There was still something magical about life there, about the way everything could turn on a dime. It was like they were riding on waves in the sea. Each time they came to the crest of a huge swell, about to be flung against the rocks, something happened. The wind calmed. The sea smoothed. Again. And it certainly had been rough seas at the manor in the past few weeks. Oswald’s rules quickly became law. Punishments were dealt out in a steady stream. The pile of reports on Bosse’s desk grew higher as Oswald’s fuse grew shorter than ever.
The workdays were long and sleep was a luxury. Although Sofia was tired almost constantly, she often lay awake brooding at night. She wasn’t sure she wanted to stay on the island. Her thoughts made her feel guilty and put her in a constant state of anguish as she worried that Oswald might notice something wasn’t right with her. At the same time, a voice in the back of her head told her that everything would go back to normal eventually. Back to the way it had been in the beginning. Because there were nice moments too. When Oswald said that he and she were the only ones who got anything done. Or massaged her tired shoulders. Or called her a gem. And then there was Benjamin — she didn’t want to be separated from him, but he would never betray Oswald and leave the island with her. It was complicated.
It’s this damn lack of sleep, she thought. Everything will be better once we can sleep at night. But sleep didn’t seem to be on the horizon for those on Oswald’s agenda.
He had become terribly irritable and the more trivial the thing he was annoyed by, the more vulgar he was in expressing himself.
‘Can you tell that fucking cook to stop putting parsley on my fish?’
Or, ‘Kick Bosse in the ass next time he comes around here smelling like B.O.’
After that he would drone on for what seemed like an eternity about how the person in question was useless and incompetent. Now and then he would take a short break from his tirade, and she was expected to validate him. But sometimes she just didn’t have the energy. This, too, got him extremely worked up.
‘Don’t stand there gaping at me like a fish.’
At the same time, he would simply shrug off bigger problems, like a flooded barn. She just didn’t understand him anymore. One thing was for sure — something needed to happen to put him in a better mood.
*
And then, one afternoon, the phone rang.
She recognized the deep, hoarse voice right away.
‘Is Franz there, Sofia?’
‘Hi, Carmen. No, he’s not in the office. Can I take a message?’
‘No, it’s best if you go get him. Is he there on the property?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Please tell him to call. I have some good news.’
Sofia seldom sent messages to Oswald’s pager, but this sounded important. And good news couldn’t hurt.
Oswald appeared almost immediately. He had begun to use the speaker and a microphone when on the phone in the office. He said you could get brain cancer from the radiation in a cell phone or a headset. Sofia was thus able to listen to every conversation he had. She always pretended to be working, but her ears remained on high alert.
Gardell almost chirped when Oswald got hold of her.
‘I’ve found our spokesman, Franz. You’ll never guess who it is. Someone we never could have dreamed of.’
‘Who?’
‘Alvin Johde.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘I’m not! And that’s not all — he wants to come out and do the program right away. Before it gets too cold and nasty out there.’
Oswald and Sofia stared at each other in disbelief. Alvin Johde was a singer who mostly went by just plain ‘Alvin.’ It was like saying Zlatan — everyone knew who he was. He had become a world-famous artist and had even toured in the U.S. This had all happened before Sofia came to the island; these days she wasn’t up-to-date on all his success, but Gardell made it sound like he was still a bright star in the constellation of Swedish celebrities.
‘Hello, are you still there?’ Gardell laughed. ‘He’s promised to do TV interviews and ads for us if he likes ViaTerra. But he doesn’t know anything, of course, so he needs to be — how should I put it — indoctrinated, while he’s there.’
‘Of course, I’ll take care of that.’
‘Good. Then I’ll try to get him out there next week. Can you receive him then?’
‘Absolutely!’
‘Make sure he gets the best personal advisor you’ve got.’
‘I have a girl who’s very good. He does like chicks, right?’
‘Sure does. Maybe a little too much.’
When Oswald ended the call, she noticed that the wrinkles on his forehead, which she’d thought had become permanent, were gone.
Then he did something extremely unexpected. He bounced out of his chair and pumped his fist in the air.
‘Do you know what this means? If we get Alvin Johde, basically the whole of Europe will be at our feet, not just Sweden. We’ll have to start thinking about getting multilingual staff and everything.’
‘Incredible,’ she said, hoping she sounded enthusiastic.
‘Do you like his music, Sofia?’
She didn’t think Oswald was a Johde fan; most of what he played in the office was gloomy, like Wagner or Mahler, with a little African or Indian music thrown in if he was in a good mood. But never pop.
‘No, I can’t say I do.’
‘Right? It’s pure crap. But that’s the point. Almost every teenager likes him. That’s what matters.’
Sofia nodded. She thought about Alvin Johde and ViaTerra’s message about tranquillity and getting back to nature. The two didn’t really mesh, but she supposed Oswald knew what he was doing.
‘The whole staff has to gather right away so I can share this. Everyone. Even the kitchen staff. They’ll just have to take a break from cooking. This is big.’
A buzz of astonishment spread through the lines when Oswald told them who would be coming to the manor. Most of them knew of Alvin Johde, and those who didn’t jumped on the happy bandwagon anyway. Oswald went on about everything that had to be done before the arrival of their celebrity. Sofia’s pen flew over her notepad.
‘The garden must be perfect. I don’t care if it’s autumn. Katarina, you take care of it. You can take a break from Penance. We’ll put the caps away for the time being. And for god’s sake, no digging any ditches while he’s here. No, I think it’s best we get rid of Penance for now.’
