The Key (62 page)

‘But has he had sex with Felix?’ Nejla asks.

‘I don’t know.’ Sigrid shrugs. ‘Probably.’

‘Please, everybody,’ Clara whimpers. ‘I can hear every word!’

‘I’ve never actually thought of Viktor as a sexual being at all,’ Minoo says.’He’s so … not physical.’

Sigrid and Nejla laugh.

‘He’s always so, you know, freshly ironed and never sweaty or anything,’ Minoo goes on, although she has a vague feeling she only ought to follow up this line of thought inside her own head. ‘I can hardly imagine him having any bodily functions. Like he was one of those Ken dolls underneath his clothes. As if there was nothing down there.’

Sigrid giggles. ‘There is. Trust me on this.’

‘Come on!’ Clara says, lowering her hands. ‘Please stop discussing my brother’s sex life.’

Everyone bursts out laughing.

‘We’re sorry, Clara,’ Sigrid says. ‘Let’s drink to that.’

They empty their glasses and Sigrid fills them again. Minoo can’t stop smiling. It reminds her of when the Chosen Ones swapped bodies, though this is the other way round. It is like she has swapped her soul with somebody. Somebody who doesn’t worry. Someone who talks easily about boys and sex with friends, and who doesn’t feel at all shy or weird about it.

‘I think I’ve got another one,’ Sigrid says.

She seems to be thinking it over, rocking the glass in her hand so that the amber-coloured liquid threatens to spill.

‘Here we go. I’ve never had sex.’

She and Nejla drink. Minoo and Clara look at each other.

Clara goes pink and Minoo feels sorry for her. How could Clara have had a sex life?

‘Have you made out with someone?’ Sigrid asks Minoo.

‘Well, yes.’

‘How long ago?’ Sigrid asks, smiling.

Now Minoo can’t help blushing. And suddenly she can’t help herself at all.

‘A couple of hours ago. With my boyfriend.’

It is the first time she’s used the word. She’s not been in a situation where she’s had a reason to call Gustaf anything but ‘Gustaf’. But she is pleased to say it now. And Sigrid responds just as Minoo has always imagined one’s girlfriends should.

‘Oh my God, oh my God!’ She bounces a little on the spot. ‘Why haven’t you said anything? Who is it?’

‘You don’t know him,’ Minoo says.

‘Is it Gustaf?’ Clara asks.

Minoo looks at her in surprise.

‘I saw you together once,’ Clara says. ‘You seemed to like each other a lot.’

‘How did you meet?’ Sigrid asks.

‘It’s a little complicated,’ Minoo says, and blushes even more deeply. ‘We started going out together three weeks ago, but we’ve known each other for a long time.’

‘And when did you realise that you actually loved him?’ Sigrid asks eagerly.

Minoo has a vision of Gustaf, and happiness explodes inside her. Her boyfriend is fantastic. And she has these lovely new friends who want to listen when she speaks about him.

‘I’m not sure … maybe six months ago, something like that.’

‘You’ve fancied him for half a year and you still haven’t had sex!’ Sigrid exclaims. ‘But I suppose you haven’t had much time to spare?’

‘They’ve had time to snog, for fuck’s sake.’ Nejla looks at Minoo. ‘Just do it.’

It sounds so simple the way Nejla puts it. Suddenly, Minoo can’t understand why she ever thought it was any more complicated than that.

‘Tell us more about him,’ Sigrid says. ‘Is he hot?’

‘Yes, he’s quite … perfect.’

‘That’s true actually,’ Clara says and lies down, closes her eyes and smiles.

‘What’s his element?’ Nejla asks.

Minoo looks up. Clearly, Nejla takes for granted that Gustaf is a witch, too. This is a dangerous direction for their talk to take.

‘Water,’ she says. At least she isn’t lying.

‘That’s Marcus’s as well,’ Nejla says with a dreamy expression.

‘There’s something special about the water element,’ Sigrid says, giggling.

‘Let’s do another round,’ Minoo says quickly, to change the subject.

‘I’ve got one,’ Nejla says, looking at Sigrid. ‘I’ve never had a sexy dream about Walter.’

No one drinks but Sigrid goes bright red again.

‘Oh my God, Nejla, what are you after?’

‘Nothing,’ Nejla smiles.

‘You know what?’ Sigrid fills Minoo’s glass again. ‘Time to stop this silly game. Let’s just listen to Minoo. Come on, tell us about what’s been going on here.’

