Minus Me (23 page)

‘You seem uptight. Is it something to do with your sister?’ she asks gently.

‘Stop asking!’ Zak snarls.

‘Oh, sorry for caring! You didn’t have to come with me all the way, especially if you’re just going to be grumpy,’ Linda snarls back, stopping at the cottage gate.

‘I want to see your cottage and this amazing guy Axel,’ says Zak, pushing past her to open the gate.

‘But what about your sister? Do I get to meet her?’

‘Stop going on about her, will you?’ he says, slamming the gate behind him and striding towards the cottage.

Linda opens the gate again and follows him up the winding path. He stands by the front door, peering in through a window. He has his hands around his eyes like a funnel, to see in better.

‘Key?’ he asks, turning towards her as she approaches. Any sign of his outburst down by the gate has gone.

‘In my rucksack. The one you were so keen for me to leave in the car,’ says Linda sarcastically, slipping it off her shoulder.

‘We’d have got in without it,’ says Zak, starting to whistle.

‘We’d have broken in, would we? What happened to all that talk about right and wrong?’

‘It’s not exactly breaking in when it’s your own cottage,’ he says, standing aside.

Linda doesn’t answer. She just turns the key in the lock and opens the door. The smell of twelve summers and a thousand memories rushes towards her from the hallway: the warm, musty odour of old raincoats, wellies and pine. She goes in and turns on the light.

‘Come in, then,’ she says over her shoulder.

Zak steps over the threshold and kicks off his boots, one of them with such force that it flies into the wall with a thud.

‘Sorry,’ he says, picking up both boots and putting them neatly on the doormat.

‘Do you want a pair of socks?’ asks Linda, passing him the basket of thick woollen socks that her family wear as slippers in the cottage.

‘No, thanks,’ says Zak.

Linda follows his gaze down to his socks and sees he has a hole in one of his big toes.

‘Well, maybe,’ he says, choosing a pair of grey rag-socks.

Linda takes her rainbow socks as usual. But as she pulls them on, she remembers they were a bit small for her last summer.

‘That’s strange,’ she says, finding that they don’t feel tight. Is her memory playing tricks?

‘Well, are you going to show me around?’ he says.

‘Of course.’

Linda opens the door onto the large room, the kitchen and living room. She walks over to the large windows that face the sea and pulls back the curtains.

‘Wow,’ exclaims Zak.

‘Yes. Amazing, isn’t it?’

The view is so familiar to her, but she tries to see it through Zak’s eyes now. The moon, which seems as full as on the night they were in the cathedral tower, lights up the landscape softly and glitters on the fjord.

‘It must be amazing here in the summer,’ he says.

‘Yes. You see that rock over there? The huge one that drops straight down into the sea?’

‘Yes?’

‘We call it the Black Cliff, and every summer all the toughest teenagers dive from it. I’ve always thought I’d do it one day. Now I’ll never know what it’s like to do a dive like that.’

‘Are you sure?’ asks Zak, taking her hand.

‘Doctor’s orders.’

‘Are you sure the doctor’s right? You’ve been doing all sorts of things you shouldn’t. You’ve climbed up the wall of Nidaros Cathedral, you’ve driven a car and crashed it. One more bad thing can’t do you any harm, surely?’ says Zak.

Linda wants to be persuaded by his argument.

She turns to Zak, who is standing close at her side and holding her hand. His face looks white in the light of the moon. White and almost luminous, but with dark-blue shadows under his eyes. He must surely be an angel, she thinks. What else can he be? Although she didn’t know angels could be so grumpy. Suddenly Linda remembers a prayer her grandmother used to say when she went to stay the night in her downstairs flat: Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Isn’t that what Zak has done this whole time? Taken care of her and lead her safely here? Yes, she wants to believe that. She wants to believe that everything is somehow linked.

