Then she returned to the terraced houses. She walked quickly because she did not want to talk to anyone or explain herself. She went back inside, closed the door behind her and left the catalogues on the table. I will look at them, she thought, but not right now. I need something to eat. I need a cup of tea. And then I need to rest because it’s a big decision. I need to be calm and rested, not flustered and distressed. She went into the kitchen and found a loaf in the bread bin, some butter and jam in the fridge. He came home, she thought, just as I had given up hope. I suppose I should be pleased about that because it’s much more than I had last winter. Then I had only words and suggestions from people I’d never met, and no one would take the blame for anything. What had they done apart from opening their door to him? She did not think that anyone had hurt him. Why would they? He was not aggressive. She leaned over the kitchen counter with her thoughts. She could not comprehend why she had lost him, why he had been found floating in Glitter Lake.
She made a jam sandwich and a cup of tea and carried them into the living room. There she ate her modest meal, never once taking her eyes off the catalogues. I’ll go through them, she thought, but first I need to rest. I’m so tired. I’m exhausted. She pulled a blanket over herself and curled up on the sofa where she dozed. Music, she thought. Flowers. Kim in a box on the floor. They called it a coffin and it was decorated both inside and out, almost like a nest with lining and ruches, but it was still just a box. She placed a hand on her heart. It beat softly under her blouse as though nothing had happened, unaffected by the violent pain she felt in this precise muscle.
She lay very still for an hour. She kept wanting to get up and do something, but she could not summon the energy. She listened to the sounds from outside, people coming and going in the street. Out there people were busy, as always, it was only her world which had been shattered. I could die now, she thought, and no one would find me. I could lie here for weeks until someone noticed a smell outside my front door. The thought of this made her leap up. I need to pull myself together, she thought, I have things to arrange for Kim, I can’t lie here doing nothing. She folded the blanket and took the first catalogue from the pile. Feeling nervous, she sat down and started going through it. She ticked the headstones she liked the best, but no matter what they looked like, they were terribly expensive. She had no idea they would cost so much. But then again someone had spent time chipping, carving and polishing. It was craftsmanship; of course it cost money.
She put down the catalogue and picked up another. She realised she was looking for something she would never find. She wanted something simple; they were simple people. But she also wanted the stone to stand out from the others in the cemetery because there was only one Kim. She reclined and closed her eyes, but her whole body was tense. She leaned forward to get a new catalogue. There was only one coffin she liked. It was mahogany and way beyond her means. She kept staring at the picture. She liked the dark wood. She was upset that she could not afford it. Again she put the catalogue aside. Another thought had distracted her. She had to find some pall-bearers, some boys from his class, perhaps. She would have to talk to Kim’s teacher, he would probably organise it for her if she asked him nicely. They had never wanted to be with him when he was alive, but now they would have to do him a final favour whether they wanted to or not, she decided.
Afterwards she probably ought to hold a small wake. But where? She didn’t have enough room here. She would have to organise some refreshments too, and she would have to take the young people into consideration; after all they don’t eat just anything, she thought. What will he wear, she wondered? This question unsettled her because it was important, and she had not given it a single thought. She did not want him in a white shroud. Kim would have hated that, but nor did he own a dark suit. So she would have to buy one. She knew his size; he was her son. A dark suit and a snow white shirt. Stylish, elegant and dignified. Then a dreadful thought struck her. It had lain dormant inside her for a long time, but she had pushed it aside. Kim had been in the water for many months. It would quite simply be impossible to dress him.
CHAPTER 26
Reilly had been well prepared, but now all his preparations went out of the window.
‘You’ve found that Vietnamese guy,’ he said. ‘I suppose that’s why you’re here?’
‘Correct,’ Sejer said. ‘We’ve found him.’
Reilly tried to arrange his gangly body, but it was not until he picked up the kitten that he settled down. He had anticipated a barrage of questions, but they just watched him in silence.
‘I expect you’ve read the statement I gave last winter, and now you want me to repeat that and it’s fine, I suppose, you have certain procedures and I understand that. The problem is that statement still stands. I presume that you’ve read it.’
He had to draw breath. He picked nervously at his corduroy trousers. They were slightly too big for him and shone with wear across the knees.
‘No,’ Sejer said. ‘We haven’t read it.’
This white lie baffled Reilly. ‘You haven’t?’
‘I don’t like to be prejudiced,’ Sejer said. ‘I prefer to draw my own conclusions. And Skarre wants to make his own notes.’
Reilly was not entirely sure if he was being serious. He started pacing up and down with the kitten in his arms. It dug its claws into his jumper, terrified of falling from a great height. What do they want from me? he thought, as he wandered around. How do you act if you’ve got nothing to hide? You sit down, look them in the eye. You smile a friendly and open smile. But he could not manage a smile, and he did have something to hide.
‘How did he die?’ he asked.
The two police officers were sitting down on the sofa. He noticed that Skarre had started making notes.
‘It’s difficult to establish the cause of death after such a long time,’ Sejer said. ‘And it’s especially difficult when the body is found in water. We found him in Glitter Lake.’
Reilly started talking again even though Axel had advised him not to. Just answer their questions, he had said, otherwise keep your mouth shut. Your head’s never straight, either, don’t get yourself into trouble.
‘We were only trying to help,’ he said. ‘No one else in Skjæret would take responsibility for him. Irene was dead set on getting rid of him. She was adamant that no one was allowed to stay the night, and that girl is a bit of a bitch. She had even locked the door to her bedroom. But if a poor little guy like him had slept in a corner, what harm would it have done? Not that I’m blaming Irene,’ he said quickly. ‘That’s not how I meant it.
‘It wasn’t easy to get him out of the flat either,’ he carried on. ‘It was like trying to get jelly to walk.’
‘What time was it when you got to Nattmål?’ Sejer asked.
‘It must have been close to three-thirty because we left the party at three,’ Reilly said, ‘and we drove straight there. But it was snowing, so we drove slowly. Axel takes no chances with his Mercedes, he’s terrified of denting it. It’s quite an expensive model,’ he added, ‘with leather seats and all sorts of gadgets.’
‘Now that he has been found dead,’ Sejer said, ‘what are your thoughts? Do you feel guilty?’
Reilly straightened up and glared down at them.
‘Do I feel guilty?’
Frustrated, he tossed his long hair. The kitten was startled by the sudden movement.
‘Of course I feel guilty. I feel guilty that we didn’t walk him to his front door. Perhaps we should have helped him unlock it, and perhaps we should have put him to bed too. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’