“Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
“Of course you didn’t wake me, Mother. I’ve got Kristiane here this week.”
Johanne tried to grab her robe. The telephone cord wasn’t long enough. She wrapped the duvet around her shoulders instead. There was a draft from the windows.
“Your father is worried.”
Johanne wanted to snap: You are the one who’s worried. She checked herself with a resigned sigh and tried to sound cheerful.
“Oh? Worried about me? There’s no need for that.”
“What about your behavior the other day? On TV no less… In fact, he even lies awake at night and wonders… Is everything alright, dear?”
“Let me talk to Dad.”
“Your father? He… he’s busy at the moment. But listen to me, dear. We thought that maybe a short break would do you good. You’ve had a lot going on recently, what with Kristiane and work and… Do you want to come with us to the cottage today? I’m sure you can get time off on Monday and maybe even Tuesday too. You and your father could go fishing and we could go for some lovely walks… And I’ve already spoken to Isak and he’s happy to have Kristiane from today…”
“You’ve spoken to Isak?”
It was great that she and Isak had a good relationship when it came to Kristiane. And she realized that everyone, not least their daughter, benefited from the fact that Isak also got along well with his ex-in-laws. But there were limits. She had a suspicion that he dropped by to see them every week, with or without Kristiane.
“Yes, gosh! He’s thinking about buying a new yacht, did you know? Not just a racing boat this time; he said he was getting a bit bored of… well, of course, it’s got something to do with Kristiane, as well. She just loves being on the water, and those fast sailing boats are not particularly suitable for children. He was here yesterday and we talked about you, you know, about how worrie…”
“Mom!”
“What, dear?”
“There’s no need to be worried. I am absolutely fine. And anyway, I’m going…”
If she told her mother that she was going to the States, she would get no peace at all, just endless advice on travel routes and precautions. Her mother would end up packing her suitcase for her.
“Mom, I’m a bit busy right now. I’m afraid I haven’t got time to come to the cottage, but thanks anyway. Give my love to Dad.”
“But Johanne, could you not at least come over and see us tonight? I could make something nice to eat and then you and your father could play…”
“I thought you were going to the cottage.”
“Only if you wanted to come with us, dear.”
“Bye, Mom.”
She made sure that she put the receiver down calmly and carefully. Her mother often accused her of hanging up. She was right, but it was better if it wasn’t slammed down.
Taking a shower helped. Kristiane sat on the toilet seat and talked to Sulamit, a fire engine with a face and eyes that blinked. Sulamit was nearly as old as Kristiane and had lost a ladder and three wheels. No one apart from Kristiane knew how it got its name.
“Sulamit has saved a horse and an elephant today. Good Sulamit.”
Johanne brushed her wet hair and tried to wipe the steam off the mirror.
“What happened to the horse and the elephant?” she asked.
“Sulamit and dynamit. Elephant and pelephant.”
Johanne went back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a red fleece. Thankfully she had done all the shopping for the weekend yesterday, before collecting Kristiane from day care. They could go for a long walk. Kristiane needed to be out for a few hours if she was going to be quiet in the evening. The weather looked good; she pulled back the bedroom curtains and squinted at the day outside.
The doorbell rang.
“Damn it, Mom!”
“Damn it,” repeated Kristiane seriously.
Johanne stamped out into the hall and pulled open the front door.
“Morning,” said Adam Stubo.
“Hi…”
“Hello,” said Kristiane, sticking her head out from behind her mom’s thighs, with a big smile.
“You’re looking very nice today!”
Adam Stubo held his hand out to the little girl. Amazingly, she took it.
“My name is Adam,” he said solemnly. “And what is your name?”
“Kristiane Vik Aanonsen. Good morning. Good night. I have a kite.”
“Oh… can I see it?”
Kristiane showed him Sulamit. When he wanted to hold the fire engine, she pulled back.
“I think that’s the best kite I have ever seen,” he said.
The child vanished.
“I was in the neighborhood, so I thought…”
He shrugged. The obvious lie made his eyes narrow into an almost flirty smile. Johanne was caught off guard by a strange jabbing feeling, a breathlessness that made her look down and mumble that he’d better come in.
“It’s not exactly clean in here,” she said automatically as she registered his eyes swooping over the living room.
He sat down on the sofa. It was too deep and soft for a man as heavy as Adam Stubo. His knees were pushed up too high and it almost looked as if he was sitting on the floor.
“Maybe you’d be more comfortable in a chair,” she suggested, removing a picture book from the seat.
“I’m comfortable here, thanks,” he said. It was only now that she realized he had a large envelope with him, which he placed in front of him on the coffee table.
“I just…”
She made a vague gesture toward Kristiane’s room. It was the same problem every time. As Kristiane looked like-and sometimes behaved like-a normal, healthy four-year-old, Johanne was always uncertain whether she should say anything. Whether she should explain that the girl was small for her age and was in fact six and brain-damaged, but no one seemed to know how or why. Or explain that all the strange babblings that came out of her daughter’s mouth were neither due to stupidity nor impudence, but rather a short circuit that no doctor could repair. Normally she waited too long. It was as if she hoped for a miracle every time. That her daughter would be rational. Logical. Coherent. Or that she would suddenly develop an obvious deformity-a lolling tongue or squinting eyes in a flat face that made everyone smile with warm understanding. Instead it was just awkward.
Kristiane settled down to watch 101 Dalmatians in her mother’s study.
“I don’t usually…”
Again she made that vague, apologetic gesture toward the room where her daughter was sitting.
“No problem,” said the policeman on the sofa. “I have to admit that I sometimes do the same. With my grandson, I mean. He can be pretty demanding. A video is a good babysitter, sometimes.”
Johanne felt the red flushing over her face and went into the kitchen. Adam Stubo was a grandfather.
“Why did you come here?” she asked when she returned with a cup of coffee that she put down in front of him, with a napkin underneath. “That ‘in the neighborhood’ explanation isn’t really true, is it?”
“It’s this case of ours.”
“Cases.”
He smiled.
“Correct. Cases. You’re right. At least… I feel that you can help me. It’s as simple as that. Don’t ask me why. Sigmund Berli, a good friend and colleague, can’t understand why I am pursuing you in this way.”
His eyes narrowed again in a way that had to be flirting. Johanne concentrated hard on not blushing again. Cake. She didn’t have any cake. Cookies. Kristiane had eaten them all yesterday.
“Do you take milk?”
She started to get up before he indicated otherwise with his right hand.
“Listen,” he started again, pulling out a pile of photographs from the envelope on the coffee table. “This is Emilie Selbu.”
The photo was of a pretty little girl with a garland of coltsfoot in her hair. She was very serious and her deep blue eyes looked almost mournful. There was a small hollow at the base of her thin neck. Her mouth was small, with full lips.