She tried to pull herself out of his grip.
“Let me make one thing damn clear-our relationship is over when I say it’s over. And not a word about this to a single person, or you can say good-bye to the stable forever. Just keep that in mind, you little slut!”
He pushed her away from him. Sobbing, she finally managed to open the door and stumble out of the car.
In the next instant he was gone. The last thing she heard was the tires screeching as he turned the corner.
Emma looked at her husband over the rim of her wineglass. They were still sitting at the table, talking after dinner as they usually did on the weekend. The children were watching Little Stars on TV, quite happy with bottles of Coke and a big bowl of popcorn. Olle seemed content. Was it really possible that he didn’t suspect a thing?
He refilled her glass. How absurd, she thought. Yesterday I was sitting just like this with Johan.
“That was certainly delicious,” he said.
She had served lamb burgers with yogurt sauce and homemade baba ghanoush. There was now a Lebanese restaurant in Visby, and they had tried it out on one of the rare occasions when they went out to dinner. The chef had given her the recipe when she asked him for it.
Yet another dinner in the long series of meals that they had shared. Olle asked her to tell him about the course she had taken in Stockholm, and so she did. They’d hardly had any time to talk since she had come home.
“How long did you stay at the banquet?”
“Oh, not very long,” she replied evasively. “I don’t know what time it was. Maybe one.”
“Did you leave with Viveka?”
“Yes,” she lied.
“Huh. I called your hotel this morning, but you weren’t there. And your cell phone was off.”
She felt a burning sensation shoot through her body. Now she was going to have to tell another lie.
“I must have been eating breakfast. What time did you call?”
“Eight thirty. I couldn’t find Sara’s sneakers.”
He kept his eyes fixed on her. Emma took another sip of her wine to gain some time.
“That’s when I was in the breakfast room. The battery on my cell had run out, so I left it in my room to recharge.”
“Oh, so that’s what happened,” he said, sounding satisfied.
A perfectly natural explanation. Of course that was what happened. His trust in her had been built up over many years. Why should he doubt what she told him? She had never given him any cause to do that.
The lies burned inside her, and for her the relaxed mood was now gone. She started to clear the table.
“Hey, sit down,” he objected. “That can wait.”
Their conversation moved on to other topics, and her feeling of uneasiness soon disappeared. They put the children to bed and watched an exciting thriller on TV. She curled up on the sofa with Olle’s arm around her, the same as always. And yet it wasn’t.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 25
Things finally fell apart the following morning. Emma’s cell rang while she was in the shower, and Olle checked to see what the message was.
It said: “How are you? Longing for you. Kisses, Johan.”
When she came out of the shower, Olle was sitting at the kitchen table. His face was white with fury, and he was holding her cell phone in his hand.
The floor gave way beneath her. She realized at once that he knew. Through the window she saw the children playing outside in the rain.
“What is it?” she asked in a feeble voice.
“What the hell is going on?” he said, his voice thick with anger.
“What do you mean?”
She could feel her lower lip quivering.
“You got a message,” he shouted. “On this!” He waved her cell in the air. “From some Johan who is longing for you and sending you kisses. Who the hell is Johan? ”
“Just wait and I’ll explain,” she pleaded as she cautiously sat down on the very edge of a chair across from him.
At that moment she heard the front door open.
“Mamma, Mamma, my mittens are wet,” cried Sara. “Can I have another pair?”
“I’m coming,” she called. She went out to the entryway and found another pair. Her hands were shaking.
“Here, sweetheart. Now go back out and play with Filip. Mamma and Pappa need to be alone to talk. So why don’t you and your brother stay outside for a while. I’ll call you when we’re done.”
She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and then went back to her husband in the kitchen.
“I’ve wanted to tell you, but it’s been so difficult,” she said, giving him an entreating look. “I’ve been seeing somebody for a while, but I’m so confused. I don’t really know what I feel.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His words cut right through her. She could hear how Olle was trying to control his anger by clenching his teeth. She didn’t dare look at him.
“It can’t be true! This is too fucking unbelievable!” he said.
He got up from the table and came to stand in front of her, still holding her cell phone in his hand.
“What the hell is going on here? Who is he?”
“He’s the journalist who interviewed me after Helena was killed. The journalist from TV. Johan Berg,” she said quietly.
Olle flung the cell phone to the floor with all his might. With a bang it was transformed into a pile of plastic and metal splinters. Then he turned to her.
“Have you been seeing him ever since then? Behind my back? For all these months?”
His face contorted with anger as he leaned toward her.
“Yes,” she said weakly. “But you have to let me explain. We haven’t been seeing each other the whole time.”
“Explain!” he shouted. “You can explain to your lawyer. Get out! I want you out of here!”
He grabbed her hard by the arm and yanked her out of the chair.
“Get out! You don’t belong here anymore. Leave right now, so I don’t have to look at you. Go to hell! I never want to see you again! Do you hear me? Never!”
The children had heard the ruckus, and they now appeared in the doorway. At first they looked bewildered, then they both started to cry. That didn’t stop Olle. He shoved Emma out onto the porch in her stocking feet and threw her jacket and boots after her.
“Here!” he yelled. “But you’re not taking the car!” And he snatched away her car keys.
Then he slammed the door shut.
Emma put on her jacket and boots. The door opened again and her purse came flying out.
She was out in the cold. The street was deserted.
A Sunday morning in November, and it was over. She stared at the closed door. Her purse had fallen open and the contents were scattered all over the porch and front steps. Mechanically she gathered up everything, too numb to cry. She walked down to the gate and opened it, then turned right, although she didn’t know why. She didn’t notice the neighbor family a couple of houses away who were talking and laughing as they climbed into their car and drove off. The mother waved to Emma but got no response.
She felt empty inside, as if stunned. Her face felt rigid. What on earth had she done? Where should she go now? She couldn’t go back to her own house.
The sports field next to the school was deserted. The wind was blowing from the north. She looked over at the main road where a few cars were driving past.
When did the buses go into town on Sundays? She had never needed to ask that question before.
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 26
The temperature in the sauna was 176 degrees Fahrenheit. Knutas filled a wooden ladle and tossed more water on the glowing hot stones. The temperature rose even higher.
They had swum a mile and were more than satisfied. Once a week Anders Knutas and Leif Almlov would go swimming together, at least in the wintertime. Knutas swam regularly at Solberga Baths during all seasons of the year. He actually preferred to swim alone. He always thought more clearly when he was in the water, swimming one lap after another. But this was a way for the two of them to meet. They had to put up with a good deal of joshing from their friends because they went to the swimming pool-something that was more typical for women. Men played tennis or golf together, or they went bowling.