She sank into her seat on the bus with a long sigh.
As soon as they began moving, a pleasant sense of calm spread through her body. The steel shell of the bus felt like protective armour. She was inside; they were on the outside somewhere and couldn’t get at her. And now she had a head start.
A few women her own age were sitting in front of her and looking at something on their phones, talking so fast their words blended together, giggling and guffawing.
Suddenly she felt old, as if she had aged twenty years on that island. She imagined how those women had spent the past two years: guys and parties, clothes and fun trips. Meanwhile she had been running around saying ‘Yes sir!’ and ‘No sir!’ day in and day out. She had nearly turned into an old woman, who had to stop herself from telling the women to keep it down. Unless you want three laps around the manor. She suspected she would never feel that happy-go-lucky again.
*
By the time they reached Gothenburg Central Station, the stress had almost lifted. Perhaps this would be easy after all. The train straight to Lund, then the bus to her parents’ place in Fjelie. It occurred to her that her parents might not be home and she considered calling, but it seemed like a bad idea. One evening she’d overheard Bosse mention something to Oswald about how they could trace mobile phone calls. It had been a breakthrough for them at the time. But how? Through Östling, maybe?
She turned off her phone and put it in her backpack to avoid temptation.
The station was full of people. She hadn’t been in such a big crowd for a long time. For a while she just walked around, enjoying being jostled now and then and pretending that she too had an important life and somewhere to be. She purchased her ticket from an agent and put a timetable for the bus to Fjelie in her pocket. Her mom must have deposited the money, because her card was working.
The next train to Lund wouldn’t leave for an hour. Her stomach began to grumble and she remembered Elsa’s sandwiches in her pack. She bought sparkling water and a newspaper at Pressbyrån and sat down on a bench to eat the sandwiches. It almost felt nice, but only almost — something was still chafing at her. The feeling that there was something she hadn’t thought of. An important piece of the puzzle that had gone missing in the chaos. But she couldn’t figure out what it might be.
According to the paper, it was June 4. The past few days had been a muddle, but now she knew. Thursday, June 4. The news encompassed everything from a political scandal to a whole two-page spread forecasting unpredictable weather for Midsummer. Her skin crawled and she had trouble concentrating. She just wanted to get on the train and be on her way. Instead of reading, she people-watched. Everyone seemed to be running around like caged mice, stressed and with no time for reflection. An older man with a Pressbyrån bag sat down beside her, fished a pear out of his bag, and began to eat it. It smelled sweet and good, even though she was full after eating the sandwiches. She smiled at him and they began to chat.
‘I come here every day,’ he said. ‘To sit and watch people. It feels less lonely that way.’
She grew warm inside from a moment of such simple and relaxed human contact. They continued to chat until her train was called over the loudspeakers.
Her seat was by the window and the early summer landscape spread out beyond the glass pane. Blue sky with small, airy clouds, birches, lakes, red cottages. Since she felt drowsy after her meal, she decided to try to get some sleep. If I focus on the goal of coming home, and not on all the terrible stuff in my backpack, it will be just fine, she thought before she dozed off.
*
When she woke up, the train was stopped in Landskrona. She wanted coffee, but hers had gone cold in the thermos and tasted bitter so she decided to head to the restaurant car. She threw the backpack over her shoulder, not wanting it out of sight for even a second.
There was a short line for the register and she floated in and out of dreamlike thoughts as she waited. Simon. What was he doing now? Had they made him help search for her? She wondered whether he had managed to keep up the façade or if he had given in to the pressure.
She was last in line, and it didn’t seem to be moving at all.
A man turned around and left the register with a tray of food.
Her whole body went stiff; all she could do was stand there gaping, trying to understand what she had just seen, because the man was Sten. His profile was facing her for a moment before he turned his back and headed into the next car, but it was definitely him. With a tray full of food. After him came Benny, with another tray. Her heart thudded against her ribs.
Shit! How did they find me?
The paralysis lifted and she hurried out of the restaurant car, waving her hands frantically at the glass motion-sensor doors, which took forever to open.
She headed for the nearest toilet, but it was occupied, so she pressed herself to the wall as she waited, trying to make herself invisible. They’re eating, she thought. It’s fine. I have some time.
