She was in her early forties, fair-haired and wearing a waist-length brown and beige sports jacket, newly washed faded jeans and black ankle boots. She had a russet-coloured bag over her shoulder. Her face was distinctive, with arched light eyebrows, high cheekbones and a mouth that had lost the easy smile it once had, judging by the lines around her eyes. She was wearing discreet make-up and a simple gold chain around her thin neck.
She plaited her fingers and stretched out her arms, palms towards me: a fairly clear sign that she had no real desire to begin.
I pushed the notepad aside as though to give her a bit more confidence. ‘I didn’t catch… your first name…’
‘Sidsel. With a “d”.’
‘And what can I do for you?’
Again her eyes had that hint of remoteness as she looked at me. ‘I… I never thought I’d find myself in a situation where I’d need to resort to the services of, er – somebody like yourself.’
‘Let’s call a spade a spade – you mean a private investigator.’ I placed my hand on the left side of my chest and leaned back with a little smile. ‘But in my heart of hearts I’m a sociologist.’
‘Really? Is that your background?’
I nodded.
‘I haven’t told my husband that I… In any case… we’re separated.’
‘I see.’
‘I don’t really think he would… Perhaps you’ve heard of him. Holger Skagestøl.’
‘The journalist?’
‘Yes, now he’s – on the editorial board.’
‘Oh, I see. Yes, I do know the name and who he is, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him.’
‘No, well…’ She opened her handbag and fumbled for something before glancing round enquiringly. ‘May I smoke?’
I opened the second drawer down and took out a little pottery ashtray Thomas had once made at school. ‘Of course.’
‘You don’t smoke yourself, then?’
‘No, I stick to the other vices.’
She gave a faint smile, put the cigarette in her mouth and lit it herself. ‘I don’t smoke much either. But…’
‘It wasn’t to tell me this that you came, though, was it?’
She glanced at me surprised. ‘No.’
Reassuringly, I nodded at her to continue.
‘We have three children. Torild’s sixteen, Vibeke fifteen and Stian’s ten.’
‘Mm. Is it about one of them perhaps?’
‘Yes. Torild. That’s with a “d”.’
‘A family tradition?’
She didn’t even attempt a smile. ‘Yes, you could say so.’
‘And what’s happened to her?’
She dragged nervously on her cigarette and exhaled as though intent on fumigating the room. ‘She’s disappeared. Hasn’t been home for – nearly a week!’
‘Oh?’
The fact that the cat was finally out of the bag also seemed to have loosened her tongue. ‘I couldn’t help noticing after we, well, after the separation, that she hasn’t been, well, content, so to speak, but it’s never, no, she has sometimes been a bit late home, but I’ve never waited up for her, till she came home, but last Thursday, I never went to bed at all, because she didn’t come home!’
‘Oh? Where was she?’
‘Well, you see I thought that, but she hadn’t been to school either, it turned out that she’d often been absent lately, without my knowledge. I… Obviously, I thought she was at a friend’s house, so I rang round, but she wasn’t at any of those places either, not at any of them, so I thought, well, she’ll come home when she’s hungry, then it was evening, then night, and she just didn’t come.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Well, that Friday she wasn’t supposed to be at school, in any case. It was an inset day. Then I called Holger.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘Well, obviously he started to ask me the same questions, whether I’d called this person or that, and why I hadn’t let him know that she’d been in a bit of a strop, and that she might have a boyfriend…’
‘And might she?’
‘Have a boyfriend?’ She looked as though she scarcely knew what the word meant. ‘Not a steady boyfriend. Not that I know of. But now I see that, well, then there are the others to look after as well, and it’s not so easy, with all that happened with Holger and everything, it wasn’t my fault that things went wrong!’
‘No, I realise that.’
‘Oh, how do you mean?’
‘Well, I… But there is no boyfriend, is there?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Have you asked her girlfriends about it too? They often know more than-’
‘None of them has said anything at least!’
‘Has she ever had anything to do with… Well… Drugs, alcohol, the police?’
‘No, she…’ She glanced away momentarily. ‘Well, of course, actually, there have been times when she’s come home smelling of beer and it’s a long time since she started to smoke.’ She looked at her own cigarette with distaste; there was already only about half of it left.
‘But I really can’t say that she’s ever been, well, drunk…’
‘It doesn’t sound all that unusual, alas. She’s sixteen, you said?’
‘Yes, her birthday was in January.’
‘So she’s in Class 9?’
‘Yes. At Nattland School. We live in Furudalen, this side of Natland Mountain.’
‘I see.’ I had started taking notes.
She watched me write. ‘The form teacher’s name is Sandal. Helene Sandal.’
‘Got it. Any particularly close girlfriends?’
‘Well… Åsa.’
‘Mm?’
She glanced at my notebook. ‘Åsa Furebø. She and… her parents, they were friends of ours – of Holger and mine before… But it was Holger and Trond who were friends to begin with, so after… But I’ve met Randi in town, for a coffee, we talk to one another, she and I do, I mean.’
‘And where do they live?’
‘Down in… Birkelundsbakken. Not far from where the stave church was, before it was burnt down…’
‘But you’ve talked to her, have you? To Åsa?’
‘She was the first person I called.’
‘And she didn’t know anything either?’
‘No, she wasn’t at their place.’
‘But… Thursday, Friday… That’s nearly a week now.’
‘Yes, I… At first I thought, well, the weekend, she’ll surely come at the weekend, but then I thought, OK, school starts again on Monday, but…’
‘Look, to be frank, a girl who’s never been away like this before – or has she?’
‘Torild? Been away? No, not like this.’
‘Not – like this?’
‘No, she’s just come back late sometimes.’
‘How late?’
‘In the morning, but that’s been from parties and I, well, she was grounded the first time but the next time, I mean, you can’t lock young people in either, can you?’
‘No, I don’t suppose you can. Where had she been those times? Did the two of you talk about it?’
‘No, I mean, yes, at discos and things, in town, and now and then at parties.’
‘Recently – or before?’
‘Er… Over the last year, in any case.’
‘When she was still fifteen, in other words?’
‘Yes!’ There was a hint of irritation in her eyes now. ‘You see, Holger wasn’t often home till past midnight, that is, after he became responsible at work, as he so nicely put it, but who he was responsible for, search me, and in any case, I had the other two to think about, Vibeke’s a completely different sort, much more homely in a way, and Stian, well, he’s still little, and you just want to do the best you can for your children, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course we do.’
‘Do you – have…?’
‘Yes, a son. But he’s grown up now.’
‘And is he making out all right?’
‘Yes. He’s a student in Oslo.’
‘Do you think you might be able to find her?’
‘Er, I… But there’s one thing I must ask you about… You have been in contact with the police, haven’t you?’