Minoo looks at her and anxiety wells up inside her, pushing through the soft, cosy feeling of being wadded in cotton wool. She has promised Walter not to tell the others too much.

‘I’m not sure I want to talk about it,’ Minoo says, sipping cautiously.

She glances at Clara, who has fallen asleep.

‘Too many fucking secrets round here,’ Nejla says. She burps and adds, ‘Like this rubbish about how you’re hardly allowed to talk to Adriana.’

‘I know. And what’s this about her losing her memory. Is it true?’ Sigrid asks. ‘Does it have anything to do with that court case? Everybody was going on about the rumours last winter. What actually happened?’

‘It was so bad, I’d rather not think about it,’ Minoo says.

‘Don’t be like that, Minoo,’ Sigrid says. ‘There must be something you can tell us. Just a hint. Please.’

‘Lay off, Sigrid,’ Nejla says.

Sigrid looks annoyed but, after a quick glance at Nejla, she smiles. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s OK,’ Minoo tells her.

She twirls the glass in circles, making the liquid swirl around. She glances sideways at Sigrid, who looks thoughtful.

‘Minoo, I must say one more thing,’ she says. ‘I shouldn’t have listened in, I know, and I’m sorry, but I thought it was awful of Walter not to let you go to that court hearing.’

‘He didn’t exactly forbid me,’ Minoo says.

‘Hello, guilt trip? It was obvious that he had given you permission and then changed his mind. Am I the only one who thinks we’re driven far too hard? I mean, we never get enough sleep …’

‘Could be because we do this every night,’ Nejla says, and drains her glass.

‘… and he’s awful to Felix all the time,’ Sigrid continues. ‘It started with breaking his finger, and since then it’s been one thing after another. Like today, when Felix said we needed rest. I can’t be the only one who has noticed the way Walter treats him?’

‘No,’ Minoo says, feeling relieved that Sigrid has seen it as well.

She feels it’s easier now to admit to herself that Walter’s behaviour follows a pattern.

‘Walter has said he doesn’t have time to coddle us,’ she adds. ‘So, maybe he doesn’t realise quite how harshly he treats us.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Sigrid says. ‘But if it happens again, we really should speak up. Do you all back me on that?’

‘I can’t be bothered,’ Nejla says. ‘If Felix thinks it’s a problem, he should deal with it himself.’

The mattress bounces a little when she gets up.

‘Good night,’ she says, wandering off into the corridor.

‘What about you?’ Sigrid asks.

Minoo meets her eyes and remembers how Walter said they must all be honest.

‘Yes, I’m with you,’ she says.

Sigrid smiles, takes her hand and squeezes it gently.

‘You’re such a wonderful person, Minoo,’ she says.

She wakes Clara gently and collects the plastic glasses.

‘Sleep well,’ she says as they leave.

This time, Minoo has no trouble going to sleep.

Anna-Karin wakes and looks around the room. She is confused; the smell of the bed linen is unfamiliar, and then she remembers that she is sleeping in Minoo’s bed.

She has been dreaming about her mother. They were in the kitchen in the farmhouse. Mum’s hands were red and blistered, like that time when she had pushed her hands into boiling water. In the dream, she was reaching out for Anna-Karin, her fingers so swollen that her rings were digging into the flesh. Anna-Karin ran from her. And then she was in a corridor in the Västerås magistrates’ court. Even though she has never been there before, she knew where she was. And it was no longer her mother who was chasing her. It was Alexander.

Anna-Karin tries to go back to sleep, but it’s impossible. And then, hunger begins to obsess her.

She staggers out of bed and puts her fleece top on. When she steps out into the passage, she hears noisy snoring from Minoo’s dad. She listens outside the door to her own room, where Linnéa is sleeping. Not a sound.

She tiptoes down to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of milk. Drinks it standing by the sink. Then she takes a slice of the health bread that Minoo’s dad buys for himself. It tastes like compacted bird seed and is only edible at all with a thick layer of whey cheese.

Anna-Karin jumps when Peppar meows shrilly. She puts her snack down and looks around. He is meowing again and the sound comes from the sitting room.

‘What is it, sweetie?’

She walks in. He has leapt up on one of the sofa’s armrests and stands there, arching his back. His green eyes are fixed on something outside the window.

Anna-Karin follows Peppar’s eyes.

The garden is bathed in moonlight. A breeze stirs the branches of the maple and some of its leaves flutter to the ground.

Someone is walking towards the house.

