When the five old friends returned to the Grand Hotel, the staff asked them in a friendly tone how long they intended to stay. The girl in reception looked at the items that had been charged to the rooms. Champagne and anniversary specials alternated with luxury meals, chocolate and innumerable purchases in the hotel shop.
‘The rest of the week,’ Martha answered politely. ‘Or are you expecting somebody? Perhaps you would like to replace us with the president of the United States?’
But then Anna-Greta burst out in such an enormous neigh that the receptionist quickly flashed her widest smile and wished them a nice day. Once they were back up in the suite, they immediately opened the shopping trolley, gasped at the sight of the banknotes and oohed and aahed a long while. They merrily thumbed through all the five-hundred-kronor notes, and that was such a pleasant occupation that a long, long time passed before they tired of it. In the end, they shut the trolley, put it into the wardrobe and took out the champagne. Martha looked at the others and saw what joy they radiated. Their adventure had brought them closer together, and they had had lots of fun. At the retirement home they drank coffee, the occasional visiting artiste would sing for them, and now and then there was a religious service. But they were passive occupations; the secret was to do something yourself, and you didn’t necessarily have to become a thief for that. She felt at least ten years younger since they had left Diamond House. Nevertheless, they had worked hard almost every day. Two robberies in a single week was probably more than most professional robbery leagues could manage. Then, after only a few days of rest, there had been the exciting journey to Helsinki. Even Anna-Greta had blossomed.
Martha thought about what it had been like in bygone times in rural Sweden, when old people moved to a cottage next to the family farm but continued to take part in the farm work. They felt that they were still needed. But now? Who wanted to live when nobody needed you? Society had become so crazy. By committing crimes, they had at least shown how much energy old people could have. Old people can do things too, Martha thought, and she believed that they had provided a good example of that. Contented, she went into the kitchen, took out more champagne and put it on the dining room table. Humming to herself, she refilled the glasses.
‘We must have something to go with it,’ Christina proposed, and Martha returned to the kitchen. On the way back, she went through the lounge, but just as she passed the grand piano, she had the feeling that something was different. She stopped, stared, shook her head and stared again.
Nurse Barbara lit yet another cigarette and inhaled deeply. These godforsaken unruly pensioners! The police had managed to trace them to the Viking Line Mariella ferry to Helsinki, but when the ship returned to Stockholm they were not on board. In her mind’s eye she could see them wandering about lost in Finland somewhere, or perhaps even further to the east. The friendly Inspector Lönnberg at the Norrmalm police station had tried to reassure her and had said that they would turn up sooner or later, but now more than a week had passed.
‘Don’t forget that they are five adults who can take care of each other. This will certainly work out all right, young lady. As soon as they turn up, I shall get in touch with you.’
But she didn’t want to sit there idly and wait for the scandal. She must do something. Rake’s son had already started making inquiries, and at Diamond House the residents didn’t talk about anything else. She had asked around among the remaining pensioners, but she wasn’t able to get any indication of where the choir gang had gone.
‘Nobody runs away without cause,’ said one old lady, wiggling her false teeth.
‘The Christmas tree decorations, that was the last straw,’ grumbled another. ‘You should never be niggardly. Then people will turn against you. By the way, when will we get back buns with the coffee?’
‘If we don’t get Danish pastries or buns, then we might disappear too,’ ninety-year-old Elsa chipped in with a cunning grin. ‘And why don’t you serve traditional Lent buns? I like them with lots of cream and almond paste.’
Nurse Barbara couldn’t understand what had happened. It had always been so calm and pleasant at Diamond House. Everyone had sat in their armchairs all day and watched TV. Now they were all grumbling. Barbara was very worried about Martha, Rake and the others. She couldn’t fathom how they had managed to get out of the retirement home. They must have had outside help, perhaps from their children. Their kids, yes. Rake’s son had phoned from his ship and sworn and bawled her out, so she couldn’t count on him. But perhaps Christina’s children might help her? Nurse Barbara decided to phone them. She couldn’t manage this on her own any longer.