‘Yep.’
‘Who were you talking to? Mia asked curiously.
‘My family solicitor.’
‘Problem?’
‘I have to go to see him now. I’ll meet you at the office.’
Holger Munch slipped his mobile into the pocket of his duffel coat and held the door open for his two colleagues.
Chapter 24
As Lukas rode his bicycle, he felt the lovely spring air on his face. He was in high spirits today; he had risen early, carried out his chores, morning prayer and housework. It was his responsibility to keep the chapel nice and tidy, an important job which he valued. To describe morning prayer as a chore was wrong. Morning prayer was a joy; sometimes, he would even start praying the moment he woke up while he was still in bed, even though he really ought to get dressed and have his breakfast first. But he just couldn’t help himself. It felt so right. Talking to God. For that to be his first activity as soon as he had opened his eyes. He started every prayer by expressing gratitude. He thanked God for taking care of his nearest and dearest. For Pastor Simon. For everyone up in the forest. Occasionally, he wondered if he ought to have included his former families in his thanks but, to be honest, he could no longer remember their faces. His birth family, who had given him up, his foster family, who hadn’t cared about him all that much, he was not angry with any of them – why on earth would he be angry? Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do. It was a no-brainer as far Lukas was concerned. If he had not grown up the way he had, he would never have ended up at the campsite in Sørlandet, never had the chance to be completely happy in union with God and Pastor Simon. Lukas grinned from ear to ear and trod harder on the pedals. Why would he be dissatisfied with anything? He had no cause. Life was wonderful. Perfect. He chuckled to himself and whispered a short prayer. A thank you. Thank you, God, for the birds in the trees and this fine road. Thank you, God, for spring and all the other seasons. Thank you, God, for making me important, for finding Pastor Simon for me, because I wake up and fall asleep every day with joy in my heart. He said the latter out loud as he felt the warmth and the light course through his blood. A car passed him on Maridalsveien, a little too close, one of those godless wretches with no sense of direction in their lives and always in a hurry. Lukas was nearly knocked off his bike, but he decided not to get upset about it. It was a long time since he had wasted his energy on the heathens. On low-caste people. There was no reason for it. At first, he had felt sorry for them because they were not as lucky as he was, but that had stopped. Everyone was free to choose their own path in life. The key to happiness lies in your own hands; it’s a matter of realizing it, as Pastor Simon always said. It was one of Lukas’s favourite quotes; he could never get enough of listening to the pastor on the pulpit. No one can hurt you unless you let them. You should always do whatever you think you can’t. Grief is a plant that cannot live without being watered; it is up to you to decide whether or not it lives. Lukas smiled to himself again. The pastor had many more sayings like it. He was in direct contact with God, Lukas could bear witness to that himself; it was not nonsense. He had seen it happen several times. He had seen God in the room. Thank you, God, for purifying me. Thank you, God, for the beautiful wildflowers along the road. Thank you, God, for the whisperers. Thank you, God, for the shouters. Thank you, God, for making my life complete.
Lukas got off his bicycle, kicked out the stand and sat down on a rock. They met in various places, and this layby was one of them. Not that they had met many times; this was perhaps the eighth time, was it? The woman came by car. The last time had been some weeks ago. Normally, she would turn up, open the window, hand him the envelope and drive off without saying anything. However, the last time had been different: she had got out of the car, lit a cigarette and chatted to him briefly, not about anything important, just about the weather and things like that. He did not know how old she was – thirty-five or thereabouts – she was always quite well dressed, with ankle boots and a coat or a smart jacket, and she wore bright-red lipstick and had a lovely smile. She had long, dark hair and a straight nose, and she always wore sunglasses, whatever the weather. The woman was clearly not one of the initiated, Lukas had no doubt about that. You could tell from the way she dressed. Lipstick and ankle boots and sunglasses, and even cigarettes. In the Bible, she would have been a whore, but it was exactly as Pastor Simon had said: Sometimes the path to the light goes through silent darkness. He felt that he and the woman balanced each other out, with her on one side, he on the other. Both messengers. Brought together by God, for God. He got up and stretched his arms, kicked a pebble on the ground into the bushes. Hummed a little to himself. He had started doing that recently; he didn’t sing out loud, just quietly to himself, a melodious chant. M-m-m-m-m. He looked up at the sun, which had just come out. Saw a squirrel jump from one tree to another. Thank you, God, for the squirrels and the other animals with which you have blessed us. Lukas would turn twenty-seven this autumn, but inside he felt much younger. It was as if time did not exist. He had no age. God had no age. Time had no beginning and no end. That was for amateurs. People who used watches and telephones, and who were always in such a rush to get ahead. Eternity has already begun. He clearly remembered the first time Pastor Simon had said it; it was the third day of the Sørlandet camp after he had been saved and found God. Eternity has already begun. He carried on humming and looked up at the trees again. A nuthatch was fluffing up its feathers. Further in, he could hear a woodpecker hammering away. Last Saturday, he had seen an owl up at the house in the forest. Lux Domus. Many people did not like owls, they regarded them as birds of ill omen, but Lukas knew better. The weekend had been just as rewarding as he had expected, perhaps even better. Nils had done a good job in the forest. It really had become a paradise.
A car pulled up and stopped a short distance from him. It was not the same car as the last time, but it was her, he recognized her through the windscreen. Her long, dark hair, scraped back into a ponytail, lipstick, but no sunglasses this time. It looked as if she had no intention of getting out of the car today; she simply summoned him, opened the window and stuck out the envelope. She scouted around a little nervously, as if something was wrong. As if she was in a hurry and just wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Lukas held out his hand for the envelope and, at that moment, she turned to him and glanced at him briefly before turning away again.
Lukas’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes were two different colours. One was brown. The other blue. Lukas had never seen anything like it in his whole life. He stood frozen, holding the envelope, unable to utter a single word and, for the first time in a very, very long time, he felt a kind of terror creep over him, drops of something dark in his happy blood. The woman with the different coloured eyes closed the window and rejoined the traffic on Maridalsveien; soon she was gone again, just as quickly as she had appeared.
Chapter 25
Mia Krüger hauled the large cardboard box into the office and closed the door behind her. The usually busy offices were quiet: no one was there; she had lost Anette along the way – she had to help her daughter with something and would come back later. Mia had said that there was no need, she was happy to go through the items on her own. Anette had reeked of guilt, like everyone who is torn between the demands of family and work, but Mia had reassured her that it was not a problem. She had promised to call her if she found anything important. The truth was that Mia preferred to work alone. It made thinking easier. Going deep. Seeing the connection. She had nothing against Anette or, indeed, any of her colleagues – they did an excellent job – but every now and again, being surrounded by people got too much for her and her brain refused to work as it should.