He opened the door at her first knock and moved aside to let her in without a word. She went inside and then just stood there in her nightgown, her eyes fixed on his, without speaking. His eyes silently asked a question, and she replied by taking his hand.

For a short blessed time that night she was able to forget the pain in her heart.

Chapter 39

Kjell felt strangely agitated after the meeting with his father. For all these years he had successfully managed to hold on to his hatred. It had been so easy to see only the negative, to focus on all the mistakes that Frans had made during his childhood. But maybe things weren’t really so black and white after all. He shook himself in an attempt to dismiss that idea. It was so much easier not to see any grey areas, to claim there was only right and wrong. But today Frans had seemed so old and frail. And for the first time it struck Kjell that his father wasn’t going to live for ever. One day he would be gone, and then Kjell would be forced to look at himself in the mirror. Deep inside, he knew that his hatred burned as strongly as it did because he still had the possibility of reaching out his hand, of taking the first step towards reconciliation. He didn’t want to do that. Had no desire to do that. But the possibility existed nonetheless, and it gave him a feeling of power. When his father died, it would be too late. Then Kjell would have only a life of hatred left. Nothing else.

His hand trembled slightly as he picked up the phone to make a few calls. Of course Erica had said that she would contact the authorities to check if there were any records on Hans, but he wasn’t used to relying on anybody else. He might as well do it himself. But an hour later, his phone calls to various Swedish and Norwegian agencies had drawn a blank. Having only a name and an approximate age to go on made it difficult, but there was bound to be a way. He hadn’t yet exhausted all the possibilities, and he had managed to find out enough to convince him that the boy hadn’t stayed in Sweden. So it was most likely that Hans had returned to his homeland when the war ended and he was no longer in danger.

Kjell reached for the folder containing the articles and suddenly realized that he had forgotten to fax Olavsen’s photograph to Eskil Halvorsen. He picked up the phone again to call the man and get his fax number.

‘I’m afraid that I haven’t found anything yet,’ said Halvorsen as soon as he heard who was calling. He listened as Kjell explained the reason for his call, then said, ‘Yes, a photo might be helpful. You can fax it to my office at the university.’

Kjell jotted down the number and faxed the article which had the clearest picture of Hans Olavsen. Then he sat down at his desk again. He was hoping that Erica’s research would prove more fruitful, since he felt as if he’d come to a dead end.

Just at that moment the phone rang.

‘Grandpa is here!’ Per shouted towards the living room, and Carina came out to join them in the hall.

‘Could I come in for a moment?’ asked Frans.

Carina noticed that he didn’t seem himself and it worried her. Not that she’d ever had especially warm feelings for Kjell’s father, but she was grateful to him for what he had done for her and Per recently. ‘Of course, come on in,’ she said, leading the way to the kitchen. Noticing that he was studying her intently, she replied to his unspoken question: ‘Not a drop since the last time you were here. Per can vouch for me.’

Per nodded and sat down across from Frans at the kitchen table. The look that he gave his grandfather bordered on hero worship.

‘Looks like your hair is starting to grow out,’ said Frans with amusement, patting the stubble on his grandson’s head.

‘I guess so,’ said Per, embarrassed, but then he ran his own hand over his scalp, looking pleased.

‘That’s good,’ said Frans. ‘That’s good.’

Carina gave him a warning look as she spooned coffee into the filter. He nodded faintly, to confirm that he wasn’t about to discuss politics.

When the coffee was ready and Carina had sat down at the table with them, she turned to him with an enquiring look. He stared down at his coffee cup. She thought again how tired he seemed. Even though she didn’t approve of the causes he espoused, he had always seemed to her the epitome of strength. Right now he was not at all his usual self.

‘I’ve opened a bank account in Per’s name,’ he said at last, not meeting their eyes. ‘He’ll have access to it when he turns twenty-five. I’ve already deposited a large sum in there.’

‘Where did you get -’ Carina started to say, but Frans held up his hand and went on.

‘For reasons that I can’t go into at the moment, the account and the money are not with a Swedish bank but a financial institution in Luxemburg.’

Carina raised an eyebrow, but she wasn’t entirely surprised. Kjell had always claimed that his father had money stashed away somewhere, from some of the criminal activities that had landed him in prison so many times in the past.

‘But why now?’ she asked, looking at him.

At first Frans didn’t seem willing to answer the question, but finally he said, ‘If anything happens to me, I want to have this all arranged.’

Carina said nothing. She didn’t want to know anything more.

‘Cool,’ said Per. ‘How much dosh do I get?’

‘Per!’ exclaimed Carina, glaring at her son, who merely shrugged.

‘A lot,’ said Frans drily. ‘But even though the account is in your name, there are certain restrictions. For one thing, you can’t access the money until you’re twenty-five.’ He held up an admonitory finger. ‘And I’ve also set it up so that you can’t access it until your mother decides that you’re mature enough to handle money and grants her permission. And that condition holds, even after you turn twenty-five. If she doesn’t trust you to do something sensible with the funds, you won’t get a cent of it. Do you understand?’

Per muttered something but accepted what Frans had said without protest.

Carina didn’t know what to make of all this. There was something in Frans’s manner, something in his voice, that made her uneasy. At the same time, she felt an enormous sense of gratitude towards him, on Per’s behalf. She wasn’t going to worry about where the money had come from. Frans must have acquired it a long time ago, and if the money could help Per in the future, she wasn’t about to quibble.

‘What do I do about Kjell?’ she asked.

Now Frans raised his head and fixed his eyes on her. ‘Kjell isn’t to know anything about this until the day that Per gets the money. Promise me that you won’t say anything to him! That goes for you too, Per.’ He gave his grandson a stern look. ‘That’s my only request. That your father doesn’t find out anything about this until after the event.’

‘Okay. Pappa doesn’t need to know about this,’ said Per, delighted to be asked to keep a secret from his father.

Then Frans said in a slightly calmer voice: ‘I know you’re probably going to be punished for assaulting that boy. Now I want you to listen to what I’m going to tell you.’ He forced Per to meet his eyes. ‘You’re going to accept your punishment. They’ll probably send you to a home for delinquents. Stay out of trouble, don’t get mixed up in any shit while you’re there. Just do your time without causing any problems and afterwards don’t do anything else stupid. Do you hear me?’

He spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly, and every time Per seemed about to look away, Frans forced him to meet his gaze again.

‘I’m telling you right now that you don’t want to have the kind of life I’ve had. My life has been shit, from beginning to end. The only thing that has ever mattered to me is you and your father, even though he’d never believe that. It’s true though. So promise me that you’ll keep out of trouble. Promise me that!’