A burst of stale, stuffy air greeted her when she opened the door to the basement. She turned on the light, which barely illuminated the steep staircase. The walls were covered in dirt and spiders’ webs, and it didn’t improve much as she reached the basement itself. She had expected a large room full of junk, but someone must have cleaned it out when the group moved in. All that was left now was the staff’s belongings, everything that didn’t fit in their rooms. All their things — clothing and various items of furniture — had simply been deposited willy-nilly on the floor. A sheet of paper with the name of the owner lay before each pile. It looked a mess. What was more, it all smelled mouldy.
There was no family history down here; she was sure of it. But she had to keep Oswald from discovering this mess. He would be furious, and it would surely lead to another renovation project with the whole staff working day and night. She had to talk to Bosse and arrange for boxes and storage, then get everyone to clean up their own property. Until then, it was probably best to keep the basement locked.
On her way back up the stairs, she thought about what she would tell Oswald. She couldn’t let this turn into one of those days when he ended up in a rage and they had to work all night.
Today was the eighth of August — her birthday. Birthdays weren’t celebrated at ViaTerra. The kitchen staff would bake a little cake you could have at dinner, with a candle in it. That was the extent of it. And you certainly didn’t get a cake if you were in Penance.
She supposed her parents would try to call to wish her a happy birthday. They would try her cell phone first, and when she didn’t answer that they would call the phone at the sentry box. She wondered what the guard would say. Probably that she was unavailable. Maybe Oswald would let her ring them up for a quick chat. As long as he was in a good mood. A very good mood.
She turned out the basement light as she left, and just as she was about to take the stairs up to the office she heard sounds from one of the other rooms. Muffled sobs. She followed the sounds and found herself at an open door at the end of the corridor. Mona was lying on one of the bottom bunks in the dormitory, crying piteously.
‘Mona, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?’
‘You can send me to Penance. I don’t care.’
Sofia sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Tell me what’s going on.’
‘I’m so tired. I can’t even think anymore. I can’t handle these working hours and I’m worried about Elvira.’
Sofia hadn’t talked to Elvira recently. The last time they saw each other, the girl had been working in the kitchen, looking happy, healthy, and lovely as always.
‘Is something wrong with Elvira?’
‘No, it’s just that she’s fourteen and she’s supposed to be in school.’
Sofia took Mona’s limp hand.
‘Listen, we can fix this. It will get better. Sometimes when you haven’t been sleeping, everything seems hopeless. Just stay in bed until you feel rested. I’ll tell Bosse you have a fever.’
‘You’re so nice.’
‘Hardly, but I want you to stay in the library.’
Mona laughed and snuffled. Her eyes were lined with red and sunken into deep, dark shadows. Sofia thought no one who worked at ViaTerra should look like that.
She mulled things over on the way to the office. There was no longer any work schedule for the staff. Everything Oswald wanted done had to be done ‘tonight,’ ‘before the end of the day,’ or ‘before you go to bed,’ so everyone just kept working until the task was finished. If there wasn’t enough manpower in your own unit, you just borrowed from another. Mona was constantly being loaned out. After all, guests never visited the library at night. And now the whole staff was suffering from exhaustion.
Sofia decided to bring it up with Oswald. Maybe he didn’t know how little sleep they got — he himself never showed up before late morning.
He looked up as she stepped through the office door.
‘So how did the basement look?’
‘Oh, it needs some cleaning, but we don’t need any cameras down there. It’s just the staff’s extra belongings. We can put a padlock on the door.’
‘Great. I have some good news.’
Thank god. He’s changed his mind. No surveillance cameras.
‘The security company will arrive after lunch. And the whole crew is already gathering in the yard for blueberry picking. I even got Bosse to arrange for caps so they look like a real team. See how funny they look?’
She went to the window and looked down at the yard. The entire staff was lined up, wearing blue caps and carrying blueberry rakes and buckets. She noticed Benjamin, who was standing very straight like a soldier heading to battle. The whole scene really did look comical. She held back a giggle, but she felt a pang in her heart — they all looked so clueless.
She put on her most sincere face and turned to Oswald.
‘Sir, there’s something I want to talk about.’
‘Out with it.’
‘I found Mona in her room. She’s sick with a fever. I understand she’s been working almost without sleep for several weeks. I thought it might be a good idea to come up with a work schedule for the staff.’
Oswald considered this for a moment. Those little wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
‘Lack of sleep doesn’t make people sick, Sofia. Viruses do. When you’re running a business, you can never put your staff first. If you do, it will all go to hell. Someone has to think first and foremost of the operation. That’s especially true at ViaTerra. Do you have any other solution to all the misery in the world?’ He was annoyed.
