“I could come with you,” said Signe.

Nora smiled. “That’s kind of you. But there’s no need. I’ll be fine—it won’t take long. I’ll be back before dark.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m not doing anything anyway. Wait a minute, I’ll just get my life jacket.” She placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “I really don’t think you should go out on your own, after the state you were in last night.”

“Actually, some company would be really nice,” said Nora. She climbed down onto the launch, inserted the ignition key, and loosened the ropes. She checked the gas to make sure there was enough. She had no desire to run out in the middle of the sea.

Signe came back with her life jacket, climbed into the launch, and pushed off from the jetty with some force. With a practiced hand, Nora steered the boat toward Grönskär.

CHAPTER 71

As they passed the Sandhamn Sound, Nora glanced back over her shoulder. Behind her the lights of Sandhamn were disappearing in the wake of the launch. The familiar houses became small dots, quickly vanishing in the distance. She wondered if she should have called to let her parents know she was going to Grönskär. They might get worried if they discovered the house was empty. Then again, it was only a short trip there and back. It wouldn’t take long.

The sound of the engine made it difficult to carry on a conversation, so she concentrated on steering the boat as it sliced through the calm, shining water. They had soon passed Telegrafholmen and rounded Björkö on the starboard side. After only ten minutes they could see the familiar outline of Grönskär up ahead.

There was a fresh smell of the sea and seaweed. The odd yacht, which hadn’t yet found a harbor for the night, was just visible in the distance. To the south, Svängen and Revengegrundet would soon start to flash.

They were drawing close to Grönskär, and Nora decided to moor at the quay below the lighthouse rather than in the shallow harbor for small boats. Just as well to be on the safe side. She had no desire to try to maneuver the boat free in the twilight.

When they were almost at the quay, Nora cut her speed down. The swell carried the boat the last few yards.

The quay, which consisted of a rectangular block of concrete protruding from the rocks, had two iron rings attached to each side. Nora tied the boat with two sturdy knots—rolling hitches, as her grandfather had taught her when she was little. They always had spare ropes in the boat in case they needed to tie up somewhere.

She pushed back the hair that the wind had torn free of her ponytail and turned to Signe. “You can wait here if you like. I’ll just run up and have a look.”

Signe shook her head. “Out of the question. I’m coming with you. You’re not going up that dark tower on your own at this time of night.”

Nora smiled. She was really glad Signe had come with her so she didn’t have to be on her own on Grönskär. “OK. Let’s go.”

“How are you going to get in?”

“I know where the spare key is. But I think I dropped the phone outside. I’ll just have to search around. Seek and ye shall find, right?”

The flat rock above the quay was slippery with the evening dew. The damp moss had spread over the rocks like a grayish-green carpet. Nora was careful where she stepped. She could easily slip, and a sprained ankle wasn’t a particularly attractive prospect.

As she walked, she thought about the old fairy tale: Rapunzel, the fair maiden with the long hair who was imprisoned in a tower. She was saved by a prince when she let down her hair so he could climb up and free her. A shudder went through Nora’s body. Grönskär lighthouse wasn’t a place where she’d want to get trapped, however long her hair might be.

Nora and Signe made their way up toward the lighthouse. There was no indication that Signe was almost eighty. She was agile and wiry and walked easily, despite the uneven ground. As always in the outer archipelago, the vegetation was sparse: low, windblown pine trees and the odd birch.

Nora tried hard to remember how she had moved around the lighthouse while talking on the phone. She had stopped just outside the entrance when she called Thomas. As was her usual habit, she had wandered back and forth during the conversation. The phone ought to be somewhere near the lighthouse.

She groped around in the bushes, but it was difficult to see in the gathering darkness. The flashlight wasn’t much help. She walked between the lighthouse and the little hut housing the museum one more time just to check but found nothing.

Maybe she had dropped it inside, after all.

She had gone up there with Adam one last time, just before they left. They had been in a hurry, so perhaps the phone had fallen out of her pocket on the way down.

She bent down and groped for the spare key, which was indeed hidden beneath the flat stone the curator had mentioned. She undid the padlock and opened the black-barred gate.

“Can you manage all these steps again?” she asked Signe.

“I’m not completely past it yet. Come on,” said Signe.

They walked slowly up the stairs and stopped on each landing to search. Nora moved the beam of the flashlight across the floor. No cell phone on either the first or the second landing. She could have done with a second cell phone to call her own number and follow the sound. But she hadn’t thought of that when she’d left home.

Off the third landing was the blind passageway. Nora tried to remember whether she had stopped there. They had definitely taken a wrong turn their first time up, but not the last time. To be on the safe side, she had a good look with the flashlight anyway.

They carried on up the last stone staircase to the top landing, which was no more than a small circle, barely two yards across. It was from there that the narrow white-painted wrought-iron staircase led up to the lantern room. Next to the staircase was the green door leading out onto the walkway.

Nora turned to Signe. “Wait here. I’ll just climb up and have a look. I don’t want you to break your leg on top of everything else, just because you were kind enough to come with me.”

The view from the lantern room was incomparable. Despite the fact that she had already admired it earlier in the day, she just couldn’t tear herself away. It was like standing on a cloud and gazing out over the sea. It had been amazingly beautiful during the day, but it was even more enchanting in the twilight. The rays of the setting sun painted the whole of the archipelago in shades of pink and yellow, and on the horizon the sky melted into the dark green sea.

For a second or two she forgot her problems with Henrik. The beauty spread out before her gave her fresh courage.

It was good to be alive, after all.

Down below she could see the old lighthouse keeper’s house, which was now the home of the curator. Beside it lay several older homes owned by the Archipelago Foundation. They were silent and dark; perhaps people had been tempted by the Friday night activities on Sandhamn.

“Have you found anything?” Signe’s voice echoed up into the lantern room.

Nora looked around. When the lighthouse on Grönskär was decommissioned in 1961, they had kept the lamp with its prisms intact in the center. Above the prisms was a lens, carefully wrapped to protect it. The lamp flashed with its faint green light.