The issue this time was a plan to raise money by selling Christmas decorations. A group of parents had been making decorative wreaths and bouquets and the pupils in Sibylla's class were asked to be door-to-door sellers. The proceeds would help to pay for a school-trip in the spring.
Beatrice Forsenström had not joined the parent group. She had no patience with that kind of collective effort and the prospect of spending several evenings fiddling with folksy handicrafts simply out of question. Quite unsuitable for someone of her standing. Indeed, her reservations applied to her daughter too. The child must not be expected to rush around knocking on doors asking for hand-outs like some little beggar. When Sibylla brought the note from school, Beatrice had crumpled it and thrown it into the wastepaper-basket.
Now, no one could miss the irritation in Mrs Forsenström's voice.
'So how much is each child expected to get from selling these things?'
Miss had gone to stand behind her desk.
'It depends. I'm not at all sure what the final sum will be.'
'Please let me know as soon as you have an idea. My daughter will not join in the selling, but naturally I'll make a financial contribution.'
Miss looked at Sibylla. She was focusing on the geography book in front of her. There are four rivers in Halland County. Then she heard how Miss tried her best.
'But the children are so looking forward to the selling part. They think it's really exciting.'
'Quite so, but you mustn't include Sibylla. Just tell me what would be appropriate and I'll give you the money there and then. Don't worry about that.'
'You must realise that we took this initiative precisely so that parents shouldn't have to pay extra for the school-trip.'
Suddenly Beatrice Forsenström looked pleased. Sibylla understood that her mother had manipulated Miss into saying exactly what she had hoped to hear. Now Mrs Forsenström took the chance to express her precise views on the whole matter.
Sibylla shut her eyes.
'Nothing personal, but I must say it's seems extraordinary that the school should make decisions of this nature without consulting ALL the parents. I don't doubt that some of them thought this arrangement might be the best way to deal with their problems, but personally I prefer paying what's due as and when. Just do remember in future that my husband and I wish to be informed of anything involving our daughter. And of course, we expect to be listened to before any venture is agreed.'
Miss didn't say any more then.
She had wanted to go selling with Erika. Miss had paired everybody off so that no one would go alone. Sibylla had been looking forward to it for a whole week. She heard her mother turn round and leave.
The first protests came the moment the door slammed shut.
'Miss. It isn't fair if Sibbie is excused from selling.'
'Miss. Can I go round with Susanne and Eva instead now?'
Erika had sounded hopeful.
Torbjorn who was sitting just in front of Sibylla turned round to her and said: 'If you've got such a lot of money your mum could pay for the whole class to go on the trip.'
She felt the tears burn behind her eyelids. There was nothing more hateful than suddenly being the target of everyone's eyes.
'Listen class, it's time to take a break now.'
The banging of chairs being pulled back.When Sibylla looked up again she was alone in the classroom. Only Miss was still there, standing behind her desk. She smiled wanly at Sibylla and sighed.
Sibylla felt something running out of her nose. She had to snivel to stop it from dripping on the desk.
'I'm really sorry, Sibylla. There's nothing I can do.'
Sibylla nodded and looked down again. The picture of the harbour fortress in Varberg became bubbly in two places when her eyes overflowed. Miss went over to her, putting her hand on Sibylla's shoulder.
'You're allowed to stay in this break, if you like.'
She felt quite dopey when she woke up. Must have been a bad dream. Her throat was swollen and it hurt to swallow. The heater had gone out and there was no more paraffin. She reached for her boots. They were freezing. A raw chill was spreading from the boots up through her legs. She was already wearing her anorak.
Lifting the hem of the curtain, she peered outside. The other allotments looked quiet and empty. She grabbed an apple on her way out and then opened the front door. It wasn't raining any more but the sky was such a dark grey it seemed strange that light could penetrate it at all.
The small garden had been neatly prepared for the winter months. The Johanssons had been very careful to follow recommendations in their gardening books. All dead plants had been cut back and put on the compost heap just inside the wooden fence. They had put fir branches over the borders, presumably where their most tender specimens were hiding during the winter.
'Are you looking for somebody?'
She started, quickly turning to see who had spoken. There was a man standing on the other side of the fence at a point outside the scanning range from her window. He was holding some cut branches.
'Oops! You really made me jump!'
He looked at her suspiciously and she couldn't blame him. It was well known that the Eriksdal Park area was frequented by junkies.
'Kurt and Birgit asked me to look after their cottage for a couple of weeks. They're off to the Canaries.'
She walked over to him and held out her hand across the fence. Maybe this chatty mention of the Canary Islands was a bit much? It was too late for second thoughts now.
'My name is Monica. I'm Birgit's niece.'
He shook her hand and introduced himself.
'Uno Hjelm. Sorry to bother you, but we operate a kind of Neighbourhood Watch here. There's quite a few weird characters about in this area.'
'I know. That's why they asked me to turn up once in while to keep an eye on things.'
He nodded. She sensed that her lies had gone down quite well.
'Off to the Canaries, eh? That's something else, now. Didn't say a word about that last week.' No surprise there.
'It was a sudden inspiration. Well, they came across a cheap offer.'
He looked towards the sky.
'Well, we can only hope they get better weather down there. Not such a bad idea, getting away to the sun for a bit.' ‘I couldn't agree more.'
He seemed to be dreaming about travelling, so she took the opportunity to move on.
'I'll go for a walk now and come back later.'
'Right you are. Well, we might still be here, though I'm ready to give up pretty soon. I just thought I'd come and look the place over.'
She nodded and walked down the path towards the small gate. She only hoped that Kurt and Birgit wouldn't turn up while she was off to the Statoil garage.
Now, that would confuse Mr Hjelm.
She walked as quickly as she could. The label in the sleeping bag stated that it would protect against temperatures as low as fifteen degrees below zero, but she'd woken up feeling freezing after her brief nap. If only she had a couple of aspirins for her throat. Maybe she could scrounge some at the Salvation Army hostel?
She had almost reached the Statoil garage when the rain started again. Drying wet clothes was an utterly miserable exercise and she almost ran the last bit to get under the roof. If only she had an umbrella for the way back!
The news posters for that afternoon were on display outside the garage doors. She looked quickly at them in the passing. One was yellow and the words were printed on two lines.
VICTIM OF RITUAL MURDER AT THE GRAND
Mysterious woman wanted by police
She stopped to look.
There was a photo below the headline. No question whose face it showed.
It was Jorgen Grundberg's.
Beatrice Forsenström sounded disapproving.
'This is not the moment to discuss it. Just put on your dress and get ready now.'
Sibylla was sitting on the edge of her bed in her underwear. She'd been steeling herself, choosing her moment with care. They were dressing for the Christmas party at her father's firm, the one time in the year when her mother might be open to persuasion. The idea of the party always put her in a good mood and she would be full of anticipation, hurrying about trying to get everyone looking their smartest. After all, in little Hultaryd there were few other opportunities for her to enjoy her status in full.