Bad Intentions

CHAPTER 30

Sejer was kneeling by his wife’s grave, shivering in the cold. His dog, Frank Robert, waited patiently while he dug at random in the soil of the small bed where nothing grew. Please forgive me, Elise, he was thinking, I could have brought a rose. But the years pass. I’ve stopped looking over my shoulder. I know now that you won’t be there. Yoo Van Chau is still sitting in her chair listening out for footsteps. In brief moments she forgets what has happened. It takes a long time before it sinks in.

He got up and stuck his hands in his pockets.

But I won all the same, he thought. I won the biggest prize life’s lottery had to offer. I found you, and I got to have you with me for many years.

Elise. My first prize.

He left the cemetery and, still shivering, headed for the riverside promenade. It started to rain. The river was more turbulent than usual. It tumbled by with unstoppable force and whipped up white foam around the bridge supports. He followed the whirling currents with his eyes; they looked like boiling black cauldrons in the water. The rain got heavier. The dog looked up at him. Isn’t it time we got going? it seemed to be thinking. It’s freezing cold.

The worst thing about losing someone, Sejer thought, is the fear of further loss. One brick falls out and the whole wall is at risk. After the death of Elise he had grown terrified of losing his daughter. He imagined that his wife’s death had pointed a spotlight on his family, and in its revealing glare the devil himself could see them and would strike again.

‘We are going to stand here for a while and be cold,’ he told the dog.

‘We owe that to Elise.’

That night he had a dream. It was evening, and he was waiting at a bus stop with Frank Robert. After a long wait the bus arrived with lit-up windows and they both went inside where it was warm. Sejer rummaged around in his pockets for loose change and temporarily had to let go of the leash. Before he had time to turn around, Frank had jumped off the bus. He was just about to run after him when the accordion-style door closed and the bus drove off. Sejer asked the bus driver to stop.

‘You’ll have to wait. I’ve got a timetable to stick to.’

‘How far is the next stop?’ Sejer asked.

‘Far,’ the bus driver said. ‘Sit down.’

He found a seat by the window. He was unsettled because he had lost Frank. He stared out of the window. It was dark outside and there was not much to look at. He did not know where he was, either, it was an unknown landscape, and he could not see how Frank would be able to find his own way back to the flat. His imagination worked overtime. The dog might get run over by a truck and would have to be carried off in a sack.

He continued to stare out of the window. No one was out in the cold and there were long stretches with no lights. When the bus finally stopped, he jumped off and started running back. He kept calling Frank Robert’s name. He zigzagged across paths and tracks and through small groves, but the small grey Shar Pei seemed to have vanished into thin air.

A girl appeared in the dark.

‘There’s a kennel up that road,’ she said. ‘They take all the strays there.’

She pointed as she told him this. Sejer started running again. He reached a building that looked like a barn, found the entrance, flung open the door and explained why he had come. A man took him to a large room. Sejer looked inside and his heart sank because he knew he would never be able to find Frank among this multitude of dogs. They were all Shar Peis and they were all grey.

He awoke with a start. He lay awake for a long time. How can I apply that, he wondered, what I have learned, my knowledge of grief and death? How much can words help? I could discover an explanation and give it to Yoo Van Chau, but that would not be enough. She wants it to make sense. What would she say if I were to tell her she had won first prize in life’s lottery? He switched on his lamp and looked down at the floor. Frank Robert was sleeping with his head on his paws.