Buried Angels

VALÖ 1973

Laura tossed and turned on the uncomfortable mattress. Why couldn’t Inez and Rune have provided her with a better bed, considering how often she came to visit them? They needed to think about the fact that she was no longer young. And to top it off, she needed to pee.

She placed her feet on the floor and shivered. The November chill had set in, and it was hopeless trying to heat this old house. She suspected Rune of stinting on the heat in an attempt to keep costs down. He’d never been a particularly generous man. Little Ebba was sweet, at any rate, she had to admit that – but it was only pleasant to hold her for a short while. She’d never been fond of infants, and she possessed too little energy to spend much time with her granddaughter.

Cautiously Laura made her way across the wooden floorboards, which creaked under her weight. She’d begun putting on pounds at a distressing rate over the past few years, and the slender figure in which she’d always taken such pride was now a thing of the past. But why should she make any effort? She was usually alone in her flat, and the bitterness inside her grew with each day that passed.

Rune had not lived up to her expectations. It was true that he’d bought the flat for her, but she regretted not making a better match for her daughter. As beautiful as Inez was, she could have had any man she liked. Rune Elvander was much too tight-fisted, and he made Inez work too hard. She’d become as thin as a rail, and she never had a moment to herself. If she wasn’t cleaning, cooking, or helping Rune deal with the students, she was taking care of his children. The youngest was nice enough, but the two older ones were extremely unpleasant and quite shameless about it.

The steps creaked as Laura crept downstairs. It was a nuisance that her bladder could no longer make it through a whole night. It was especially miserable having to go outside to the privy in this cold. She paused. Someone was moving about on the ground floor of the house. She stopped to listen. The front door opened. Her curiosity was aroused. Who was awake, sneaking about in the night? There was no reason for anyone to go outside unless they were up to no good. Probably one of those spoiled brats involved in some mischief, but she would put a stop to that.

When she heard the door close in the front hall, she hurried down the rest of the stairs and pulled on her boots. She wrapped a warm shawl around her shoulders, opened the front door, and peered outside. It was hard to see anything in the dark, but when she stepped out on the stoop, she saw a shadow disappearing around the side of the house, on the left. This was going to take some subterfuge. She made her way down the steps, moving cautiously in case the frost had made them slippery. At the bottom she turned right instead of left. She would intercept whoever it was by coming from the opposite direction; that way she’d catch them in the act, whatever they were up to.

Slowly she slipped around the corner, keeping close to the wall. At the next corner she paused to see what was happening behind the house. Not a soul in sight. Laura frowned and peered through the darkness, disappointed. Where could they have gone? She tentatively took a few steps forward as she surveyed the property. Down to the beach? It was too risky for her to venture down there, she might stumble and fall. Besides, the doctor had warned her not to do anything strenuous. Her heart was fragile, and she wasn’t supposed to overdo it. Shivering, she pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. The cold was starting to seep under her clothes, and her teeth were chattering.

Suddenly a dark figure appeared in front of her, and she jumped. Then she saw who it was.

‘Oh, is that you? What are you doing out here, running around at this hour?’

The cold eyes made her shiver even more. They were as dark as the night. Slowly she began to back away, having realized her mistake. A few more steps. Only a few more and she’d turn the corner and be able to dash for the front of the house and the door. It wasn’t far, but it might as well have been several kilometres. Terrified, she stared into those pitch-black eyes and knew that she would never enter that house again. She was suddenly reminded of Dagmar. The feeling was the same. She was powerless, caught, with no possibility of escape. Inside her chest, she felt something burst.