Dead of Winter

45 Winter 1987

Iben and Jack were standing in a corner of the dance hall. The music from the boom box drowned out their voices, but one look at their body language told Laura that they were quarrelling. Tomas was pouring vodka into a glass. Peter was still sitting at the table. His face lit up as soon as he saw Laura, but he became serious again when he realised she was upset.

‘What’s happened?’

Before Laura could answer, Iben and Jack came towards them. Iben’s expression had softened, and the burning gaze from before was gone. Jack looked grim.

‘Can I talk to you?’ Iben said.

Laura hesitated, glanced around to see where Milla was. But Iben’s tone was conciliatory rather than aggressive – and Jack was watching for Laura’s reaction.

‘OK.’

Iben gently took her hand and drew her behind a pile of chairs, out of sight of the others.

‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You’re my best friend, I didn’t mean to . . . Please forgive me!’

Iben let out a sob and hid her face in her hands. Laura didn’t know what to think. A few minutes ago Iben had been furious, ready to punch her in the face. Now she was crying.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, awkwardly patting Iben’s hand.

But Iben flung her arms around Laura’s neck, weeping so that her whole body was shaking. Laura’s tears began to flow too, and the hard knot that she’d had in her stomach ever since that first evening began to dissolve.

‘I’m sorry too,’ she murmured in Iben’s ear. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry.’

Suddenly they heard angry voices, followed by some kind of fracas. Iben and Laura ran outside.

Ulf Jensen’s truck was parked in the yard, with the engine running and the headlights full on. In the middle of the beam Jack was fighting with Iben’s half-brother Fredrik, swinging his fists wildly. Fredrik was stronger, and clearly used to this sort of encounter. He effortlessly parried a blow with his left hand, and punched Jack in the midriff with his right. Jack’s knees gave way. Fredrik grabbed hold of his collar, held him up and hit him again. And again.

‘No!’ Iben and Laura yelled almost simultaneously.

They rushed over, but Christian, Iben’s other half-brother, had crept forward in the darkness and held his sister back.

Laura hammered at the back of Fredrik’s neck with both fists. It was like punching a wall. She moved to the side and raised her hand with the intention of scratching at his eyes, but he struck her hard across the face. She staggered backwards. Her lips were burning, they felt warm and sticky.

In her peripheral vision she saw Fredrik release his grip and let Jack fall. Iben and Christian were yelling at each other as Iben struggled to free herself. Peter came running and jumped on Fredrik’s back, but Fredrik merely shook himself, took hold of Peter’s arm and hurled him to the ground.

Jack managed to get to his knees, but before he could regain his balance, Fredrik was on him again. This time the blow struck his face. The sound of the impact was horrible, and Jack fell backwards.

Iben and Laura both screamed. Laura spotted Tomas, leaning against the wall. She staggered over to him, trying to lick the blood from her lips.

‘Help!’ she sobbed. ‘Fredrik’s going to kill him!’

But Tomas didn’t move. His eyes were wide open, his face was chalk-white, his jaws were grinding.

Jack had rolled himself into a ball.

‘You fucking gyppo!’ Fredrik yelled at him. ‘We told you what would happen if you went anywhere near her!’

He drew back his foot and kicked Jack as hard as he could.

‘Stop it!’ Iben was still trying to free herself, but Christian had her hands locked in an iron grip and had pushed her up against the truck. Tomas was still paralysed. Laura suddenly saw Milla only a metre or so away, watching the drama unfold. She was holding the baton.

Laura stumbled over to her. ‘Do something!’

Milla looked at her in surprise.

‘Why? This is what you wanted.’

Laura shook her head frantically.

‘No, not this, not . . .’

Milla’s lips curled in a scornful smile.

‘Oh, come on. You must have realised what would happen when you made that call?’

Fredrik delivered another vicious kick, and Laura heard Jack let out a groan of pain. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron, and tears scalded her cheeks and throat.

Milla continued to watch, a smile playing on her lips. Laura’s chest felt as if it was on fire. Without thinking she snatched the baton out of Milla’s hand and raced across the yard, swinging it high above her head. The blow struck Fredrick on the shoulder, making him stagger to one side.

‘You little bitch!’

Laura saw the sinews in his neck contract, saw his fists clench and unclench. She raised the baton again. They were less than a metre apart, and she had to act fast before he hurled himself at her.

