‘I have told you the truth. I hid myself away here in order to think things over.’
Fear was being batted back and forth between them, like the ebb and flow of never-ending waves. Occasionally he would glance up at the path. He knew his time was limited, and that sooner or later Sara Fredrika would wonder where he had got to.
‘I want you to go back home,’ he said. ‘I’ve been ordered to terminate my mission.’
‘But you haven’t got a mission. I heard the admiral say so himself: you are no longer a member of the Swedish Navy, you have no unfinished missions. I heard that with my own ears. Are you incapable of telling the truth?’
‘You must understand that secrecy doesn’t only apply to me. He wasn’t able to say that I am still working on a task.’
‘What are you doing on this skerry? I’ve been sailing all round these grey, barren islands, I’ve hardly set eyes on a single soul, here by the open sea everything is dead.’
‘I’ll tell you, even though I shouldn’t. I have a wireless transmitter here, one of the inspired inventions of the engineer Marconi and Admiral Henry Jackson, for communications between ships and land, or from one ship’s captain to another. We are conducting top-secret tests of a Swedish system, a variation of the ones the warring parties are using.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Invisible waves that travel through the air, that can be captured and interpreted. A secret language that will transform all aspects of war as it has been known until now. Every day at certain times I have to be stationed by the wireless in order to receive and transmit.’
She considered what he had said.
‘Perhaps that is true,’ she said. ‘Show me round this island that you have made your home, show me these invisible waves that are dancing around in the air here. Show me something that is true. Show me where you live, in a cave or a hut.’
‘You are right,’ he said. ‘One hut to live in, and another for my measuring equipment. I’ll show you.’
He racked his brains for a way out of this desperate situation. It was becoming clearer to him where he really belonged. It was on Halsskär with Sara Fredrika and Laura, that was where he was at home. For the first time in his life there was something he did not want to lose. He was a stranger to Kristina Tacker and her china figurines, in the cold and warm rooms in Stockholm. All the years he had lived with her had ceased to exist. That was the biggest lie, he thought, I could never understand or control that. We had nothing in common, we just came together in a fantasy of love.
But not even that is true, he thought. I can only speak for myself. She must have felt something different. She has come here, not merely to expose a lie, but also to understand how she could have given me so much love.
She aimed her light at a cold cliff face. It never became warm. I tried to tame her all the years we lived together.
I failed. She stayed wild. The china figurines deceived me. She had more sides to her than I had ever suspected. Hidden behind her calm, almost apathetic exterior was something else.
He recalled the Christmas market when she had intervened to stop a man hitting his child. He had not drawn the right conclusions from that. He ought to have realised even then that she was in fact a stronger individual than he was.
Chapter 188
It was starting to get dark. They were freezing cold. He heard footsteps on the path. Sara Fredrika emerged from the hawthorn bushes.
He wondered if she’d been waiting there, just as he used to hover out of sight.
Sara Fredrika gave a start and stopped dead.
‘Who’s she?’
He did not answer. His first reaction was to head for the water. He could hijack the sailing boat and then vanish, straight out to sea, or to the south, to one of the German ports around Kiel, where he could seek asylum.
Sara Fredrika was approaching now, and asked again who the woman at his side was.
‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Don’t know?’ Kristina Tacker said. ‘Don’t you even know who I am any more? Who’s she? What do you get up to here? Do you ever say anything that’s true?’
Sara Fredrika took hold of him.
‘Who is she?’
He could not answer. He was trapped. He did not have his sounding lead with him.
Both women showered him with questions, who was this woman who had come from the sea, who was this woman clinging on to his arm? He said nothing, the trap had been sprung, it would soon be over and he had no idea how it would end.
Sara Fredrika and Kristina Tacker did all the talking. But he was the one they were staring at, as Kristina Tacker grew more and more outraged and Sara Fredrika more and more desperate. The cat appeared from out of nowhere, it seemed to sense that a trial of strength was taking place and was waiting to witness the outcome. He tried once again to find a way out, to identify a weakness in what he was faced with. But all he could feel was weariness and an urge to give up.
Somewhere in the rocks round about him was his father’s face, his eyes would soon be liberated.
The stone hands were hovering over his head.
In the end, he told the truth: that was the only possibility left.
‘Her name’s Kristina. She’s my wife. I’m married to her.’
‘But you said your wife was dead? And your child?’
Kristina Tacker took a pace forward.
‘He said that I was dead?’
‘Who are you?’
‘I am his wife.’
‘But that’s impossible. His wife fell over a cliff. And the child was dragged down as well.’
‘Well, he lied to you, whoever you are! I’m alive and I am married to him.’
Kristina Tacker screamed and set off running along the path. She disappeared from view, but her screams bounced back and forth off the rocks.
‘Who is she?’ asked Sara Fredrika again.
‘She’s telling the truth. I am married to her, I have not yet concluded the divorce proceedings.’
‘But you said she’d fallen over a cliff, and your daughter as well?’
‘That was my first wife. I haven’t told you everything about my life. I work on top-secret missions, and it’s infectious, I end up by being top secret even to myself.’
She backed away from him, he could see that she was frightened.
‘What’s she doing here?’
‘I don’t know. She came here in the sailing dinghy.’
Kristina Tacker came back. He tried to embrace her and calm her down, but she avoided his grasp.
‘I don’t want you to touch me, never again.’
She turned her back on him and started talking to Sara Fredrika. ‘Who are you?’
‘I live here with him.’
‘With him?’
‘Yes, I just said so. What’s it got to do with you? It’s my life, not yours.’
‘But I’m the one who’s married to him. Can’t you hear what I’m saying?’
‘He’s not married. He lives here with me, and he’s going to take me away to a new country. I want you to leave here.’
Another voice joined in the argument, from the far distance, a baby crying. It was clearly audible in the silence. Kristina Tacker looked round wildly before she grasped the truth. She started shaking and then she collapsed.
‘It’s my baby,’ Sara Fredrika said. ‘My daughter. She’s called Laura.’
Kristina Tacker started whimpering and crawled away, trying to force her way into the thorn bushes.
‘Is she out of her mind? She’ll cut herself to pieces on the thorns.’
‘She’s ill,’ he said. ‘She’s very ill. She needs help.’
He tried to pull Sara Fredrika away, but she beat him off with enormous strength.