Holger Munch felt irritable but also relieved when he entered his former marital home. Irritation at having agreed to this, celebrating Marion’s birthday here. Relief because he had dreaded being surrounded by old memories; he could not have known how he would react, but the house he was inside now bore little resemblance to the one he remembered. They had renovated. Knocked down walls. Painted them in different colours. To his surprise, Munch found his old home very attractive and, the more he looked around, the calmer he grew. Nor could he see any signs of Rolf, the teacher from Hurum. Perhaps the afternoon would not be so bad after all?
Marianne had met him in the doorway with the same facial expression as on every other occasion they were forced to spend time together, be it confirmations, birthdays or funerals, with a polite and pleasant hello. No hugging or signs of affection, but nor had there been any signs of bitterness, disappointment or hatred in her eyes, which had certainly characterized the early days of their divorce. Just a measured yet pleasant smile: Welcome, Holger. Why don’t you take a seat in the living room? I’m just decorating Marion’s cake – six candles. Can you believe she’s growing up so fast?
Munch hung up his duffel coat in the hallway and was about to carry the present into the living room when he heard a high-pitched squeal followed by eager little footsteps coming down the stairs.
‘Grandad!’
Marion raced towards him and gave him a big hug.
‘Is that for me?’ the little girl exclaimed, her eyes widening as she gawped at the present.
‘Happy birthday.’ Munch smiled and stroked his granddaughter’s hair. ‘So what’s it like to be six years old?’
‘Not very different, actually, it’s almost like yesterday when I was five.’ Marion smiled precociously, never once taking her eyes off the present. ‘Can I open it now, Grandad, right now? Oh, please may I?’
‘We should probably wait until we’ve sung “Happy Birthday”,’ said Miriam, who had also come down from the first floor.
His daughter came over to Munch and hugged him.
‘I’m glad you could come, Dad. How are you?’
‘I’m well,’ Munch said, helping her carry the big present into the living room, to a table that held several presents already.
‘Oh, they’re all for me! Please, please can we open them soon …’ the little girl pleaded; it was clear she felt she had already been made to wait far too long.
Munch looked at his daughter, who returned his smile. The warmth in her eyes did him good. After the divorce, their relationship had been far from easy, but the hatred his daughter had felt for him all those years was slowly fading.
Ten years. A frosty relationship between father and daughter. Because of the divorce. Because he had been working too hard. And yet, oddly, it was his job that had brought them closer to each other again, almost as if there were some kind of justice in the world. A major case less than six months ago, possibly the most serious his unit had ever investigated, in which Miriam and Marion had been directly involved. The five-year-old girl had been abducted; Munch had feared that it would only widen the gap between them, that his daughter would hold him accountable for this, as with everything else, but the opposite had happened. Miriam had not blamed him once; she was only grateful that the unit had solved the case. A new-found respect. He thought he could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at him. It was different now; she finally understood how important his job was. They had had therapy, both of them, Miriam and Marion, with a skilled police psychologist, to help them process the terrible events, but, luckily, they did not appear to have left deep scars in the little girl. Too young to understand how badly things could have ended, perhaps. Yes, there had been some broken nights, Marion crying after waking from distressing nightmares, but they had quickly passed. It had been worse for her mother, of course, and Miriam had continued with the sessions on her own for a while. Perhaps she still went, he was not sure; they were not so close that she told him absolutely everything, but at least they were heading in that direction. One step at a time.
‘Where is Johannes?’ Munch asked when they had sat down on the sofa.
‘Oh, he was on duty and they called from Ullevål Hospital, so he had to go in. He’ll try to get back if he can. It’s not easy when you’re an important person, you know,’ his daughter said with a wink.
Munch reciprocated her wink with a friendly smile.
‘The cake is ready,’ Marianne announced, entering the living room with a smile on her lips.
Holger Munch watched her furtively. He did not want to stare, but neither was he able to take his eyes off her completely. She made eye contact with him for a moment, and Munch was overcome by the desire to drag her to the kitchen and hold her tight, just like the old days, but he managed to restrain himself. Marion, who also had trouble controlling herself, though for different reasons, provided a welcome distraction.
‘Please let me open one? Presents are more important than some silly song.’
‘We have to sing “Happy Birthday” and blow out the candles on the cake first, you know that,’ Marianne said, stroking her granddaughter’s hair. ‘Besides, we need to wait until everyone is here, so we can all see the nice things you’ll be getting.’
