There is an awkward silence in the kitchen.
‘I didn’t know,’ Marie-Louise says at last. ‘You never mentioned it, Jan.’
‘It just never came up... but I’m not ashamed of it.’
Marie-Louise nods understandingly, but he feels she is looking at him with new eyes. He catches her glancing at him several times with a wary expression. It seems as if Jan has destroyed her confidence in him — he has let her down by revealing the cracks in his soul.
But it doesn’t matter any more. Cracks let in the light.
The last thing he does at the end of the working day is to take Rami’s picture books and his own diary out of his rucksack and put them away safely in his locker. There isn’t much room in there among his jacket, umbrella and books, but he manages to squash them in.
When Rami comes out of St Psycho’s tonight he will open the locker and show her all the picture books. And the new ink drawings.
Because Jan is going to help her escape from the clinic. This time it’s going to work.
Jan knew there was only one way out of the Unit that wasn’t locked: the window above the cooker in the kitchen. The staff wanted to be able to air the room to get rid of the smell of cooking. The kitchen was at the back of the building and had no internal door, but there was almost always someone there during the day, so if you wanted to escape, you would have to be up early.
Jan woke at six. He had set his alarm, and when it started to buzz and he opened his eyes, he felt a long, slender body beside him.
Rami was lying there, her eyes wide open.
Jan quickly pushed his hand down to feel the sheet underneath him, but it was dry.
Rami kissed his forehead. ‘Stockholm,’ she said.
Jan just wanted to lie there, to forget about running away. But he nodded, and they got up.
They didn’t switch on the light; they got dressed and crept out into the corridor like two grey shadows. Jan was carrying a little bag containing a few clothes and his diary, with his bedspread tucked underneath his arm; Rami was behind him with her own bag and something large and black. The guitar case, Jan realized.
‘Are you taking that with you?’ he whispered.
She nodded. ‘I told you... We’re going to sing and play on the streets of Stockholm to make some money.’
Jan couldn’t sing, but he didn’t say anything. All the doors were closed, including the door to the staffroom at the end of the corridor. Jan looked at it for a long time as they crept past. The kitchen was empty and in darkness.
Rami put down the guitar case and slid back the bolts securing the window. She pushed it wide open, and the icy morning air swept in.
She took a deep breath. ‘Stockholm,’ she said again, as if it were a magical place.
She quickly climbed up on to the hob and jumped out of the window. Outside there was a paved patio area with a wooden table and chairs.
Jan watched as Rami picked up one of the chairs and carried it across the grass to the fence. Halfway there she looked back over her shoulder and he nodded to her — but remained standing by the window.
Shit, he thought.
Then he spun around without even thinking and raced back into the corridor. He ran to the right, towards the bedrooms, but stopped outside the closed door of the staffroom. He raised his fist and banged on the door, three times.
He didn’t know if anyone was in there, and he didn’t wait to find out. He went straight back to the kitchen.
Rami was waiting for him outside the window. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I went to the toilet,’ he lied.
Then he climbed up on to the windowsill and jumped out.
‘The table,’ he said.
Jan and Rami had gone over their escape plan in advance; they each grabbed one end of the table on the patio and carried it across to the fence. Then Rami put the chair on top of the table, and Jan climbed up and hurled the brown bedspread at the top of the fence. Twice he missed, but the third time the thick fabric covered the barbed wire and stayed there.
It was bitterly cold by the fence, but Jan was sweating. He quickly glanced back at the Unit and saw that all the windows were in darkness except one: the light had just been switched on in the staffroom.
He could make out two figures in the room: a young female auxiliary whose name he didn’t know, and Jörgen, who was pulling on his shirt. They must have slept together, just like Jan and Rami.
Jan looked at her again. ‘You first.’
She was lighter than him, and leapt up at the fence from the chair. Rami was a squirrel now, and got a good grip on the wire through the bedspread. She got one leg over the barbed wire, swung the rest of her body over the top and landed on the other side.
They looked at each other through the fence. Jan picked up the guitar and managed to throw it over to her.
She nodded. ‘Your turn.’
Jan jumped up. He was no squirrel, but he managed to hang on through sheer willpower. The barbs had begun to poke through the bedspread, scratching the palms of his hands, but he managed to clamber right up to the top.
At that moment he heard the sound of banging on the window behind him — they had been seen.
A door opened, someone shouted at them.
Jan swallowed nervously but didn’t look around; he swung himself over and dropped to the ground.
They were on the other side of the fence. They gathered up their things and set off along the path, side by side. It was ten to seven; there wasn’t anyone around, but the sun was just beginning to rise.
From this point their plan was less sure — they had just wanted to get away. Jan had hardly any spare clothes, and only fifty kronor in his pocket.
‘We’re free!’ Rami said, then she yelled, ‘Stockholm!’ at the top of her voice.
This was the first time Jan had seen Rami excited, almost happy. Her cheeks were rosy; he smiled at her, and suddenly knew what it meant to enjoy being with one special person.
He was fourteen years old, and head over heels in love.
The staff from the Unit caught up with them only ten minutes later. The paths in the surrounding area were deserted; the search party had no problem spotting Jan and Rami.
The sound of an engine broke the silence of the morning.
A small white car appeared from the back of the Unit, swung around and picked up speed.
Rami stopped smiling. ‘It’s them!’
The cumbersome guitar case was slowing her down, so Jan took it off her and they broke into a run. The path curved to the left and followed a small stream; tarmac and water meandered along side by side for another hundred metres, then there was a narrow wooden bridge.
‘This way!’ Rami shouted.
On the other side there was a grove of trees, and beyond the trees they could just see the town centre.
Jan didn’t need to say a word — he and Rami ran towards the bridge, then across it.
She was faster, and was halfway to the trees by the time the car pulled up on the other side of the water. Jan was slower; he had too much to carry. He turned his head and saw Jörgen leap out of the driver’s seat. The girl was getting out of the passenger seat; she looked more hesitant.
The Secret Avenger would have blown up the bridge, but Jan didn’t have any dynamite.
Jörgen was already halfway across, and his strides were twice as long as Jan’s.
It was all over, they weren’t going to make it. Jan had known it all along, really.
‘Rami!’
She didn’t stop, but she did slow down and look at him. A slim figure in the morning light, the love of his life.