Oswald’s cars and motorcycles had to be washed and polished. Johde’s room had to be readied, with all the amenities. He went on until Sofia had filled several pages and didn’t stop until his phone jangled in his pocket. Then he moved to the side to take the call, and returned with a smile on his lips.
‘Three days, gang! You have three days, and then he’ll be here.’
He sent the staff away but asked Sofia to remain.
‘I have to take the five o’clock ferry to the mainland to get a haircut and consult with Carmen. I’ll be back on the morning ferry. Make sure everything gets underway. Did you write down everything I said?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good, Sofia. I’m depending on you.’
She hurried to the office and typed up her notes on the computer, then copied the list and ran around handing it out to the staff. By the time she was finished there was an hour left until bedtime, but her feet hurt and she decided to stay in the office. She wondered how she would get everything done and still get any sleep the coming nights.
That’s when she caught sight of the keys. They were on the edge of Oswald’s desk, and they were the ones that opened his little wall cabinet, which held key rings to every building on the property. And, with any luck, the padlocks on the attic door. He must have forgotten them in his mad, happy rush.
She opened the cabinet. A whole row of keys were hanging there, but only one of them held small keys of the sort that open padlocks. She stuffed them in her pocket and locked the cabinet again.
The wooden steps up to the attic creaked under her feet. She glanced nervously back at the office area, but she didn’t see anyone there. One by one, she tested the keys in the locks. The first lock opened right away, with a click. The very last key opened the second lock. She prepared herself for a terrible mess. Stale air. Maybe even mould. But the air was cool and fresh when she stepped through the door.
It was pitch black. A faint hum was coming from some sort of ventilation system. She fumbled for a moment and found the light switch. At first, everything was so bright that she was blinded. But then the room took shape: the walls and ceiling were white and looked freshly painted. An enormous canopy bed held court in the centre of the room. She saw a nightstand, a large wardrobe, a couple of chairs, and a table; they all looked new and expensive. The floor had recently been polished. At one end of the room was a fancy bathroom with a jacuzzi, a shower, and a toilet. As she stepped in, she caught a faint whiff of lemon.
The buzzing had stopped, and now it was so quiet she could hear the rush of the sea through the attic window. Who lived here? It all looked so new. There wasn’t a speck in the sink or a single strand of hair in the shower. The room seemed unused, waiting — but for what? This is something he’s created for himself, she thought. But why? Should she ask him? The thought made her feel vaguely ill, and a warning seemed to hum from deep in her marrow.
This is his secret.
The raids. Naturally. This would be his hiding place if the police come. Of course he wants to keep it a secret. That has to be it. There was no other logical explanation.
*
Three days of preparation, almost without a wink of sleep for anyone on staff. But despite the crazy schedule, it was like all discord in the group had been blown away. There was no time to write reports or bicker, Alvin Johde was coming!
When Oswald’s car pulled onto the property on the third day, she was standing at the window in the office and spying from behind the blinds. Oswald stepped out and tossed the keys to a guard. Then Alvin appeared. He looked short and scrawny next to Oswald. He had bright purple tips in his hair and the rips in his jeans were visible even from Sofia’s position. There could be no doubt that it was Alvin. Think how lucky I am, that I get to meet him, she thought. It never would have happened at a different job.
And meet him she would. She would make darn sure of it.
*
Everything changed. They spoke almost exclusively about Alvin.
‘I saw him.’
‘He said hi to me.’
‘God, he’s so cute!’
The rules were forgotten for the moment. The staff were allowed to sleep and take long dinner breaks, and Penance dissolved and those in it became members of the group again. Oswald was in a brilliant mood, always at Alvin’s side. They rode around on Oswald’s motorcycles, listened to music in his private room, and even played volleyball with some of the other guys on staff.
For a while, everything felt like it had in the beginning, back when she had first come to the island. Back when there was time to gaze out at the sea, breathe the fresh air, and feel like you were part of something much bigger and more important than the boring old regular life on the mainland.
Everything will be fine, she thought. Now that Alvin’s here, nothing can go wrong.
We’re sitting in one of the three guesthouses on the estate.
He rushed me over here, away from the astonished looks of the guards and curious eyes in the illuminated windows of the villa.
I decide I like this place — the grand house, the enormous lawns, the guard and the gate.
It has style; there’s no denying that.
He’s looking at me so gravely now, trying to look strict, but the worry shines through his affected expression.
He is terrified.
Is this what I’ll look like when I’m older? I wonder, studying his worn face with disgust.
I decide that I look more like Mom after all. Thank god.
‘Fredrik, I’m sure you understand that I have to contact the Swedish authorities,’ he begins. ‘Everyone thinks you’re dead.’
‘It’s better than that,’ I say. ‘They’ve even buried me.’
‘This really isn’t funny,’ he says. ‘You’re in a dreadful situation.’
‘So are you,’ I snap. ‘I don’t think you should contact anyone. If you do, you’ll find yourself in a bit of trouble.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’
‘Because it will come out that you’re my father. And if that happens, the pictures you all took up in the attic will be released on the Internet.’
He squirms.
I think about telling him that I remember everything.
The darkness in the basement. The threats, the blows.
But he suddenly looks depressingly pitiful. I had expected much more resistance. It must be his guilty conscience; maybe he’s been expecting this moment. Expecting fate to catch up with him.
‘So you came here to threaten me, is that it? What is it you want? Money?’
I shake my head and don’t say anything for a moment to let it all sink in.
The consequences.
‘You are my father, after all,’ I say at last. ‘And all I want is a new life.’