‘I have no idea. You’ll have to go over there and ask her yourself,’ replied Patrik. No sooner had he said the words than Erica was on her feet and heading for the front door.

‘We’ll go with you,’ said Patrik, picking up Maja from the floor.

‘Okay, but hurry,’ called Erica, already halfway out the door with her car keys in her hand.

A short time later Patrik’s mother, Kristina, opened her door, looking startled.

‘Hello, what a surprise. What are you doing here?’

‘We just thought we’d drop by for a moment,’ said Erica, exchanging glances with Patrik.

‘Sure, of course. Shall I make us some coffee?’ asked Kristina, still surprised.

Erica waited impatiently for Kristina to finish making the coffee and sit down with them at the table before she blurted out:

‘Remember that I told you that I’d found Mamma’s diaries up in the attic? And that I’ve been reading through them, hoping to find out more about who Elsy Moström really was?’

‘Yes, of course I remember you telling me about that,’ said Kristina, avoiding her eyes.

‘When I was here last time, I think I also said that I thought it was strange she stopped writing in 1944 and there were no more diaries.’

‘Yes,’ said Kristina, her eyes fixed on the tabletop.

‘Well, today Patrik had coffee with Karin over at her place, and he happened to mention the diaries and described what they looked like. And she had a clear memory of seeing similar books here.’ Erica paused to study her mother-in-law. ‘According to Karin, you asked her to get a tablecloth out of the linen cabinet, and at the very back of the cabinet she remembers seeing several blue notebooks with the word “Diary” on the cover. She assumed they were your old diaries and didn’t say anything, but today when Patrik mentioned Mamma’s diaries, well… she made the connection. And so my question is,’ Erica went on gently, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’

Kristina continued to stare down at the table. Patrik tried not to look at either of them, focusing his attention on eating buns with Maja. Finally Kristina got up without saying a word and left the room. Erica watched her go, hardly daring to breathe. She heard a cupboard door open and close, and a moment later Kristina came back to the kitchen. She was holding three blue notebooks. Exactly like the ones Erica had at home.

‘I promised Elsy to take care of these. She didn’t want you or Anna to see them. But I assume…’ Kristina hesitated, then handed them over. ‘I assume that there comes a time when things should be revealed. And it feels as though this is the time. I think that Elsy would have given her consent.’

Erica took the diaries and ran her hand over the cover of the one on top.

‘Thank you,’ she said, looking at Kristina. ‘Do you know what she wrote in these books?’

Kristina hesitated, not sure what to say.

‘I haven’t read them. But I know a lot about the things that I assume Elsy would have put in those diaries.’

‘I’m going to go into the living room and read them,’ said Erica.

She was trembling as she sat down on the sofa. Slowly she opened to the first page of the top diary, and began to read. Her eyes raced over the lines, over the familiar handwriting, as she read about her mother’s fate, and subsequently her own. With growing surprise and agitation, she read of her mother’s love affair with Hans Olavsen, and how Elsy had discovered that she was pregnant. In the third diary she came to Hans’s departure for Norway. And his promise. Erica’s hands were shaking harder now, as if she were experiencing her mother’s rising panic when days and weeks passed with no word from him. And when Erica came to the last pages, she started to cry and couldn’t stop. Through her tears she read what her mother had written in her elegant script:

Today I took the train to Borlänge. Mother stood at the door and waved, but didn’t come with me. It’s getting harder to hide my condition. And I don’t want my mother to bear the shame. It’s so hard for me to do this. But I have prayed to God to give me the strength to see it through. The strength to give away the child that I’ve never met, but already love so much, so very much…

Chapter 46

He never came back. He had kissed her goodbye, told her that he would be back soon, and left. And she had waited. At first feeling confident and secure, then with a slight pang of uneasiness, which over time surged into an overwhelming panic. Because he never did come back. He broke his promise to her. Betrayed her and their child. And she had been so sure of him. She had never even questioned the promise that he’d made to her, taking it for granted that he loved her as much as she loved him. What a stupid, naïve girl she had been. How many girls had been fooled by the same story?

When it was no longer possible to hide her pregnancy, she had turned to her mother. With bowed head, unable to meet Hilma’s eyes, she had told her everything. That she had allowed herself to be duped, that she had believed his promises, and that she was now carrying his child. At first her mother hadn’t said a word. A dead, icy silence settled over the kitchen where they were sitting, and only then had fear truly gripped Elsy’s heart. Because deep inside she had been hoping that her mother would rock her in her arms, and say: ‘Dear child, everything will be all right. We’ll work things out.’ The mother Elsy had had before her father died would have done that. She would have possessed the strength to love her daughter in spite of the shame. But part of Hilma had died with her husand, and the part that remained was not strong enough.

Without saying a word, she had packed a suitcase for Elsy, putting in all the essentials. And then she put her sixteen-year-old daughter on a train to Borlänge, sending her off to stay with Hilma’s sister who had a farm there. Hilma couldn’t even bring herself to go with her to the station; they had said a brief goodbye in the hall, before she turned her back on Elsy and went into the kitchen. The story everyone in town would hear was that Elsy had gone to attend a home economics school.

Five months passed. In spite of the fact that her belly grew with each week that went by, she had worked as hard as anyone else on the farm. From morning to night she had toiled with all the tasks assigned to her, while the aching in her back got worse from the kicking in her womb. Sometimes she wanted to hate the baby. But she couldn’t. It was a part of her and a part of Hans – and even now she couldn’t feel true hatred towards him. So how could she hate a creature who united the two of them? But everything had already been arranged. The child would be taken away from her right after the birth, to be given up for adoption. There was no other way, said Aunt Edith. Her husband, Anton, had taken care of all the practical details, muttering all the while how shameful it was for his wife to have a niece who had slept with the first guy to come sniffing around. Elsy couldn’t bring herself to contradict him. She accepted the reproaches without protest and without being able to offer any explanation. It was hard to argue with the fact that Hans had deserted her. In spite of his promise.

The labour pains started early one morning. At first she thought it was just the usual backache that had woken her. But then the pain got worse, coming and going, but growing stronger. After lying there, tossing and turning, for two hours, she finally realized what was happening and managed to roll out of bed. With her hands pressed to the small of her back, she had gone to Edith and Anton’s bedroom and hesitantly awakened her aunt. That was followed by frantic activity. She was ordered back to bed, and the eldest daughter of the house was sent to fetch the midwife. Water was set to boil on the stove, and towels were taken out of the linen cupboard. Lying in bed, Elsy could feel her terror growing.