‘So what are you two girls up to?’ he asked in his smoothest voice.
Lola quickly looked away, which bothered him. He hadn’t meant to scare her.
‘Nothing,’ Eva-Britt snapped, planting herself in front of him with her arms folded, as if she regained something of her old, vicious self. ‘And you’ve got no right to come marching in here, Arne.’
The way she said his name had always annoyed him. She kind of spat it out, as if the letters had a nasty taste.
‘No right?’ He walked around Eva-Britt to the kitchen table, picked up one of the plastic containers and sniffed the contents. Acted as if he hadn’t seen similar containers hundreds of times before. ‘This smells like moonshine. As you know, it’s illegal to produce or sell alcohol at home. You could end up in jail . . .’
Eva-Britt shrank a little. ‘Lasse’s down in the paddock,’ she said, slightly too loudly.
‘And?’
‘Elita’s there too.’
Arne slowly replaced the stopper and put down the container. Nodded as reassuringly as he could to Lola, then turned and left the kitchen.
10
‘Everyone here is really friendly. Almost unpleasantly friendly, if you know what I mean – a bit like the neighbours at the beginning of Rosemary’s Baby. You’re laughing now, aren’t you? Remembering how I hated all those old horror films you made me watch. We used to sit on your bed with the laptop between us, with me trying to hide how scared I was. I miss those times, Margaux. I miss them so much.’
Thea and Dr Andersson get into the Toyota. They’re going to visit a patient on the way home. Apparently Kerstin Miller used to be David’s teacher. She lives in the hunting lodge, deep in the forest. Thea tries to remember if David has ever mentioned her, but the name doesn’t ring any bells.
‘When you’re doing home visits, it’s important to press the business journey button on the sat-nav so that it matches your travel log. The foundation likes to keep an eye on its outgoings.’ She groans at the effort involved in turning her upper body as she reverses away from the centre. ‘I thought this morning went very well. I was afraid that people might be a little shy, especially with someone from Uppland, but they talked to you as if they’d known you for years. I think you’re going to fit in very well, Thea.’ She nods with satisfaction at her verdict. ‘You haven’t worked as a GP before, have you?’
‘No. I was a pathologist for a few years.’
‘What made you want to change?’
Thea shrugs. ‘I became good friends with a woman I met at a conference, and she got me into Doctors Without Borders. She convinced me I could do more good among the living.’
She stops; she has no desire to say any more about Margaux.
Dr Andersson seems satisfied with her answer. She remains silent for all of five seconds before changing the subject.
‘Ingrid and I went to school together – maybe she already told you that?’
Thea shakes her head.
‘I’ve known her and Bertil ever since we were little. Ingrid was the class organiser even back then. Bertil was a couple of years above us. He was a good footballer. And he was very handsome.’ She laughs. ‘Well, handsome for Tornaby! He looked a bit like Elvis, with eyes like velvet and wavy hair. A lot of the girls were after Bertil – much prettier girls than Ingrid, but she decided she wanted him, and all the rest just had to step aside. Even Bertil didn’t have much say in the matter.’ The doctor laughs again. ‘They were made for each other, those two. They were both strong-willed and ambitious, both with a fierce sense of responsibility. Ingrid’s father owned the general store and chaired the sports association, while Bertil’s father ran the bank and was a local councillor. The cream of the village, if you know what I mean. Ingrid was twenty-one when they got married, and David came along the following year.’
The doctor lowers her voice.
‘It could have gone very badly. Ingrid haemorrhaged – she almost died.’
‘Oh goodness – I didn’t know that.’
‘Yes, it was a close thing. Bertil sat by her side at the hospital, refused to move until she was out of danger.’
‘Is that why David’s an only child?’
The doctor nods sadly. ‘They had to perform a hysterectomy, which was very sad, because I know she’d always wanted a big family. Life hasn’t been easy for Ingrid.’
She turns to Thea with a wry smile, pauses briefly as if to let her into the conversation.
‘Anyway,’ she continues when the silence has gone on for a little too long, ‘Ingrid’s parents died when her brother Arne was in his early teens, so she and Bertil more or less brought him up. Have you met Arne?’
‘Only in passing.’
The doctor tilts her head to one side as if she’s waiting for a continuation. She looks disappointed when Thea fails to oblige.
‘Arne’s a bit . . . different. He was married for a while, to a girl from Thailand that he brought over here with her little boy. It didn’t work out, and they went back home. He took it pretty hard.’
Dr Andersson seems to have exhausted the topic, or maybe she’s finally realised that Thea isn’t going to supply her with any tasty details about David’s family.
They take a different road out of the village, past the sports ground and the school. On the common people have started building a bonfire for Walpurgis Night, but there is something unusual about this one; it has been constructed around a pole with a crossbar at the top.
‘What’s that?’ Thea asks, pointing at the structure.
‘Sorry? Oh, that’s for the Green Man. It’s a local custom – some say it came over from England with the Gordon family, but others believe it’s much older. Maybe you’ve already heard of the Green Man?’ The doctor doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘Every year the residents of Tornaby burn an effigy of the Green Man on top of the bonfire. They make it together – a bit like the midsummer maypole. You’ll see for yourself; it’s put in place on the day before Walpurgis Night. It’s really an old fertility rite, just like the fire – burning the old and the dead to make room for the new and the living.’
‘There’s an oak tree in the forest with a Green Man’s face on it,’ Thea interjects. ‘People seem to have put small gifts into its mouth.’
The doctor nods. ‘There must be half a dozen similar trees in the area. The business of the gifts or offerings is left over from pagan times, as I’m sure you know. Quite a lot of people around here make their own small Green Man figure and hang it on the door just before Walpurgis Night, so that the Green Man and his huntsmen won’t frighten their pets.’
Thea is reminded of the figure made of twigs that she found in the tin.
‘Once upon a time,’ Dr Andersson continues, ‘long before my day, they used to hold a ceremony when the Green Man was burned. A beautiful young girl was selected, and they pretended to sacrifice her to the Green Man before the bonfire was lit. I think the tradition died out at the beginning of the last century, but there are some old photographs in the Folk Museum, if you’re interested?’
The doctor is interrupted by her mobile phone. She rummages around in her pockets and manages to find the hands-free headset.
‘Hi – no, you’re not disturbing me. We’re on our way to see Kerstin Miller.’
Thea thinks about the ancient custom, small figures made of twigs, and a young woman pretending to be a sacrifice to the Green Man. This all fits with the items she found inside the Gallows Oak – but who are the children and the girl in the photograph?