‘No, of course not.’
‘But you’re right about one thing. I don’t want a bunch of epidemics around here. We have to find a spot to isolate the sick. What do you think about the basement? Could we fit a few beds down there?’
‘Maybe. But it’s dark and kind of damp in there.’
She avoided mentioning the mouldy smell. If he heard about that he would hit the roof, and go take a look, and then her chances of calling home would be zero.
‘Oh, a little moisture won’t kill anyone. Being sick isn’t meant to be comfortable. Talk to Bosse. The two of you have to work it out before the fall bugs start going around.’
‘Okay, we will.’
‘What about Mona?’
‘Mona?’
‘Yes, you told her she had to go berry-picking too, right?’
‘No, I thought . . . with her fever and everything . . .’
‘What is wrong with you? Is she supposed to stay in her room while the security company installs the cameras?’
‘No, I forgot . . . I mean, I wasn’t thinking . . .’
‘That much is clear. Unless she has a fever of like 40 degrees, she’s going with everyone else.’
‘I’ll fix it.’
It felt like she was betraying Mona, but that didn’t stop her from sending a message to Bosse’s pager asking him to fetch Mona for their outing.
‘Bosse will deal with it.’
‘Good. And please, don’t touch anything in here until you’ve washed your hands. I don’t want to get whatever it is Mona has.’
She obediently headed for the bathroom to wash her hands.
‘If you’re worried about the schedule, bring it up with Bosse. Of course the staff can sleep. As long as they finish what I ask of them first,’ he said to her back.
She sat on the toilet lid for a moment, steaming. What a fucking birthday. And it probably wasn’t going to get much better.
*
A little while later she watched as the staff marched out of the yard in the direction of the woods. They were still in neat lines. Their caps slowly shrank into tiny blue dots in the distance.
The security company showed up soon after. Five young, talkative guys installed the cameras.
‘This is the best system there is,’ one of them assured them. ‘The cameras are so small they fit in the air vents. It’s almost impossible to see them. You can turn them on and off with a remote control within a radius of three hundred metres. Incredible, isn’t it?’
Oswald nodded. He had grown increasingly exhilarated as the installation progressed. By the time everything was finished and the technicians showed him the control panel full of screens, he was so worked up he couldn’t stand still. He paced back and forth, rubbing his hands.
He had sent Sofia out to oversee the installation in the classrooms, the personal advising rooms, and the work areas out on the property. He had stayed behind in the manor house.
She’d stopped to peek in the dining room, where the guests were reading Oswald’s briefing. They were deeply absorbed in the material, perfectly unaware of what was going on throughout the estate. Olof Hurtig had nodded at her as if to signal that everything was under control.
When she returned, Oswald was testing out the system. He laughed and joked with the technicians.
‘Hi there, I have a little birthday present for you,’ he said when he spotted her.
Her heart skipped a beat. He knew it was her birthday. Maybe he would let her call her parents after all.
‘There won’t be a camera in your bedroom,’ he said. ‘You’re the only one to be spared. So you and Benjamin can do whatever you want at night.’
He gave a loud guffaw. The technicians joined him in his roar of laughter.
*
Oswald’s enthusiasm about the new system lasted all day. When the staff came back, their buckets full of blueberries, he didn’t even hear their eager voices from the yard. He was entranced by the screens and buttons.
‘Listen, I think we should include Bosse in all this. You’re hardly going to have time to use the system, are you?’
She nodded in relief; the last thing she wanted to do was sit around spying on the staff.
‘Tell him to come up here after dinner.’
Bosse shared Oswald’s enthusiasm for the system from the start. They were like little boys on Christmas Eve, all shining eyes and rosy cheeks. They stared at the screens long into the night while she worked at her own little desk. It was getting too late to call home.
She was frustrated and ready to cry.
‘Look at this, Bosse!’ Oswald cried.
She sneaked a peek. The screen showed Eskil, who took care of the animals. He was in bed, and there could be no doubt that he was jerking off under the covers. The volume was up so high that Eskil’s groans echoed off the walls. Oswald began to giggle. She’d never heard him giggle before. Bosse was bent almost double in laughter. Sofia shook her head and gave Bosse a pointed look. Just then, Oswald got hold of himself and turned off the screen.
‘Seriously, though, Bosse. I want you to be in charge of surveillance. The idea is to keep all areas under watch. Regularly. Eventually we will find that damned mole. He’ll have hidden a phone or laptop. And he’ll be texting or emailing from places where he thinks no one can see. Got it?’
