The Cruel Stars of the Night - Kjell Eriksson [94]
“He normally eats a banana,” Gunvor continued.
“He seems happy now,” Ann said and checked in his cubby to see if she had missed something.
“There’s a meeting next Tuesday, did you see that?”
Ann hadn’t seen it but nodded. She guessed that there was a paper pinned to the notice board.
“A lot going on at work right now?”
“You could say that,” Ann said with an attempt at a smile and took aim for the exit.
“It’s stressful here too, I have to say. Pernilla is sick and Lisbeth is at a workshop and we’re not allowed to take in any substitutes. Luckily we have an intern and he’s wonderful. Have you met him? He’s only seventeen.”
Lindell shook her head.
“Thanks for today! See you tomorrow,” she called from the door.
There didn’t seem to be anything much wrong with Erik. He walked quietly by her side to the car. Ann strapped him into the child seat and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Banana,” he said and giggled.
“Mommy’s going out tonight. Görel’s coming over. That will be fun, won’t it?”
Erik didn’t reply, but there was nothing remarkable about that. He talked, and could be a real chatterbox but only when it suited him. For long periods of time he was completely silent only to explode into a torrent of speech.
Ann Lindell told herself she had no reason to feel guilty. How often did she ask Görel to babysit and find something to do of her own accord? Once a month, not more, and then it was often about work or a parent-teacher meeting.
Now she was going to meet Morgansson for a second time, but they were not going to the movies. Instead they were going to have dinner down by the river. He had called and asked her out. Ann had accepted without hesitation but had immediately called Görel as if she wanted her friend’s approval.
Ann felt less nervous this time. She had gotten to know her colleague somewhat and could relax. But at the same time it was more serious now because this was date number two. It felt as if tonight would determine whether it would go any further.
Görel was going to come as early as five thirty. Görel was great. She had her own children, two girls, and she was straightforward in a way that Ann appreciated. No empty chatter, a sense of closeness without intrusive curiosity, and sometimes a raw humor that took Ann by surprise but made her laugh out loud.
Görel lived with Leffe. He was a carpenter and had helped Ann install windows to enclose her balcony. This was the only luxury she had permitted herself and she didn’t regret it. It was fantastic to be able to sit out on the balcony as early as April and experience the first warmth of spring, or set the table for a Sunday dinner there in September and have the illusion of living in more southerly climes.
Erik started to talk once they were in the stairwell and continued without interruption when they reached the apartment. Ann had to bring him into the bathroom when she was going to shower, because if he didn’t get answers to his questions he became inconsolably grumpy. Now he was perched on his stool, philosophizing. Ann commented on everything in a seasoned manner and from time to time threw in a counterquestion.
Ann couldn’t drop the thought of her find in Petrus Blomgren’s house. It was as if the photograph had imprinted itself on the mirror in the bathroom.
“To my beloved Petrus,” she said.
“What?”
“Mommy’s talking to herself,” she said and continued brushing her hair.
Who was the woman? Did her existence even have any significance at all for the case? Ann decided to call Sammy.
“Too bad for Allan,” Sammy said when Ann told him about the snapshot. “That’s a real oversight. But why didn’t you bring it up? I don’t get it.”
“I don’t know,” Lindell said honestly.
Of course she had thought about it. It wasn’t simply because she didn’t want to embarrass a coworker who had been sloppy. There were also other motives.
Erik appeared dragging his snowsuit.
“Play,” he said.
“Wait a minute,” Ann said to Sammy, lowering the receiver. “It’s too late to go to the playground. Görel will be here soon. Mommy has to work.”