So there she stands, on the edge of the Black Cliff. Her bare feet against the bare rock. She is shivering, in just her knickers and t-shirt. The moon has hidden itself behind the clouds, and the fjord is black beneath her. Which is just as well, since it makes it look less far down. She curls her toes, but that doesn’t make her any warmer. She might just as well dive straight in. Standing here only makes it worse. Then it begins to snow. The flakes feel like little kisses against her skin, giving her goosebumps. She sees the hair on her arms rise. Zak is sitting on the jetty, waiting for her with a towel and a thick blanket. Linda tries to calm herself. She tells herself it isn’t dangerous. The trick is to do the dive in exactly the same way as she would at the pool. Just keep calm. She can hear her coach’s voice in her head. All the things he says when they’re doing something more advanced: concentrate, focus, feel your body, run through the dive in your head, and remember to enter the water at the right angle. Not too steep an angle, nor too shallow. Linda stares down into the darkness. She hears the waves lapping against the rock below. Soon she’ll be warm and safe again. Linda closes her eyes.

‘If I survive this, I can survive anything,’ she says to herself, lifting her arms above her head.

She tenses her body, and tries to feel her heart. It’s beating a little faster than usual, but it doesn’t feel bad. She looks down towards the jetty, and can just make out the shadowy form of Zak. Is he nodding? She can’t tell.

Now she dives.

Chapter 48

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die. If that’s the case, Linda is not going to die now. As she dives, and as she glides soundlessly into the icy water, she only sees pictures of a possible future. She sees Axel opening the door for her, smiling, inviting her in and kissing her. She sees herself as an older sister, holding a little bundle in her arms, and her parents beaming at her. She sees herself as a young woman, in a big lecture hall, writing important notes. She sees herself getting a job and a house of her own. She sees herself getting married to Axel, having children and getting old together. And at the end, at the very end, she sees an old woman sitting on a bench. And she knows that this old woman is herself. Linda stretches out and touches the woman’s shoulder. The old woman turns and, lifting her hand to her head, she suddenly rips off her hair. It isn’t an old version of herself who is laughing at Linda now, but Zak. Zak has thrown off the grey wig and is laughing at her. Linda opens her eyes. The water is pitch black all around her. She must swim back up. She struggles a little before she finally feels herself rising to the top. But instead of breaking the surface as she’d expected, she feels a hand on her head. A hand that’s clutching at her hair and holding her under the water. She tries to wrench herself free. She grabs the hand and tugs at it. Bubbles stream from her mouth as she tries to scream underwater. She needs air. She needs air now! Is it Zak who’s holding her down? It’s impossible to get away, however hard she twists and turns. Then she tries a new tactic, making herself as heavy and lifeless as she can. She breathes out the last air in her lungs, to make herself sink better. Finally, the grip on her hair loosens, and she floats downwards, feeling warm, and weightless. Linda opens her eyes. She sees a gigantic cod swimming towards her. As it passes it strokes her face and slaps her with its tail. Linda starts to struggle towards the surface again. This time she gets her head above water, and gasps greedily for air. Then, desperate, she starts turning in the water, trying to get her bearings. She spots Zak sitting on the jetty. He is drying his arm, and pulling the sleeve of his coat back down. He is not even trying to disguise the fact that he was the one holding her head under the water. Linda feels a dark and violent anger rising in her.

‘Oy, you!’ she yells, swimming towards the jetty with long, strong strokes.

‘Oh, hi there!’ he says, folding the towel up neatly and putting it next to him. Then he stretches his hand out to help her up. Linda pretends not to have seen it, and climbs out on her own and grabs the towel. Without a word she pats herself dry, and Zak hands her the blanket.

‘Well, that went perfectly!’ says Zak, as if everything was normal.

‘Perfectly? Perfectly! You tried to murder me!’ Linda shouts.

‘Don’t exaggerate,’ says Zak casually, arranging her shoes for her, so she can just shove her feet in.

Linda kicks them away and launches herself at Zak and pins him down on the jetty.

‘Who are you . . . really?’

‘Let me go,’ says Zak calmly, sweeping her firmly to one side.

‘What are you? What kind of sick being are you?’ she asks, determined not to let him avoid the question this time. She’s not giving up until she has an answer.

