school …’

Mum doesn’t end the sentence and looks hopefully at Minoo instead.

She obviously expects Minoo to be overwhelmed, happy, ready to throw her arms around Mum’s neck and thank her for this wonderful chance to change her life.

Minoo hates her. Hates them both, because they’re only asking her now, for the first time, when it is too late.