ELLEN

8.00 P.M.

Half an hour later, Ellen was standing on Abrahamsbergsvägen looking up at the yellow brick facade, with its orange sheet-metal balconies.

The number appeared to lead to Lycke’s nanny, Mona. Presumably, Harald paid for her telephone.

Ellen had googled Mona, but there hadn’t been even one hit. It seemed almost impossible to her that you could go through life without making a single impression on the internet.

After apologising for portraying the situation incorrectly, and assuring the woman that she would now do her utmost to make amends and find Lycke, she was at last able to arrange a meeting. Without cameras, of course.

‘Come in,’ Mona said, a little suspiciously, backing up shyly in the narrow, dark hallway. She didn’t look at all like Ellen had expected. She was short and stout and considerably older than she’d imagined. She reminded her of Aunt Berg from Astrid Lindgren’s Lotta on Troublemaker Street, with her small, round eyeglasses.

Ellen tentatively extended her hand in greeting. She was almost afraid of frightening the older woman, who surprised her by shaking her hand so firmly that it hurt.

‘Can I take your jacket?’

Ellen nodded and took off the wet jacket, apologising that it was dripping and getting the hall wet. Just like her soaked Converse shoes.

She followed Mona into the living room. She looked discreetly around the room, taking care not to seem like she was snooping.

It was a cosy little two-room apartment. The furnishings were far from fashionable, with pine furniture, flowery curtains, and walls decorated with everything from embroidery to dried flowers in frames.

Ellen was surprised to see that the embroidered proverb hanging over the couch was her own personal favourite.

‘I always try to think that way,’ Ellen said, pointing at the hanging.

Without rain, nothing will grow.

‘I see.’ Mona sighed out loud. ‘The past few days, I’ve actually thought about taking that down.’

Ellen smiled.

‘But I assume you’re not here to talk about proverbs,’ said Mona, eyeing her critically.

‘That’s right. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Lycke, to get a better picture of who she is. And then hopefully I’ll be able to do a better job. As you can see, I don’t have any cameras with me.’ Ellen held up her arms to demonstrate that she had nothing to hide.

Mona looked sceptical, inspecting her from head to toe.

‘Yes, as I said earlier, I don’t have much use for your type — well, journalists, that is. You have to excuse me, but I think that all you do is revel in the misery of others. You take no responsibility.’

‘I’m sorry you feel —’

‘But that doesn’t mean that I want you to get sick — you must be cold, you poor thing. Your shoes and trousers are completely soaked.’

Ellen looked down at her feet and realised that she was trailing wet footprints behind her.

‘Wait here, and I’ll fetch a pair of dry socks for you.’

‘No, that’s not necessary.’ Ellen was unable to stop her before she disappeared, quickly returning with a pair of socks in one hand and a fleece blanket in the other.

Ellen thanked her and changed socks, then wrapped the soft blanket around her. It actually felt very nice to have something dry on her feet.

‘Would you like coffee?’ Mona asked, and went into the kitchen.

‘Yes, please,’ Ellen said, taking the opportunity to look around a little. On the bookshelf were three framed photos. Lycke she recognised immediately, but the other two children she hadn’t seen before.

‘I apologise for my behaviour earlier. I don’t usually telephone and scold people like that,’ Mona called from the kitchen.

‘It’s no problem,’ Ellen called out so that Mona would hear her through the clattering coming from the kitchen.

‘Usually, I never watch TV4, there are far too many commercials.’

‘Yes, a lot of people say that.’ Ellen smiled to herself and marvelled at the fact that so many people persisted in making that particular comment.

‘Yes, sorry. Perhaps I was being unpleasant again.’ Mona came out of the kitchen with a tray in her hands.

‘No, not at all, I’m used to it,’ Ellen said. ‘Who are the other two children?’ She pointed at the photos.

‘That’s Karl and Alice. I worked with them before I started with the Höök family. They’re grown now,’ she said, setting the tray on the coffee table.

‘Have you always taken care of children?’

‘Yes, basically.’ Mona put the two coffee cups, the lilac-coloured sugar bowl, and the milk pitcher on the coffee table. ‘Sit down, and I’ll get the coffee.’

‘How did you come to work for Lycke’s family?’ Ellen asked, when Mona had sat down beside her on the couch.

‘It was through the nanny service,’ said Mona. ‘Just so you know, I’m bound by professional secrecy. You should know how many people like you have called since Lycke —’ She fell silent. ‘I really don’t want to talk with any of you, but I can’t sit and watch how those people pretend to care about Lycke, either.’ She pointed toward the TV.

Ellen nodded, and Mona poured coffee for both of them.

‘How long have you worked for the Höök family?’

‘Yes, it must be — how long is it now?’ Mona thought about it. ‘Can it be five years? Yes, since the parents separated.’

