39

ANNA FORCED HERSELF to eat a couple of sandwiches and drink a cup of tea, though she wasn’t hungry in the least. Tonight she would have to have all her wits about her. She went into the living room and switched on the television, which she hadn’t given to Ákos after all. She drew the line at financing her brother’s drinking debts, either with cash or by giving him things to sell off. Again there was nothing interesting on the television. She channel-hopped absent-mindedly, jumping up occasionally as though she had just remembered to do something. She put the laundry in the machine, washed her teacup, dusted the coffee table and the bookshelf, watered the heathers in the box on the balcony, though she knew they didn’t need it. She glanced at the thermometer installed on the balcony door and was surprised to see the temperature reading was two below zero. She remembered her new daylight lamp, still unopened in the kitchen cupboard. Was it too late to start using it, she wondered as she went into the kitchen and opened the box. The lamp was rather beautiful; its oval glass looked frosted. She placed the lamp on the table and switched it on, just to test it, and was taken aback that the bright light didn’t dazzle her. This must be effective, she thought. I’m going to use this in the mornings while I read the paper.

She glanced at the clock. A few hours to go yet.

Restlessness sent small electric impulses through her muscles. She couldn’t sit still.

She would spoil the plan if she didn’t calm down.

All of a sudden Anna felt a strong urge to go running. The feeling of quite how much she had missed exercise all autumn was like the pain of losing a close friend. It was the most effective way of keeping her wits about her, better than any sleeping pills or antidepressants: the running she loved so much. And at the drop of a hat, she’d traded it in for beer and cigarettes. What an idiot she’d been. She would have time to go for a short run. Just to see what if felt like after such a long break.

It would calm her down and relax her tensed muscles.

The theatre to play out later that evening would go more smoothly.

Anna picked out a warm anorak made of smooth material and pulled on her trainers. They felt snug and familiar, like the embrace of an old lover.

Very quietly Anna walked down the stairs and opened the front door. The sharp, frigid air met her outside; it felt fresh and crisp. With brisk steps she walked to the beginning of the track running around behind the suburb, and as the asphalt gave way to the soft sawdust path, she dived into the darkness of the forest and picked up her speed to a gentle jog.

It didn’t feel too bad.

At least, not to start with.

But it didn’t feel easy either. This run must be on my tired body’s own terms, she decided and continued slowly on her way, moving steadily further away from the street lights. She was concentrating so hard on listening to her body that she didn’t notice how dark the forest had become. And she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

Her heart could have stopped when all of a sudden a bright light flashed behind her and a woman’s voice said: ‘Well, well. Little Miss Policewoman. Haven’t seen you around here for a while.’