The man shook his head and accelerated. He was certain he’d seen something in the darkness, something white which seemed to fly through the air. He scanned the sides of the road as he drove slowly up it, but the headlights left the mountain landscape around him in complete darkness. It must have been something he’d imagined. A sheep perhaps. They probably weren’t grazing up here anymore, but perhaps there were birds up here, and foxes and hares. There were lots of explanations. It had taken him a little by surprise as he’d just bent forward to stub out his cigarette. But it was odd about the car. Unless there’d been someone staying in that small cabin after all. He hadn’t got time to think about it any more. There were many things that had to be cleared up. He was going to get the money. It was his now, and no one should think otherwise. He accelerated and turned on to the road. There he changed up into third and shortly afterward passed the tourist hostel on the left. Then his lights vanished around a bend.
27
The blobs of foam were like the mountains of Hardanger and the water was boiling hot. Eva dipped one foot in cautiously, it was almost scalded, but the bath couldn’t be hot enough. She would have liked the water inside her body too, inside her veins. On the edge of the tub was a large glass of red wine. She’d thrown the day sack into the rubbish bin and unplugged the phone. Now, she sank into the water, which had turned a pale turquoise color from the bath salts. Heaven couldn’t be better than this. As they thawed, she stretched her fingers and toes. She took a sip of wine and felt the pain in her foot recede a little. Driving had been a nightmare, as her ankle had swollen considerably. She pinched her nose and submerged completely for a moment. When she surfaced again she had a large dot of foam on the top of her head. That’s the picture of a millionaire, she thought with surprise, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror above the bath. The soft blob began to teeter sideways, then slide down to hang beneath her ear. She settled in the water again and did some mental arithmetic. She tried to work out how long the money would last if she used two hundred thousand per year. Well, it would be around ten years. If there really was two million there, she hadn’t counted it yet, but she would once she’d bathed and cleaned up and had some food. The only thing she’d found on the way home was a sweet dispenser that contained nothing but raspberry drops and throat lozenges. She closed her eyes and heard how the foam rustled in her ear as it disintegrated. Her skin was beginning to accustom itself to the temperature; afterward she’d be wrinkled and pink from the hot soapy water, like a baby. It had been a long time since she’d taken a bath. She usually made do with a quick shower, and she’d forgotten just how good it was. Emma was the one who always liked a bath.
She reached out for her wine glass and took several large sips. Afterward, when she’d bathed and counted the money, she would sleep, perhaps right through until it was evening again. The tiredness lay across her eyes like a lump of lead. Now it pulled her head forward until her chin rested on her chest. The last thing she knew was the taste of soap in her mouth.
It was nine o’clock on the morning of October 3. Eva slept on in the cold bath water. She was in the middle of a disturbing dream. As she squirmed in the water to escape it, she slipped forward a little in the bath. Her face submerged. She gasped and inhaled soapy water, coughed and spluttered, attempted to sit up, but the sides of the ceramic tub were slippery; she slid down again, spat and dribbled until the tears flowed, before she finally managed to get herself into a sitting position. She was cold again. Then she heard the doorbell.
Alarmed, she got up and stepped out of the bath. She’d forgotten her injured foot and yelped, staggered a bit because she’d risen so quickly and reached for her dressing gown. Her watch was on the shelf under the mirror, she looked at it quickly and wondered who it could possibly be at this time of day. It was too early for salesmen and beggars, her father didn’t go out, and Emma hadn’t given notice of her arrival. The police! she thought, and tied the belt of the dressing gown. She hadn’t prepared herself, hadn’t had time to think about what she’d say if he actually came again, and now he was here, she was quite certain it was him. That inspector with the searching glance. Of course, she didn’t have to open the door. She was the mistress of her own house, she was in the middle of a bath, and it was an ungodly hour to come asking questions. She only had to remain in the bathroom until he went. He would think she hadn’t got up yet, or perhaps that she’d gone away. Except that the car was outside, but she might have taken the bus, as she sometimes did when she had no money for petrol. What did he want now? At least he knew nothing about Maja’s money, unless she’d left a will which he’d found, perhaps that was precisely what she had done, left all her money to the Women’s Refuge! The thought made her reel. Of course she could. She hadn’t put her money in a safe-deposit box, she had put her will in there instead, a small red book containing the truth about her life. The doorbell rang again. Eva came to a swift decision. There was little point in hiding in the bathroom, he wasn’t going to give up. She made a turban out of her towel, went out into the hall in her bare feet, limping and gasping at each step.
“Mrs. Magnus,” he said smiling, “I’m disturbing you in the middle of your bath, it’s unforgivable of me. I should have come later.”
“I’ve finished anyway,” she answered tersely, standing on the doorstep. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans and looked like a normal man, not like the enemy at all, she thought. The man by the lake was the enemy, whoever he might be. Perhaps he’d taken the number of her car. She almost had a fit at the thought of it. If so, it wouldn’t be long before he turned up at her door. She hadn’t considered that. A deep furrow appeared in her brow.
“May I come in for a moment?”
She said nothing, just backed against the wall and nodded. In the living room she nodded again at the sofa; she just stood there, stood there like a wall of resistance, he thought, as he seated himself with a studied calm on her black sofa. His trained eye made an almost imperceptible sweep of the black and white room, he noted the bag of raspberry drops on the table, the car keys, her handbag, open, a packet of cigarettes.