Marianne, Miriam, Marion and him. Holger Munch could not have wished for a better setting for a more pleasant afternoon. However, his ex-wife’s words, saying they needed to wait for everyone, was like a line from a play, a cue for someone to make an entrance. The front door duly opened, and there was Rolf, the teacher from Hurum, holding a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands and grinning from ear to ear.
‘Hi, Rolf,’ Marion chirped. She raced to the door and threw her arms around him.
Munch felt a pang of jealousy as he saw his granddaughter’s small arms embrace the man he absolutely loathed. He prized the little girl more than anything in the world but, as far as she was concerned, it had always been like this: Grandad on his own. Grannie and Rolf together.
‘Look how many presents I’ve got!’
She dragged Rolf into the living room so that he could admire the display.
‘How nice,’ he said, stroking her hair.
‘Are they also for me?’ Marion smiled, pointing to the big bouquet of flowers in his hand.
‘No, they’re for Grannie,’ Rolf said, looking over his shoulder at a blushing Marianne, who was watching them from the doorway.
Munch saw the way his ex-wife looked at Rolf. And it was all over. The good feeling. Playing happy families. He stood up to shake Rolf’s hand and watched as the man he despised gave his ex-wife the extravagant flowers and kissed her cheek.
Thankfully, Marion came to his rescue for the second time. Her face now red with excitement, she refused to wait any longer.
‘Oh, please can we get that singing over with?’ the little girl implored them.
They sang hurriedly. Marion was not paying attention, in any case. She blew out the candles on her cake and attacked her presents.
Less than thirty minutes later the little girl was done, and was sitting quite exhausted in front of her spoils. The Barbie doll had been a big hit. Marion had flung her arms around Munch’s neck and, though he had expected a reproachful look from Miriam because he had ignored her wishes – again – it never came. His daughter had merely smiled, almost as a thank-you, and made him feel that everything was all right.
There was one awkward moment after the presents had been opened. Marianne and Rolf were sitting on the sofa on the other side of the coffee table, and there was pressure to engage in conversation, which none of them really wanted. Luckily, Munch was saved by his mobile. It was Mikkelson and, for once, his timing was perfect. Munch made his excuses and went outside, lit a much-needed cigarette and took the call.
‘Yes?’
‘Have you stopped answering your phone?’ an irritable voice grunted on the other end.
‘Family time,’ Munch replied.
‘How nice,’ Mikkelson quipped. ‘However, I’m afraid I’ll have to wreck your family time. I need you.’
‘What has happened?’ Munch asked, curious.
‘A 233. Teenage girl,’ Mikkelson continued, less acerbic now.
‘Where?’ Munch said.
‘On the outskirts of Hurum. A botanist found her earlier today.’
Munch took a deep drag on his cigarette. He could hear little Marion laugh on the other side of the door. Someone was chasing her around the house, probably that idiot who had usurped him. Munch shook his head irritably. Celebrate Marion’s birthday in his former marital house – what had he been thinking?
‘I need you to go there at once.’ Mikkelson said.
‘OK, I’m on my way,’ Munch said, ringing off.
He discarded his cigarette and was about to go back inside when the door opened and Miriam appeared.
‘Is everything all right, Dad?’ his daughter asked, looking at him with a frown.
‘What? Oh yes … It’s just … work.’
‘OK,’ Miriam said. ‘I thought I would just—’
‘What, Miriam?’ Munch said impatiently, but then checked himself and patted her shoulder affectionately.
‘Prepare you for the big announcement,’ his daughter said, avoiding eye contact.
‘What announcement?’
‘They’re getting married,’ Miriam said swiftly, still evading him.
‘Who?’
‘Mum and Rolf. I tried telling her that now might not be the best time to announce it, but, well …’
Miriam was looking at him now, clearly worried.
‘So are you coming inside?’
‘I’ve got a case,’ Munch said abruptly, not knowing what else to say.
Getting married? The afternoon had started out with such promise, and he had, well, what had he really been hoping for? He got annoyed with himself. What was he thinking? There clearly was no fool like an old fool. But now he had something else to focus on.
‘So you’re off?’ Miriam said.
‘Yes.’ Munch nodded.
‘Hang on, I’ll go and get your coat,’ Miriam said, and returned with his duffel coat shortly afterwards.
‘You’ll have to pass on my congratulations,’ Munch mumbled, and made a beeline for his car.
‘Call me, won’t you? I want to talk to you about something, it’s important to me. When it’s convenient for you, promise?’ Miriam called out after him.
‘Of course, Miriam. I’ll call,’ Munch said, before he jogged down the gravel path, quickly got into his black Audi and started the engine.