As she leaned over the dishes, with tears dripping into the dirty water, she felt a hand on her shoulder. A comforting hand. She didn’t turn around. If she did, she knew she’d find no one there.

8

Paula stretched out her arms in bed, and her hand happened to touch Johanna’s hair. She left her hand lying there, even though it made her uneasy. Over the past few months they had felt awkward about touching each other. It no longer came naturally, and they’d had to make conscious decisions to express themselves physically. They had made love to each other, but it had felt so strange.

In fact, it had been going on longer than a few months. If Paula were to be completely honest, it had started when Leo was born. They had both longed for him, and fought to have him. They thought that having a child would make their relationship stronger. And in one sense it had, but in other ways it had not. Paula didn’t think she had personally changed very much; Johanna on the other hand had immersed herself in the role of mother. And lately she’d started to act as if she were superior in some way. It seemed as if Paula didn’t count any more, or at least that Johanna counted more, since she was the one who had given birth to Leo. She was Leo’s biological mother, while the baby possessed none of Paula’s genes. All she could give him was the love that she’d felt for him ever since he was inside Johanna’s womb. A love that had grown a thousand fold after he was born and Paula held him in her arms. She felt that she was as much Leo’s mother as Johanna was. The problem was that Johanna didn’t share this feeling, even though she refused to admit it.

Paula could hear her mother bustling about in the kitchen as she talked to Leo. They were really very lucky. Rita was a morning person, and she was happy to get up early so that Paula and Johanna could have a lie-in. And now that the ongoing murder investigation was making it hard for Paula to work only part-time, Rita had willingly stepped in to help. To everyone’s amazement, Bertil had also shown himself ready to lend a hand. But lately Johanna had begun criticizing the way Rita took care of their son. In her opinion, she was the only one who knew how to care for Leo properly.

With a sigh, Paula swung her legs over the side of the bed. Johanna stirred but didn’t wake up. Paula leaned over and brushed a lock of hair out of Johanna’s face. She had always thought that their relationship was so strong and stable. That was no longer the case. And that thought frightened her. If she lost Johanna, she would also lose Leo. Johanna would never stay here in Tanumshede, while Paula couldn’t imagine moving away. She was thriving in this small town, with her job and her colleagues. The only thing that didn’t make her happy was the way things had changed between Johanna and herself.

In spite of everything, she was looking forward to driving to Göteborg with Patrik today. The Mats Sverin case had roused her curiosity. She wanted to find out all there was to know about him. Her instincts told her that they needed to examine his past and all the things that he’d kept quiet about if they wanted to find out who had put a bullet in the back of his head.

‘Good morning,’ said Rita when Paula came into the kitchen.

Leo was sitting in his high chair. He reached out his arms towards Paula, and she lifted him up, holding him close.

‘Good morning.’ She sat down at the table with Leo on her lap.

‘Breakfast?’

‘Yes, please. I’m super hungry.’

‘I can fix that.’ Rita placed a fried egg on a plate and set it in front of Paula.

‘You spoil us, Mamma.’ Impulsively Paula wrapped one arm around Rita’s waist and leaned her head against her mother’s warm body.

‘I enjoy spoiling you, sweetheart. You know that.’ Rita hugged her back and then kissed the top of Leo’s head.

Ernst came sauntering into the room and with a hopeful expression sat down on the floor next to Paula and Leo. Before anyone could react, Leo tossed the fried egg to Ernst, who happily swallowed it whole. Pleased at having fed his favourite dog, Leo clapped his hands with delight.

‘You little rascal,’ said Rita with a sigh. ‘That dog is getting so fat that it wouldn’t surprise me if he were to die an early death.’

She turned back to the stove and cracked another egg into the skillet.

‘So how are the two of you doing?’ Rita asked in a low voice without looking at her daughter.

‘What do you mean?’ said Paula, although she knew full well what her mother was getting at.

‘I mean you and Johanna. Is everything okay?’

‘We’re fine. We’ve both been really busy at work lately, that’s all.’ Paula looked down at Leo, so that her expression wouldn’t give her away if Rita happened to turn around.

‘I just wondered whether …’ Rita didn’t have time to finish her sentence.

‘Is there any breakfast?’ Mellberg strolled into the kitchen, clad only in his underwear. He leisurely scratched his belly and sat down at the table.

‘I was just telling Mamma that she spoils us,’ said Paula, relieved at the change of subject.

‘How true, how true,’ said Mellberg, greedily eyeing the egg frying in the pan.

Rita cast an enquiring glance at Paula, who nodded.

‘I’d rather have some bread and cheese.’

Rita slid the egg on to a plate. Ernst watched her every move and then sat down close to Mellberg’s feet. If he was lucky, he might get another helping.

‘I’ve got to go,’ said Paula after wolfing down a big piece of bread and cheese. ‘Patrik and I are off to Göteborg today.’

Mellberg nodded.

‘Good luck. Hand over the boy, and let me hold him for a while.’ He reached out for Leo, who willingly allowed himself to be transferred to Mellberg’s lap.

Out of the corner of her eye as she left the kitchen Paula saw Leo, quick as a flash, toss the second egg to Ernst. This really was the dog’s lucky day.

Having settled the twins on a soft blanket on the floor, Erica headed for the attic. She didn’t want to leave them alone for more than a few minutes, so she practically ran up the steep steps. Once she reached the top, she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath.

After rummaging about for a bit, she located the box she was looking for. Cautiously she backed down the attic stairs balancing the heavy box in her arms. The babies didn’t seem to have missed her, so she sat down on the sofa and placed the carton on the floor at her feet. Then she began pulling out items and putting them on the coffee table. She wondered when she’d last looked through the contents. School yearbooks, photo albums, postcards, and old letters quickly joined the pile on the table. They were covered with dust, and the original colours had faded. She suddenly felt ancient.

A few minutes later she found what she was looking for. A school yearbook and a photo album. She leaned back against the sofa cushions as she leafed through the pages. The pictures of students in the yearbook were all in black and white. Some of the faces had been crossed out, some were circled, depending on who had been the object of hatred, and who had been well liked. Remarks had also been scribbled here and there. ‘Cute’, ‘sweet’, and ‘idiotic’ were some of the labels that had been handed out without much finesse. Her teenage years were not something to be proud of, and when Erica came to the page with the picture of her own class, she blushed. Good Lord, is that really how she had looked? She couldn’t believe her hair style and the clothes she was wearing. Obviously there was a good reason why she hadn’t looked at these photos in a long time.

She drew in a deep breath and took a closer look. Judging by her hairdo, the picture must have been taken during her Farrah Fawcett period. Her hair was long and blond, and she had used a curling iron to flick up the ends. Her glasses were so big that they hid half her face, and she sent a silent thank you to whoever it was that had invented contact lenses.