‘Four years then.’ Ellen corrected her, and noticed from Mona’s look that she was surprised. Her chapped hands trembled as she raised the coffee cup.

‘Yes, it feels longer. In any event, I’m quitting soon.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sixty-five years old, and I’m retiring before summer.’

‘What will you do then?’

‘Yes, what does one do? Either you wait for it to grow’ — she cast a glance behind her at the proverb hanging above them — ‘or else you wait for death,’ she said morosely. ‘ I hope the wait isn’t too long.’ She blinked from behind her round eyeglasses.

She’d said it so calmly. Ellen interpreted it as her saying she wasn’t afraid of death. She wished she could feel that way herself. Hopefully that feeling grew within you, the older you got.

They had their coffee, listening to the sound of the brakes as a train stopped at the station platform below the building.

‘Were you — or, sorry, are you and Lycke close to each other?’

Ellen had a hard time judging whether Mona had reacted when she’d misspoken. She hoped it would pass unnoticed. Mona’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded slowly.

‘Very close,’ she said, carefully setting down her cup.

‘What do you think happened?’ Ellen placed her hand on Mona’s shoulder, her eyes also filling with tears.

Mona breathed heavily and turned toward Ellen.

‘I can’t understand why everyone has suddenly started to care about Lycke now, when no one cared about her before. It hurts all over when I think about it.’ She looked away.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Ellen.

‘Lycke doesn’t have it easy. That’s all I can say.’

‘Is that because her parents are divorced, do you think? Or is there something else?’ Ellen prompted her.

Mona didn’t answer, and instead poured more coffee.

‘As I said, I’m bound by professional secrecy.’ She looked at Ellen with a serious expression. ‘But one thing I will tell you, and you remember it.’ She held up her index finger. ‘Not everyone is suited to being a parent.’

Ellen was about to ask her to clarify, but Mona quickly interrupted her. ‘That’s all I intend to say.’

Ellen had to give in, for the moment anyway, and so changed focus.

‘Did you see Lycke the day she disappeared?’

‘Yes, I went there as usual at seven o’clock in the morning. I made breakfast for her, dressed her, and went with her to school. Just like I do every day.’

‘Was there anything that was different that day?’

Mona thought about it.

‘I don’t know if it was that different, actually. Fridays have never been a good day, regardless of whether she’s been staying with her mother or father. There are often conflicts, and then tennis, and yes, the weekend. I’m off on weekends,’ she explained.

Ellen nodded.

‘Well, you asked earlier if we’re close to each other. I shouldn’t say this, but I don’t see what harm it can do. The same Friday that Lycke disappeared, Harald and Chloé quarrelled, as usual. Yes, they quarrel a lot, and usually it’s about Lycke.’

‘Was there anything particular about this time?’

‘I don’t want to go into that.’ Mona took a sip of coffee. ‘What do you actually know about Lycke?’

‘Not enough. That’s why I’m here,’ Ellen said.

‘What will you do with this information, if I may ask?’

She seemed different now.

‘I want to help find her.’

Mona looked at her, but didn’t say anything. For a while, there was silence in the room. Only the ticking of the big wall clock could be heard.

‘Do you have a family of your own?’ Ellen said, finally breaking the silence.

‘No,’ Mona said curtly. ‘It didn’t turn out that way for me.’

Ellen couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, as she did everyone who didn’t have children of their own. It didn’t matter whether it was their choice or not. Actually, she probably felt most sorry for herself.

‘Don’t look so sad, dear,’ Mona said, friendly again. ‘I’ve been surrounded by marvellous children my whole working life. They’ve been like my own.’ She smiled convincingly.

‘May I offer you a glass of sherry?’ she asked then.

‘No, thanks,’ Ellen replied. ‘I’m driving.’

‘I think I’ll have a little glass anyway. Just a little one, you sleep so well then.’

Mona looked at the clock, which was over the door to the kitchen. ‘I think it’s best if you go now.’

Ellen nodded. She neatly folded up the blanket on the edge of the couch and leaned down to change back into her socks.

‘You can keep them,’ said Mona.

Ellen smiled.

They went to the hall together, and Ellen put on her wet jacket and squeezed her feet into her shoes.

‘There’s something dark about you, I can see that,’ Mona said suddenly. ‘You know that you have to deal with that darkness. Otherwise you’re going to fall hard, and you’ll do things you shouldn’t.’

Ellen didn’t know what to say, and decided not to respond.

‘If you think of anything or just want to talk, then call me,’ she said instead, handing over her card, which she had in her jacket pocket.

Mona looked at the card and then at Ellen. ‘Do you think that time heals all wounds?’

‘No,’ said Ellen.

‘I don’t, either.’