‘This isn’t exactly easy for me either, if that’s what you think!’ he yells.

Linda can see Zak’s chest heaving up and down under his t-shirt.

‘Damn! I think I need some time to myself,’ he says, shaking his head angrily and walking off.

‘No! No! No!’ Linda shouts.

She throws herself at him and catches hold of one of his legs. But again he shakes her off, this time so violently that she rolls back out into the water. She struggles to the surface once again, only to find that the jetty is empty. She can see no sign of Zak.

‘Damn you! To hell with you, you coward!’ she screams into the night, hoping he can hear.

Then she turns onto her back in the water, and lies there, floating. Suddenly she feels her chest thumping wildly. There are too many things now that don’t make sense. Why doesn’t she feel the cold any more?

‘Mum?’ she hears herself say. And she sounds like a scared little girl. ‘Mum?’ she says again, as she swims back to the jetty, where she dries herself, and stuffs her feet in her shoes, without bothering to get dressed.

As she darts back up to the cottage with the blanket wrapped round her, she holds a hand to her chest. Her heart feels almost still, even though it’s a steep path up from the water’s edge. Linda feels someone following her in the dark. She glances round, but she can see no one. She gets a shudder up her spine. Is it Zak? Has he come back to kill her? The sound of meowing makes Linda sigh with relief. It’s just a cat. She stops. The cat stops.

‘Come on, pussycat,’ says Linda, aware she needs company now.

The cat is completely black and reminds her of the cat she saw in her backyard at home. But it’s difficult to distinguish one black cat from another. This one seems a lot friendlier than the last, as it trots after her. When she opens the door, it saunters confidently into the hallway. Linda can’t help smiling, and the cat answers her with a purr.

‘Do you want some food, my little friend?’ she asks, looking down at the cat now rubbing itself against her legs. The feeling of its fur against her bare skin gives her goosebumps.

‘I’ve got a sandwich in my bag. Do you want that?’

Linda gets the rest of her packed lunch out. Olga hadn’t let them go without giving them some food for the journey. There are two sandwiches left, and a slab of that cake with the suspiciously distant sell-by date. The cat won’t want that of course. Linda puts half a liver-pâté sandwich on the floor. The cat sniffs it, sticks its tail in the air and struts into the sitting room.

‘Alright. So you’re not hungry,’ says Linda.

She thinks, rather than actually feels, that she needs a warm shower and dry clothes. The cat will have to look after itself for a while. She turns towards the front door and puts her hand on the lock. Should she put it on? Shouldn’t she leave it open in case Zak returns? In case he regrets going off? Or perhaps the thought of his return ought to make her more determined to lock up. The way he held her under the water! She puts the lock on and goes into the bathroom. Linda looks in the mirror over the sink. Her nose looks perfectly fine, and even the tinge of yellowy blue has gone. It’s hardly surprising she thought Zak was an angel, when he could cure her so quickly. It was like a miracle. Now she doesn’t know what to think. Perhaps he’s the opposite of an angel. A devil sent from hell to make her life unbearable.

Warm and dry, Linda lies on the sheepskin rug in front of the hearth. The fire crackles cosily. There’s a stormy wind outside and it has started to rain. Even with the cat curled up and purring next to her, she feels lonely. She regrets throwing her mobile away. There’s no phone at the cottage, and she’d love to hear her parents’ voices right now. Even though they’re bound to be angry and frightened. It would be nice to talk to Maria too, and tell her about the concert. She forgot to text the photo to Maria, and the film clip of her playing with the Pet Monsters has gone now as well. How could she be so stupid to have thrown her phone away? Surely it would have been enough just to switch it off? And perhaps she should have rung Axel, or at least sent him a text? Imagine if he’s not at home when she rings at his door tomorrow? Oh well, she won’t see that phone again. Linda lies on her back, closes her eyes and tries to sleep. The cat is lying right next to her ear, purring. Linda sighs, and shuts her eyes even tighter. No more brooding now, she’s got to sleep.