She holds her breath to listen again. The sound of a car’s motor is getting louder. Is Gertrud on her way back? Did she forget something?
Klara looks up along the road. A pair of headlights bounces over gravel on their way to the hostel. Suddenly the lights disappear, but the sound of the engine is still there – as if the headlights were turned off in order not to be seen.
What the hell is going on? she manages to think just before the sound stops completely.
She stands at the window, her senses fully alert, staring into the darkness and the melting snow on the window. All she hears is wind.
She slowly backs away from the window, turns around, and heads out into the narrow hall. It’s so cold that the skin on her arms turns to gooseflesh, despite the fact that she’s wearing a thick wool sweater that Grandma brought her from Aspöja.
Klara hesitates a moment before knocking on Gabriella’s door. Maybe it’s unnecessary to disturb her? Maybe she’s just being oversensitive? Maybe she’s overanalyzing everything?
But Gabi is her friend, and just as she’s about to knock, she hears Gabriella’s muted voice inside her room.
‘I don’t think we should talk more about this on the phone, better to continue this conversation when we meet Tuesday. As I’ve said several times now, I can’t do it any sooner. I’m so sorry, but—’
It sounds like she’s being interrupted.
‘Because if what you’re saying is true, we can’t risk that you’re being listened to.’
She falls silent again.
‘I’m hanging up now,’ she says emphatically. ‘We’ll meet in Brussels like we planned. Don’t call again unless you have to change the time. This is serious.’
And with that, her conversation seems to be over. Is this the reason, is this the demanding client who made Gabi seem so distant all day?
Klara knocks on her door, and it takes no more than a second before she hears Gabi’s voice from inside. ‘Klara?’ she says, opening the door. ‘I thought you were going to sleep.’
Klara shakes her head, shrugs while looking at her friend. ‘I thought I heard something,’ she says.
‘Was I disturbing you?’ Gabi says, then falls silent, irritation springing into her eyes. ‘Were you eavesdropping?’
Klara shakes her head. Now she’s annoyed, too. What the hell’s the matter with Gabi?
‘No,’ she says, giving her a chilly look. ‘I wasn’t standing here eavesdropping on your fucking conversation. Believe it or not, I have bigger things than your job to worry about today.’
They stand there staring at each other for a moment, both unused to any discord. Finally, Gabi takes a step towards her and hugs her. ‘Damn it,’ she says. ‘Forgive me, I’m so sorry, Klara.’
Klara awkwardly returns her hug.
‘I’m just so fucking stressed,’ Gabi continues. ‘There’s something very sensitive going on, or so it seems. And I can’t risk dragging anyone else into it, least of all you.’
‘But you know you can tell me everything, Gabi,’ she says. ‘Whenever you want.’
‘Not now,’ Gabi sighs and pulls away from Klara’s arms. ‘Not today. I don’t even know if it is something…’ She falls silent again, hesitates. ‘But,’ she says after a short pause. ‘If something were to go wrong in the future I’ve…’
Klara waits, tensely, while Gabi searches for words.
‘Aww,’ she says at last. ‘Fuck it. I’m so dramatic. I’ll tell you when I know more.’ She looks up at Klara: ‘What was it you wanted?’
Klara looks at her. She should nag Gabi to tell her what’s going on, but she knows it’s futile. When Gabi makes up her mind there’s nothing anyone can do to change it, especially if it has to do with her job. But it’s still a relief that this is job-related, Klara thinks, that Gabi’s irritation isn’t because she’s tired of Klara.
‘No, I just thought I heard something,’ Klara says. ‘A car outside.’ She points over her shoulder to her own room. ‘It was headed here with its headlights turned off.’
‘Out on the road?’ Gabi says.
‘Headed down towards us, towards the hostel,’ Klara says.
Without a word, Gabi goes past her into the hall and into Klara’s room. The lights inside are turned off, and Gabi goes over to the window, stares intensely out into the darkness. The only sound is the radiator knocking, the wind whining around the house. No engine. No lights.
Gabi turns around and puts a hand on her cheek.
‘It’s been a long day for both of us,’ she says. ‘It’s time for us to go to bed.’
‘But there was something,’ Klara says. ‘I saw a car earlier that seemed a little off… after the funeral… it drove down to the campsite… there’s nothing there at this time of year…’
She looks at Gabi, but at the same time she hesitates. What was off about it anyway? Maybe it was just someone taking a driving lesson. But in this weather? Of course, it could have been anything – maybe someone got lost – and right now she’s not even sure if she really heard that engine, saw the lights.
‘Okay, okay,’ Gabi says, holding up her hands. ‘If it makes you feel better, we’ll look.’
Klara sees it. Gabi is trying to calm her by making it seem like it’s ridiculous that some mysterious cars would be out here. Which of course it is. But at the same time there’s something in Gabriella’s eyes that’s not totally convincing.
*
It takes a few minutes to find a couple of flashlights, and then they spend a half hour in the snow and wind searching the parking lot in front of the hostel, but they don’t find anything. Not even any tyre tracks.
Now they’re back in the living room of the hostel, wet and frozen.
‘You’ve been through a lot,’ Gabi says. ‘You’ve been through the wringer, friend.’
Klara nods and stands up from the sofa she was sitting on. She doesn’t know if she should feel relieved not to have found a mysterious car, or worried that she’s imagining things. But it’s true, she’s been through so much in the last few years.
‘I know,’ she says. ‘But hopefully I can get some sleep now.’
She smiles at Gabi who also stands up.
‘One can always hope,’ she says.
*
The bed is so warm and soft and sleep so incredibly near that for the first time in a long time Klara almost feels content. Despite the funeral. Despite everything. Going to sleep with Gabi in the room next door has a calming effect, and she can feel herself falling, falling into the deep, soothing hole of sleep.
But just before she’s drifting away she hears it again. A sound, barely audible through the wind.
A motor.
She immediately sits up in bed, puts her feet on the floor, and walks to the window. The sound is constant. She cups her hands and peers out into the night. A small light flashes for a moment and disappears halfway between the hostel and the road. Just for a moment. As if someone were lighting a cigarette. Then it’s quiet again.
Quiet and dark. As if nothing happened.