He lowered his chin, took a step forward. In the same moment Laura heard a hissing noise behind her, and a thick stream of white foam hit Fredrik full in the face, sending him reeling.

Peter moved forward, holding the big fire extinguisher that usually hung on the wall in the dance hall. He depressed the lever again and gave Fredrik another blast.

Fredrik tottered away, covering his face with his hands and bellowing in pain. Peter followed him and continued to spray him with the contents of the extinguisher until Fredrik collapsed in a snowdrift. Laura dropped to her knees beside Jack. He was covered in blood and whimpering quietly.

Peter pointed the extinguisher at Christian, who was still struggling to hold onto Iben.

‘Let go of her!’

Christian hesitated. He looked over at Fredrik, who was lying on his belly feverishly rubbing snow into his eyes.

‘Let go of her, or I’ll blind you!’ Peter shouted.

Christian released his sister and held up his hands.

‘OK, OK. Calm down, Larsson, for fuck’s sake!’

Iben ran over to Laura and Jack. Christian dragged Fredrik into the truck and slowly reversed out of the yard.

After a while Jack was able to get to his feet. A wound above one temple was bleeding heavily, and Peter gave him a scarf to press against it.

They went back inside in silence, sank down on the chairs and avoided meeting one another’s eyes.

‘The Goonies win the day,’ Peter murmured, but not even he managed to raise a smile.

Tomas and Milla poured vodka into plastic cups and passed them along.

‘Drink,’ Milla said. ‘It’ll help with the shock.’

Nobody questioned her.

Laura wanted to explain what had happened – it was her fault that the brothers had turned up, Milla had persuaded her to call them. Instead, she just sat there and obediently drank from her plastic cup, like the others. The alcohol seared her throat, made her cough. Milla stared at her with something approaching contempt.

‘Another round!’ Milla waved to Tomas, who topped up their cups. They carried on drinking, still without saying anything. Jack kept the scarf pressed to his head, but couldn’t stop the bleeding.

Milla switched on the boom box.

‘Let’s get this party back on track!’

She nodded to Tomas, who refilled the cups yet again. Laura leaned back, resting her head on a stack of furniture behind her. The adrenaline rush had subsided, the vodka was mixing with the wine she’d drunk earlier, and her body felt heavy. She closed her eyes.

‘Skål!’ she heard Tomas say.

Then a scraping noise as someone got up from the table, the volume increased and the music swallowed her thoughts.

Laura woke to find someone putting an arm around her. Instinctively she turned and leaned against what must be Jack’s shoulder. She felt a hand on her cheek, then someone pressing his lips to hers. She opened her eyes and realised Peter was trying to kiss her.

‘What are you doing?’ She pushed him away and stood up.

‘I thought you wanted to.’ Peter looked both embarrassed and hurt.

Laura tried to clear the fog in her head. They were alone in the room.

‘How long was I asleep?’

‘Three-quarters of an hour, maybe a bit more.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Tomas is pissed – I think he’s outside throwing up. Milla and Iben have taken Jack off to clean him up.’

He waved in the direction of the area behind the stage where there was a toilet.

‘What, together?’

Laura found this hard to imagine, but Peter nodded.

‘Milla offered. She’s training to be a nurse.’

Laura wondered whether to join them, then decided she needed some fresh air.

‘Wait!’ Peter took a deep breath. ‘Listen, I like you. That’s why . . .’

Without waiting for him to finish, Laura headed for the exit. She pushed down the handle, but the door opened only a centimetre or so. She tried again with the same result.

‘Someone’s dropped the bar on the outside.’

Peter got to his feet. ‘They probably wanted to make sure we were left in peace.’ She didn’t return his smile, and he quickly adjusted his expression. ‘I’ll go round and open it. You stay here.’

He disappeared, and Laura went and sat down. The vodka bottle was empty. She put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. All she wanted to do was to run home to Hedda, throw herself in her arms and tell her everything that had happened over the past few days. Confess what she’d done and ask Hedda to help her fix things.

Five minutes through the forest and she’d be home. The thought made her feel better. She closed her eyes.

‘Fire!’

Peter’s voice made her jump. He came stumbling towards her between the piles of furniture, mouth and eyes wide with fear.

Behind him a wall of flames was climbing to the ceiling, a living creature devouring everything in its path.