Bosse nodded eagerly and gazed admiringly at Oswald, who turned off the surveillance system, stood up, and yawned loudly.
‘I think I’ll head to bed. What a day! Sofia, clean up here and then you can go to bed too.’
He left the office so quickly she didn’t get a chance to ask about the phone call. Now she was sure it was the worst birthday she’d ever had.
Then she thought of the laptop in her bedroom. She decided to at least send an email to her parents. She couldn’t use the desktop computer; all the outgoing email was censored by Bosse. She didn’t even dare to think about using Oswald’s computer, which was the only exception.
Benjamin wasn’t in their room when she arrived. She took the laptop from the drawer as it was, wrapped in the sheet, and dashed up the stairs with the bundle in her arms. If anyone asked she could say that they were installing new electronics in the office, which certainly wouldn’t be a lie. Curious eyes stared at her here and there, but no one said anything.
She plugged the charger into the wall outlet behind the desk, so nervous that her fingers trembled as she logged in; she was thinking of what Oswald had said about the traitor, how he would have a computer or phone hidden. She thought about locking the office but worried that Oswald might come back.
The login took forever; she hadn’t used the laptop for so long that the screen was full of irritating pop-up notices.
When she finally accessed her email, she found a new message from her parents. They had called, but the guard who answered had told them she was busy.
She wrote and wrote: she was fine but missed them. Yes, her birthday had been nice. She had been celebrated and received presents and everything.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Her anxiety grew and grew, driving her on. Just as she clicked ‘send’, she heard a noise: the familiar creak as the door opened. She inwardly let out a long string of curse words, but there was nothing she could do. No chance of hiding the laptop.
And there he stood in the doorway. Not Oswald but Benjamin. Darling, wonderful Benjamin. She had never been so happy to see him, yet the tears came pouring forth. The dam holding back all the day’s frustrations burst, and she sat there crying until her tears splashed onto the keyboard.
Benjamin looked at her in horror.
‘Sofia, what’s wrong? What happened?’
Now she noticed that he was holding a bouquet of flowers, drooping willowherb he must have picked on the blueberry outing. But still.
He came over to embrace her.
‘I just came to get you. Happy birthday!’
Only then did he notice the laptop.
‘Did you get an extra computer?’
She shook her head and told him about the secret in her dresser drawer.
‘It’s been like one last connection with the world, you know, so Mom and Dad don’t start to worry.’
Benjamin looked at her for a moment and laughed.
‘You’re too damn funny.’
‘So what do we do? About the laptop, I mean.’
‘We’ll keep it in the dresser,’ he said. ‘It might come in handy.’
They went to the yard to unwind for a bit before they went to bed. There was still a bit of light in the sky, and the dew had begun to gather. The air was cool and a little raw. It would soon be autumn. She didn’t even want to think about it. The storms, the wind, the thunder, and that thick fog. Autumn on the island didn’t feel even the slightest bit exciting anymore.
‘It will get better,’ Benjamin said, pulling her closer.
‘Are you reading my mind?’
‘No, but I think everyone is feeling the same right now. It started with that bloody newspaper article. We’ve been making no progress since then. But we have to remember why we’re here. That ViaTerra is the way out.’
‘Benjamin, I don’t think I can handle another autumn and winter out here. Not if things keep on the way they have been.’
‘It will get better,’ he said firmly. ‘At least it can’t get any worse, right?’
The guard in the sentry box at the gate looks at me like I’m an alien. They’ve even made him wear some sort of uniform, a black blazer and tie.
The iron gate is massive and the wall is higher than it looked from above. This place isn’t easy to get into. I wonder what the old man is so scared of, why he has to hide away like this.
But he’s filthy rich, of course, and probably wants to feel secure here among all the snobs of the Riviera.
‘What do you want?’ the guard asks. In French, naturally.
But I understand. I’ve already begun to pick up the language.
‘I want you to tell Henrik I’m here,’ I respond in English.
‘And who are you?’ he asks, still in French.
He looks like he can’t believe his eyes. A dirty, long-haired teenager wants to talk to the Count? His tiny brain simply can’t put it together.
‘Fredrik from Fog Island.’ I hate that I have to use my old name, but it can’t be helped. ‘You can tell him that Fredrik from Fog Island is here and wants to see him,’ I say.
He nods, then picks up the phone and pushes a button.
There is a lengthy silence. At first I think he’s going to hang up and pretend the Count isn’t home, but then he starts babbling in French. He sounds servile and apologetic.
Then he doesn’t say anything for a long time and glances up at me, uneasy. He slowly puts down the receiver.
‘He’s on his way,’ he says at last.