Anna-Karin backs away from the window instinctively. Hits the sofa. Peppar hisses and arches his back even more.

Olivia stops in the middle of the lawn.

She is wearing a black parka. She looks exactly as she used to before magic ruined her.

And she keeps standing there. The wind swirls some of the leaves on the ground around her and plays in her blue hair.

Anna-Karin doesn’t know if Olivia has seen her. She sneaks out into the hall as quietly as she can and picks up the phone on the hall table. The line is dead. Is that because of Olivia?

She goes back upstairs and looks out through the window in Minoo’s room. Olivia is still there, in exactly the same position.

Anna-Karin turns her mobile on. No signal. She goes to the window and tries to stay out of Olivia’s sightline.

If she comes any closer to the house, Anna-Karin must wake Linnéa. But not until then. Linnéa needs her sleep, in order to be as sharp as possible for tomorrow.

Olivia’s eyes gleam in her pale face. She stands so still it is unnatural.

But I can wait as long as you can, Anna-Karin thinks.

When Minoo’s alarm goes off, she sits straight up in bed. Her heart is pounding, as if someone has chased her out of her sleep. Fumbling for her mobile, she drops it on the floor. She picks it up. Bending down makes her head feel as if it’s about to explode.

She silences the alarm.

It is still dark outside. She turns on the bedside lamp and screws up her eyes against the light. She has to lean against the doorframe on her way to the bathroom. It is like the worst attack of flu she has ever experienced. She bends cautiously over the tap and drinks a few mouthfuls. After all that effort, she has to sit down on the toilet lid and hold her head in her hands.

Best of all, you don’t get a hangover
.

Nejla’s assurance feels like mockery. Perhaps it was meant to be. Minoo suddenly grasps the essence of all representations of hangovers that she has read about or watched. The cotton wool she had felt padded in last night is replaced by glass fibre now.

I won’t be able to handle today, Minoo thinks. But she knows that she doesn’t have a choice.

She gets into the shower and allows the hot water to massage her body. Her headache retreats a little, only to leave space for anguish.

Last night’s scene and their talk replays in her head. It is like being forced to watch the same movie clip over and over again. An everlasting loop where she becomes more and more embarrassing each time.

How drunk was she? And how sober were the others, really?

She staggers back to her bed, then checks her mobile because she has no idea of time. Still no signal. Her text to Gustaf has not been sent.

Gustaf. She shouldn’t have told everyone about him. And what else did she say that she can’t remember?

She puts her clothes on, anxiety simmering in her mind.

Breakfast is laid on the long table in the dining room. Adriana is up and about. She is aligning the spouts on the big thermos flasks containing tea and coffee with military precision. She is wearing a green dress in a 1960s style. Minoo recognises it from her time as school principal. Adriana wore it when the Chosen Ones had been called to her office so that she could tell them who she really was. And who
the
y really were.

Next to the bread basket, she has provided a few dishes with sliced cheese. The slices look dried at the edges. There is another plate with rows of sliced cucumber and tomato. Sometimes, Minoo suspects that the Council regards food as something too worldly to be of any interest whatever.

Sigrid, Felix and Nejla are seated at the table already and tucking into breakfast. Sigrid looks up and, as usual, seems alert and neat. Minoo wonders if she really feels that fresh, or if she’s even better at doing her make-up than Minoo imagined.

‘Hi!’ Sigrid says. ‘Did you sleep well?’

Nejla turns to Minoo. ‘Are you even awake?’ she says with her mouth full of cheese sandwich.

She is wearing the same T-shirt as she was last night.

Felix looks curiously at Minoo, who tries to look away. Unfortunately, it makes her focus on the lynx. It is gnawing on a skinned hare carcass, placed on a newspaper on the floor.

She pours herself a cup of coffee and fixes herself a cheese sandwich for show. She has no desire to eat it. Or anything else.

‘Good morning.’

It’s Viktor.

The memory of the Ken doll makes Minoo splash coffee on the tablecloth. She can hardly look at Viktor when he comes to the table, followed by Clara.

She moans inwardly. Clara heard all that and even had to ask them to stop.

‘You’re not a morning person, are you?’ Viktor sounds amused as he looks at Minoo.

‘I guess not.’

Minoo sips at her coffee, drinking it in tiny mouthfuls. At least she doesn’t feel sick. Or, at least, as long as she can ignore the squelching noises from the lynx’s corner.

Minoo glances surreptitiously at Clara. She is pale and very quiet, but that’s how she is most of the time.