The toilet flushed, but no one came out.
Hurry, dammit, get a move on!
At last the door opened and a tall bald man came out and gave her a friendly smile. She slipped in and closed the door, then sat on the lid of the toilet and attempted to organize her thoughts.
How long did it take to get from Landskrona to Lund? Twenty, maybe thirty minutes.
Staying in the bathroom was her only option; there was no avoiding it. What are they doing here? she wondered. They couldn’t have followed me, because they weren’t on the bus. And they must not have been searching for me on the train, because I was asleep for at least an hour. But here they are. What on earth is going on?
She tried to be logical, to keep from reacting without thinking things through. Well, one thing’s for sure, she thought. They may not know I’m on this train, but they’re headed for Lund and it’s me they’re after. I have no choice. Half an hour in the bathroom until we arrive.
Just as the train got up to speed, the rails thumping steadily, it slowed down again and stopped.
‘We’re waiting for an oncoming train,’ came the voice on the loudspeaker.
Soon, people would want to use this bathroom. She made sure the door was locked — and just as she did, someone pulled on the handle, gently at first, but after a few minutes it became impatient. She pictured a queue forming. No one can blame a person for having stomach issues, she thought. Yet an annoyed voice spoke up outside.
‘Have you locked this bathroom or something?’
The person must have asked a conductor, because the response was patient.
‘No, there’s probably someone in there, but there’s another toilet after the next car.’
Shuffling steps grew fainter, thank goodness, and now she just had to wait out the rest of the trip.
The car jerked as the train started moving again. Memories from the island came back to her as she sat there swaying back and forth through the curves. They formed a slideshow, starting with her first day there. But there was no warmth to the images. I feel like an escaped prisoner, she thought. I even feel guilty. Every damn day, he made me feel like this. Like I’m filthy and inadequate. But I’m not the one with issues here.
After endless yanks at the door handle, the loudspeaker voice returned.
‘We’re approaching Lund Central Station. Lund, next station. Exit the train on the left side.’
The instant she opened the bathroom door, she saw them. Benny and Sten were by the nearest exit, at the front of a crowd waiting to disembark. They were chatting and laughing. It would be all she needed right now, for one of them to turn in her direction. A single glance, and everything would be ruined.
She turned around, pulled up her hood, and joined the queue for a different exit, trying to blend in with everyone else. She spied through a glass door and watched Benny and Sten disembark, but she lingered on board until the very last passenger was gone. She could see them, far ahead. They seemed to be in a hurry and were moving quickly toward the exit.
If they were on their way to her house, they would take the bus to Fjelie. It went once an hour, so she would let them get a head start; she could take the next bus. After all, her parents didn’t know where she was. The kind of conversation the men were after would hardly take very long, so by the time she arrived home the coast would be clear.
When she unfolded the timetable, she found that the next bus to Fjelie left at four — in twenty minutes — so she would take the five o’clock.
To keep from running into them inside the station, she spent half an hour waiting on a bench by the tracks. Then she bought her ticket from a machine and wandered around for what seemed an eternity. Her body was restless, her mouth was dry as a bone, and she felt too antsy to sit down. There wasn’t much to look at — a few posters, some tired travellers on their way home after a day of work. She glanced constantly at the wall clock, but it hands hardly seemed to move, and she was so early to the bus stop that she had to stand around waiting for a long time. When she finally got on, she was so relieved that the driver must have noticed; he laughed.
‘In a rush to get home?’
She had made this trip so many times before.
Eighteen minutes, and I’ll be home, she thought. The worst is almost over.
The landscape was so familiar, so beautiful, that the tears began to flow as she gazed out the window. The open fields of rapeseed, already pale yellow. She recognized every house and every yard, and even a pair of horses grazing in a meadow.
Eighteen minutes, and everything will be okay.
Her house was visible even from the bus stop — only the roof and part of the eaves, but still. She hurried across the road and turned onto the beloved old street. She looked up toward the yard. Something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
Two police cars were parked in front of her house. An officer was standing on the street with a German shepherd at his side, and another was speaking to her parents, who were standing on the lawn.
She turned around and saw the bus back to Lund approaching on the other side of the road. Instinct and adrenaline took over and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward the oncoming bus.