Tuesday, January 26, 1988
Twenty-six days into the new year, a harsh winter unexpectedly hit the country with biting winds and unusually low temperatures below zero. When Maja saw the blanket of ice spreading across the backyard of her residential complex, she sighed deeply. This was the third year in a row she would have to change to winter tires, but, because it was just after Christmas this time, there was no way she could afford to have her usual mechanic change them. Luckily, an auto-repair shop had placed attention-grabbing ads in the local newspaper for a lightning-fast, effective, and super-cheap tire service—and as the shop was even closer to her son’s nursery in Sydhavnen, she decided to give them a try.
This was the reality of being a single mother. You had to make money stretch.
The owner of the combined auto-body-finish and repair shop, Ove Wilder’s Auto, was masculine and trustworthy, an archetype of the sort of man who has grown up with his strong arms buried deep in a car engine. Maja gave a sigh of relief. Everything would be okay.
“We’ll just check that all is in order,” he said, and nodded to a couple of mechanics who were pointing a flashlight underneath a car raised on a lift.
“It should be ready in a couple of hours. We’re a bit busy, as you can see.”
No more than forty-five minutes later, she received a call at work.
That was nice and quick, she thought happily when she heard the voice of the man from the repair shop. But then her smile faded.
“I’m afraid this will be complicated,” he said. “We noticed that the rear summer tires are worn unevenly, so we thought something was wrong with the wheel suspension. But the problem is actually with your rear-axle housing, or rear shaft, as some people call it. And that’s a whole different story.”
Maja clenched the receiver. “Rear shaft? But you can weld it, right?”
He sounded serious. “Let’s see, but I’m afraid you shouldn’t get your hopes up because it’s very corroded. It probably needs to be changed.”
Maja took a deep breath. She did not even dare think how expensive that would be.
“I’ll pop by after I pick up my son from nursery,” she said, and noted how her hand on the desk had started shaking. How was she supposed to pay? And how was she supposed to do without the car if . . . ?
“You’ll pop by, you said? Okay, then. We close at five,” he replied dryly.
Children in snowsuits are time-consuming, so Maja had her heart in her throat as she finally rushed off with Max in his stroller to the repair shop just after five. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the open gate at the end of the street and her car protruding slightly from the shop with snow up to the hubcaps.
She had made it. “My car!” said Max. He loved that car.
When they passed the fence, she could see a man’s legs sticking out from behind the vehicle.
Strange! Why is he lying on the ground in the snow in this weather? she just managed to think before a blast caused the windows of the building to blow up in a blizzard of glass. A moment later, a second explosion detonated in a wave that ripped the stroller with Max out of her hands and threw her several meters back.
When she finally managed to get to her feet, surrounded by flames and smoke, she saw that the repair shop in front of her had collapsed and that her car was lying upside down a few meters away from her.
With her heart racing, she spun around in all directions.
“Maaax!” she screamed, unable to hear her own voice.
Then there was yet another explosion.