The Boy in the Suitcase - Lene Kaaberbol [41]
Against what? It was too late. For Karin, everything was too late. Now Nina had to think of the boy, and of herself. Yet still she hesitated, child on her hip, as she peered through the dusty, dry leaves. Then she froze. A light had come on in the kitchen, and she saw someone move about in there. Then the dark form seemed to grow bigger as it approached the window, and for a moment, she saw the pale outline of a face.
Nina practically threw the boy into the passenger seat. She thrust the key into the ignition with frantic haste, and the second the engine caught, she backed wildly down the lane, careening from one side of the road to the other. The long grass hissed against the sides of the car, and once, a stone or a root knocked against the undercarriage. The other cottages all had black, dark windows and empty drives. No help to be had there. Gravel from the road whipped up against the windscreen when she finally managed to turn the car around and continued, still at much too furious a speed, down the partially paved road towards the sea. It was only then she realized that she had forgotten to turn on the headlights.
She had forgotten to turn on the lights, and the boy next to her had begun to scream so loudly that anyone would think she was trying to kill him.
Nina forced a deep breath into her abdomen, slowed the car a fraction, and turned on the lights with a dry little click. The boy’s screaming softened into sobs, but he was now crouched on the floor of the car, his arms clutched around his head. And suddenly, amidst the soft, gurgling sobs, intelligible words began to form.
“Mama. Noriu pas Mama!”
Sweet Jesus, she thought. He has a mother somewhere.
JAN HAD DECIDED to spend the night in the company’s downtown flat in Laksegade. This was mainly in order to avoid Anne. With her peculiar Anne-radar she had naturally spotted something wasn’t going quite according to plan, and right now he had to keep his distance from her, or she might realize just how much of a shambles the whole thing was. Besides, it would be much easier to deal with Karin without Anne somewhere in the vicinity.
He bought a TV dinner in Magasin’s delicatessen and heated it in the microwave of the small kitchen. Karin’s betrayal still left a bitterness in his mouth. How he could be so wrong? But it would seem she was both less loyal and more mercenary than he would have guessed. At home, in her flat above the garage, he had found only two things worth noticing: the empty briefcase and a note announcing in bold letters, “I QUIT.”
So that was gratitude for you. Normally, he was a better judge of whom to guard against, and whom to trust. And Karin had known what was at stake. Even now, he couldn’t quite rid himself of the feeling that it was all a misunderstandng. That once he got to talk to her, everything would work itself out.
But the Lithuanian hadn’t called, which had to mean he hadn’t found her. Jan felt his stomach cramp at the thought of what this would do to him and his life. The chances that it would ever be normal again lessened with each hour that went by. He didn’t exactly have all the time in the world—didn’t she understand that?
He made himself a cup of coffee and tried to watch the news, but he couldn’t concentrate. Perhaps he should go for a run in Kongens Have? But he hadn’t brought his running clothes or shoes, and although Magasin’s Men’s Department was just around the corner, he didn’t feel like another shopping expedition. He had already purchased a shirt and some underwear for tomorrow, the way he often did when he had been working so late that making the drive back to the house wasn’t practical.
The flat was cramped as a coffin compared to the house, but there was something about it that he liked. His assistant, Marianne, had seen to the redecoration, and she had hit a note that made him feel comfortable here.