All the doors looked the same. He decided to open one at random. He peeped in and could see that it was almost completely dark. Just a faint light from a lamp in one corner. He went in. His eyes got used to the darkness, and he saw that he was in a room with a lot of beds.
The room was filled with snores. There was a squeaking and sighing and grinding and singing. He took another couple of paces forward, and saw that there were very old people in each of the beds.
A hospital, he thought. Or an old people’s home. Or a mixture of the two.
There was a strong, pungent smell. In one of the beds was an old man who wasn’t snoring. Joel suddenly had the feeling that the man was watching him through half-closed eyes.
And then he thought the man was dead.
The panic came from nowhere. Joel raced out of the room and paid no attention to the fact that the door creaked.
As he hurtled into the corridor he heard voices. A door opened and closed. The voices were getting louder. Joel turned round and ran back along the corridor. But he no longer knew which door he’d just come out of. There were lots of double doors. The voices were very close now. Joel ducked in through the nearest door. He heard footsteps going past in the corridor. Two women talking. And then all was quiet again.
The room was suddenly lit up. Joel whipped round, but there was nobody there. Then he realised that he must have brushed against the light switch with his shoulder. He was about to switch off again when he saw that he was in some kind of changing room. There were rows of lockers and benches. And there was a name on every locker door.
Mummy Jenny, he thought. If it really was you coming here tonight, your name will be on one of these lockers.
Doctor Jenny, or Nurse Jenny. Or Manager Jenny.
He started to work his way along the rows of lockers. Nearly all of them had women’s names on the door. There was an Arne Bergström and somebody called Hagge K, but all the rest were women.
There was a Judith and a Johanna in the first row. Joel started to work his way through those opposite.
He’d come more or less to the middle of the row.
And then he saw the name.
Jenny Rydén.
He held his breath.
Was this his mum? Jenny Rydén?
He just knew it was. But there again...
The locker door wasn’t locked. If he opened it and found the green coat hanging there, he would be sure.
He decided to leave the door closed.
Then he opened it.
The coat hanging inside the locker was even greener than he’d thought. It was the same colour as a lawn.
Jenny Rydén’s coat. His mother’s coat.
There was a handbag hanging from a hook next to the coat.
I could open it, he thought. There might be a purse inside it. With an address. Saying ‘Östgötagatan’. There might even be something else. Making it clear if she’s my mother or not.
Ever so carefully, he unhooked the handbag. It was fastened with a strap and a little silver stud.
He had the feeling that he was about to open a treasure chest that he’d been looking for as long as he could remember.
But maybe he should resist the temptation to open the bag. Samuel ought to have been there as well. Jenny was just as much his as Joel’s.
But he couldn’t resist it. He opened the handbag. It contained a pair of gloves. And a powder compact.
And a purse.
He put the handbag down on the floor and opened the purse.
As he did so the door burst open, and a man in a white coat was staring at Joel.
He had no way of knowing if it was Arne Bergström or Hagge K.
Joel tried to say something by way of explanation, and he even bowed to the man in the doorway.
But that was as far as he was allowed to go. The man strode towards him. Joel tried to duck, but two powerful hands grabbed hold of his arms.
‘A thief,’ he yelled. ‘You’re a thief. What are you doing in here? How did you get in? What have you pinched? How did you break into that locker? What’s your name?’
The questions came tumbling out of the man’s mouth. He was shouting, and red in the face.
He’ll hit me, Joel thought. He’s going to hit me.
When the man paused to breathe, Joel tried to say something. But the man started shouting and yelling again. The door to the corridor was flung open. An old man wearing shabby pyjamas and carrying a walking stick was peering short-sightedly at them.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Go back to bed, Erik.’
The man holding Joel still sounded angry. The old man looked scared, turned and left.
‘I’m not a thief,’ Joel said. ‘I’m lost.’
‘A thief,’ said the man again. ‘You’re a thief.’
‘I’m just looking for my mum.’
Joel heard the words coming out of his mouth, but he had no idea where they originated. Nevertheless, the man holding him seemed to hesitate.
‘Your mum?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Jenny.’
‘There are two women working here called Jenny. What’s your surname?’
‘Gustafson.’
Joel realised that was the wrong answer. But it was too late. The man’s grip on him tightened even more.
‘There’s nobody here called Jenny Gustafson. You’re not only a thief, you’re a liar as well.’
Joel thought he had nothing to lose. If there were two women called Jenny working here, only one of them could have the surname Rydén. If he was lucky, he would have guessed right. But even if he had guessed right, he could still be wrong. He didn’t know if the woman he’d seen entering the building really was his mother.
‘Rydén,’ he said. ‘My mum’s called Rydén.’
The man let go, but only with one hand. He was still glaring suspiciously at Joel.
‘What do you want her for in the middle of the night?’
Joel was thinking desperately how he could get out of this awkward situation. He was usually good at getting out of awkward situations. But on this occasion, his mind seemed to have come to a complete standstill.
‘We’d better go and fetch her.’
The man started to drag Joel to the door.
That was the moment when his brain started functioning again.
‘It would be better if I didn’t actually see her.’
The man stopped and stared at Joel.
‘I thought you just said that was why you’d come here?’
‘I can explain.’
The man let go of him. But he stood guard in front of the door in case Joel tried to run away.
‘I went out after she’d left for work,’ said Joel. ‘And then the door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t have a key and didn’t know how I was going to get back in. She gets angry if I’m out late at night. I thought I’d come and collect her key. Then go home and unlock the door. And then I thought I’d leave the key lying on the floor. That would make her think she’d dropped it.’
The words simply tumbled out. One after the other. Joel was amazed by the way in which he’d managed to patch together a story that sounded almost like the truth.
‘You expect me to believe that?’
Yes, thought Joel. Or at least, I hope you will. So that I can get out of here.
The door opened again. It was the same old man as before.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Go back to bed, Erik. You shouldn’t be up and wandering around in the night. You’ll only get lost and end up in the wrong bed.’
The old man went away.
Joel thought he’d better improve his story.
‘My mum would be very angry,’ he said.
The answer he received surprised him.
‘You can bet your life she would,’ said the man, shaking his head.
Then he turned serious again. His suspicions had returned.