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Tage tugged at his beard. – She probably called in there on her way to the TV studio. We were sitting down and all ready to watch, but when the programme started, she wasn’t there. And that arsehole was cracking jokes at her expense. That she didn’t have the guts to turn up and other disgraceful comments like that.

– And she hasn’t been seen since?

Liss heard her mother getting up from the sofa in the living room. She joined them in the kitchen.

– You’ve had a bite to eat, I see, she said listlessly, resting a hand on Liss’s shoulder. – I’m just going for a little lie-down.

She disappeared again and went up the stairs.

Tage watched her. – I don’t know if she’ll be able to take it if something really has happened.

Really has happened, Liss almost interrupted. Four days had passed since anyone had seen Mailin. She controlled herself, poked at her spaghetti, chewed at a half-mouthful of the meat sauce. It tasted of nothing. Had to be at least twenty-four hours since she’d last eaten, but she didn’t feel even remotely hungry. Emptied the glass of beer.

– The police?

Tage refilled her glass. – They’ve questioned us about everything under the sun. If she was depressed, if she’s ever gone missing before, all that. About her relationship with Viljam.

– What do you think about that?

He scratched his liver-spotted crown with a finger. – What can one say? Anything might have happened… Dear Liss, we’re terrified. I’m sure you are too.

Terrified? Was that what she was? She went in and out of mental states. Mostly she felt remote. Now and then as though she was being torn to pieces. Then suddenly relieved: everything would come to an end. And then again the suffocating blackness that paralysed her. She’d killed someone. In her jacket pocket was a photo of Mailin. She could throw it down on the table in front of Tage: take me to the police station. Lock me up. But I can’t face the thought of talking about it.

He patted her gently on the arm. – Of course the police are investigating everything that might possibly be significant. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. People who live together quarrel and… He replaced the rest of the sentence with a cough. – Incidentally, have you met Viljam?

She shook her head. – Spoke to him on the phone three days ago, that’s all.

Mailin had never said much about this Viljam, but then she never did when it came to boyfriends, and Liss hadn’t particularly wanted to hear about him anyway. She remembered the message she’d received: Keep Midsummer’s Day free next year.

– He’s a law student, isn’t he?

– Correct. They’ve been a couple for over two years now. He seems a likeable young man to me. As far as Ragnhild is concerned, he isn’t right for Mailin, but then you know…

He inclined his head towards the door his wife had just left through.

– Ragnhild implies that she gets these odd vibrations from him. She can’t quite make him out.

Liss could feel the old irritation beginning to stir. In her mother’s eyes, none of Mailin’s boyfriends had ever been good enough for her. She always gave the impression that her daughters should feel free to choose whoever they liked, and at the same time she left them in no doubt as to what they ought to do. Usually she didn’t give up until things went her way.

– Do the police think this guy Viljam might have… done something?

Tage thought it over. – They interviewed him twice. But he was at work with a group of other students the whole of the afternoon when Mailin disappeared. I picked him up there, he came out here to watch the broadcast with us. The plan was for Mailin to join us afterwards. Viljam and I were out looking for her all night. In the morning we went out to the cabin to have a look there too. He seems as crushed as we are.

– Why did you go out to the cabin? Didn’t you say her car was in town?

– We didn’t know what to do. Just knew we had to try everything.

– Might she have gone off somewhere?

She could hear herself how thin it sounded, but she had to ask in order to endure being there at all, to keep a grip on the conversation, not get sucked down and dragged away… Of course Mailin hadn’t gone off anywhere without leaving a message. She wasn’t the type to let people worry on her account. Liss might have just taken off. But Mailin always wanted people to know exactly where they were with her.

– We’ve asked ourselves every imaginable sort of question, Tage said in that slow way of his that perhaps expressed a kind of calm. – But where could she have gone, and why? Ragnhild even called Canada, to ask your father if Mailin had turned up there. An absurd notion, but as long as there was a theoretical possibility…

Ragnhild had called her father. Liss knew that they hadn’t spoken for years. Fifteen, maybe, nearer twenty.

– What did he say? she wanted to know.

– She couldn’t get hold of him. He’s probably off travelling somewhere. Tage said this in a voice devoid of hidden insinuations. He had always been smart enough never to say anything implicitly critical of their father.

Suddenly Liss felt herself drained of energy.

She lay down in the room that had once been Mailin’s, in her bed. Too exhausted to sleep, her pulse hammering in her throat. She hadn’t spent the night in this house since leaving secondary school. Had to get up and walk, pacing over and over again the few steps between the door and the window. Switched on the light, sat down at the desk and froze. The photos were still up on the shelf above the table. One of Mailin in her graduation party outfit. The fair hair, the bright eyes that were so like her mother’s, but seemed happier. Another picture of Mailin and herself. She was probably about eight, which would make Mailin twelve. They’re standing on the rock outside the cabin, the one they used to dive into Morr Water from, Liss flailing her arms. It looks as if she’s about to fall. Mailin is holding on to her.

She took the photo down, studied every detail. The spruce next to the rock. The way the light created an ellipse in the water far behind them. And Mailin’s anxious face. What’s to become of you, Liss?

She couldn’t remember the picture being taken, but she could feel what it was like to stand teetering there, falling, and being held. – I’ll never be closer to anyone than you, she murmured. – Must find you, Mailin.

4

Tuesday 16 December

SHE TOOK THE metro from Jernbanetorget. A copy of Dagbladet was wedged down the inside of her seat. It was a couple of days old. A story low down on page eight: Woman (29) missing in Oslo. Not been seen since last Thursday, she read. The police do not yet know whether there are any suspicious circumstances. Seven lines, no name, no picture.

She flipped through it. Six months ago, she had been written up in Dagbladet’s magazine. She had been in an advert that was shown in cinemas in Holland. No idea how Dagbladet had managed to get hold of her. A journalist and a photographer turned up outside the flat in Marnixkaade. Zako claimed that he was the one who had tipped them off. They wanted to do a story. Young Norwegian girl on the verge of a career in modelling. They twisted things around, blew things up, created a picture of a non-existent her. Isn’t it a tough life for a girl in this business, with all the focus on your appearance? And then the standard question. What do you think about all the anorexia, the drugs, the instant disposability? The journalist wanted to combine a touch of glamour with a frisson of politically correct scepticism. You have to know what you yourself want, Liss had answered. You have to take control and make sure you don’t hand it over to anyone. What are your views on women as objects of the male gaze? She started to tire of the interview. I’ve got nothing against being an object, she said, and realised that she meant it. She could have expanded on her answer, refined it, made it acceptable, but couldn’t be bothered. On the contrary, she allowed herself to be lured into making pithy remarks that made her seem interesting. The result was presented as an example of the way the new generation of women thought. They skimmed the cream off what their mothers had fought to achieve, used it when it suited them. Enjoyed life, and themselves. Mailin called and congratulated her on the interview, even though she was sceptical about the message. Liss never heard a word from her mother.