‘Unless there’s some sort of miracle, the doctors say she might have only six months left.’
‘Six months of treatment?’
Slowly Martin raised his head and looked his colleague in the eye. The naked pain in his expression almost made Patrik recoil.
‘Six months until she dies. Then Tuva won’t have a mother any more.’
‘What… How… When did you…?’ Patrik heard himself stammering, but he simply couldn’t find anything sensible to say.
And Martin didn’t reply. Instead, he laid his head on the table and began sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. Patrik got up and went over to put his arms around him. He had no idea how much time passed, but finally Martin stopped crying, and his body relaxed.
‘Where’s Tuva?’ asked Patrik, still holding Martin.
‘With Pia’s mother. I can’t… not right now.’ He started to cry again, the tears running silently down his cheeks.
Patrik stroked his back. ‘It’s okay, just let it all out.’
What a cliché that was, and he felt a bit foolish, but what else was there to say in a situation like this? Was there any right or wrong thing to say? His words really didn’t matter, and it was unclear whether Martin was even listening.
‘Have you eaten?’
Martin sniffled, wiped his nose on the sleeve of his bathrobe, and then shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘That doesn’t matter. You have to eat.’ Patrik went over to the fridge to see what he could find. There was plenty of food, but he could tell it wasn’t the right time to cook a proper meal, so he merely took out some butter and cheese. Then he toasted a few slices of French bread that he found in the freezer and made two open-face sandwiches. He thought that was about all Martin could handle at the moment. Then he made another sandwich for himself. He figured it would be easier for Martin to eat if he had company.
‘Now tell me all about it,’ he said after Martin had finished the first sandwich and a little colour had returned to his face.
Haltingly Martin told Patrik all that he knew about Pia’s cancer and the shock they’d had. One day everything was fine, and then only a few days later they found out that she had to be admitted to the hospital and undergo a rigorous course of treatments that might not help her.
‘When does she get to come home?’
‘Next week, I think. I’m not really sure. I haven’t…’ Martin’s hand shook as he lifted his sandwich. He looked ashamed.
‘You haven’t talked to them? Have you gone to see Pia since she was admitted?’ Patrik was doing his best not to sound reproachful. That was the last thing Martin needed right now, and in a strange way he could understand his colleague’s reaction. He’d seen enough people in shock to recognize that vacant stare and the wooden movements.
‘I’m going to make some tea,’ he said before Martin could reply. ‘Or would you rather have coffee?’
‘Coffee,’ said Martin. He was chewing and chewing, and it seemed he was having a hard time swallowing.
Patrik filled a glass with water. ‘Here. Drink some water to wash it down. The coffee will be ready in a few minutes.’
‘I haven’t gone to see her,’ said Martin, as he finished chewing.
‘That’s not so strange. You’re in shock,’ said Patrik as he measured coffee grounds into the filter.
‘I’ve failed her. She needs me so much right now, but I’ve failed her. And Tuva. I couldn’t take her over to Pia’s mother fast enough. As if this isn’t hard for her too. Pia is her daughter, after all.’ He seemed on the verge of tears again, but he took a deep breath and then made an effort to calm his breathing. ‘I’ve no idea where Pia gets her strength. She’s phoned me several times, and she’s worried about me. How crazy is that? She’s getting radiation and chemotherapy and who knows what the hell else. She must be scared to death and feeling really sick. But she’s worried about me!’
‘That’s not so strange either,’ said Patrik. ‘Now here’s what we’ll do. You go take a shower and shave, and when you’re done with that, the coffee will be ready.’
‘No, I…’ Martin began, but Patrik held up his hand.
‘Either you take a shower this minute, or I’m going to drag you in there and scrub you myself. That’s not something I’d particularly like to do, so I’m hoping you’ll take care of it on your own.’
Martin couldn’t help laughing. ‘You’re not getting anywhere near me with a towel. I’ll do it myself.’
‘Good,’ said Patrik and turned around to hunt for coffee mugs in the cupboards. He heard Martin get up and go off to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later he was a new man when he came back into the kitchen.
‘Now you’re starting to look like yourself,’ said Patrik, pouring steaming hot coffee into his mug.
‘I feel better. Thanks,’ said Martin, sitting down. His face was still haggard and pale, but there was more life in his green eyes. His damp red hair was sticking straight up. He resembled an older version of Kalle Blomkvist from Astrid Lindgren’s stories.
‘I have a suggestion,’ said Patrik, who’d been thinking about things while Martin was in the shower. ‘You need to spend as much time as you can supporting Pia. And you also need to take over responsibility for Tuva. So why don’t you take a holiday, starting now, and then we’ll see how things go and how much more time you might require.’
‘I only have three weeks of holiday left.’
‘We’ll work it out,’ said Patrik. ‘Never mind about the practical details right now.’
Martin gave him a dazed look and nodded. Patrik was suddenly reminded of Erica and the car accident she’d been involved in. It could have been him sitting here. He had come so close to losing everything.
She’d been lying in bed thinking all night long. After Patrik left for work, she had sat on the veranda, gathering her thoughts in peace and quiet. For once the children were playing on their own. She loved the view of the Fjällbacka archipelago, and she was so grateful that she’d managed to save this house where she and Anna had grown up. Now her own children could grow up here too. It was not an easy house to take care of. The wind and salt water took their toll on the wooden siding, and the place needed constant repairs and upkeep.
At the moment they didn’t have any major financial problems. It had taken years of hard work, but these days she brought in a good income from her books. She hadn’t particularly changed her routine, but it was nice to know that she didn’t have to worry about breaking the household budget if she needed a new saucepan or they had to renovate the house.
She was well aware that there were many who did not enjoy the same sort of security. When there was never enough money or redundancy took its toll, it was easy to look for a scapegoat. That accounted, at least in part, for the success of the Friends of Sweden. Ever since her meeting with John Holm, Erica couldn’t stop thinking about him and what he stood for. She had hoped he would be an unpleasant man who was a blatant manifestation of his offensive views. Instead she’d found something much more dangerous. An articulate person who invited trust and was able to provide simple answers. Someone who could help the voters identify a scapegoat and then promise to make it disappear.
Erica shivered. She was convinced that Holm was hiding something. It remained to be seen whether there was any connection to what happened on Valö, but she knew who she would talk to next.
‘Kids, we’re going for a ride!’ she yelled, turning towards the living room. Her words prompted cheers from her children, who loved car rides.
‘Mamma just has to make one phone call. Maja, put on your shoes, and then I’ll come and help Anton and Noel.’
‘I can help them,’ said Maja, taking her brothers by the hand and pulling them out to the front hall. Erica smiled. Maja was becoming more and more like a little mother with each day that passed.