Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Someone to Watch Over Me

Thóra and Matthew stood in the corridor. She was happy with the outcome of the meeting. After asking Jakob about life in the centre but not learning anything new, they’d left the sitting room to give mother and son some time alone before the three of them had to return to town. No doubt all the things he’d told her had already been recorded in the case files and in court, but now that she’d spoken to him in person she believed his story, even if it was childishly expressed. The verdict had stated that Jakob’s explanations were far-fetched and were found to be in accordance with his impaired intellect, but it had not gone into any more detail. Was it somehow beneath the dignity of the court to put his full testimony in print? Obviously people were only allowed to spout bullshit if they were considered to be of sound mind. Thóra had read plenty of testimonies made by people who seemed hardly any more advanced intellectually, even if they were considered to be better connected to reality. ‘I’m certain he’s innocent, but I’m well aware that that isn’t enough to get the court to reopen the case. We need more, and not just the truth about what happened with this pregnant girl.’

‘Well…’ Matthew didn’t appear as convinced as she was. ‘You know, you’re pretty impressionable, Thóra. I understood most of what he said, but I wouldn’t trust myself to make a judgement of guilt or innocence if I only had his statements to go on.’

‘No, but I think I trust my self. You don’t raise two and a half children without learning a few things; I know how kids lie. Jakob is simply a big child, and I had the feeling that he was answering honestly. He might be confused, but he’s honest.’

‘He’s an adult, Thóra. A man. Not a child, even if he is intellectually impaired. Don’t forget that. Your children certainly weren’t lashing out with broom handles or biting chunks out of people.’ Thóra had no answer to this. Once Gylfi had pushed his friend out of a swing at preschool, and Sóley had pulled a girl’s hair in a supermarket, but there had been no other violent incidents. And Gylfi’s son Orri had never hurt a fly. Matthew was right, developmentally impaired adults were not children.

The man who’d brought Jakob and his mother raisin cakes when Thóra and Matthew had left the room reappeared. With him was Jósteinn, and Thóra felt the hair rise on her arms. ‘Jósteinn heard that you were here and he wanted to have a few words with you. I understand you’re doing some work for him, and you’ve already met. Is that all right with you?’ Thóra didn’t quite see how she could say no with Jósteinn staring over the staff member’s shoulder, so she said yes and the man left them standing awkwardly in the middle of the corridor. ‘I’ll be in earshot if you need me,’ he said before leaving.

‘I’m so pleased that you took on this case.’ Jósteinn smiled. He seemed to be staring at Thóra’s stomach. ‘So pleased.’ His sour-smelling breath nearly made her gag, and she stepped back involuntarily, hitting the back of her head against the wall.

‘Yes, well, I don’t know yet whether it will have the intended result, but I believe there’s reason to continue.’ Her head hurt so much that she felt like crying. ‘Actually, I feel I must inform you that due to your and Jakob’s special circumstances, there’s a limit to how much I can update you on the progress of the case. Many elements of what I find out will remain confidential between me, Jakob and his mother. That’s non-negotiable.’

Jósteinn smiled, revealing his yellow teeth. His gaze had shifted to her arm now. ‘I wouldn’t suggest anything different.’

‘How can I get a budget to you? It would be best for you to approve it before we go any further. I can also send you a breakdown of the time that’s already been spent on the investigation. Do you have an e-mail account, or access to a fax machine?’

A dry rattle that was probably meant to be laughter emerged from Jósteinn’s throat, and again his bad breath overwhelmed her. ‘No chance. We don’t have Internet or phone access. You’ll have to ask them out front whether you can send a fax to me via the office. I think they could manage to waste one single sheet of paper on me.’

Thóra didn’t like his sarcastic tone, or anything else about him. Once again he had too much gel in his hair. He really seemed to have gone to town with it. ‘OK, I’ll get them to agree to that.’ Thóra hoped his isolation from the outside world didn’t apply to banking matters. Perhaps he couldn’t pay her after all; maybe he had never even intended to do so.

As if Jósteinn had read her thoughts, he announced, ‘I’ll get my supervisor to sort out all the payments, although that might not be within his official remit.’ He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Thóra. ‘This is his name and phone number. You can call him when you want to get paid.’ He smiled again, now with his eyes closed. ‘Or to reassure yourself that I have enough money.’

Thóra looked at the handwritten details. Each letter was drawn with great care and it looked as if Jósteinn had used an old-fashioned fountain pen. But she wouldn’t need to keep the piece of paper because she was very familiar with the name, and even the number. Ari Gunnarsson . What a strange coincidence.

‘I hope Grandma and Grandpa will always be with us.’ Sóley grinned happily and put down her toast, which was sagging beneath the weight of the jam slathered on it. ‘It’s much nicer having them in the garage, instead of a load of old boxes.’

Thóra returned her daughter’s smile as she took the last plate from the dishwasher. The machine had been in constant use, apart from at the dead of night, since her parents had moved in the previous evening. Once the household was at full capacity the washing machine would be going every waking hour as well. ‘Yes, it’s a nice change, isn’t it?’

‘Orri speeterman!’ Three members of the household were awake: Thóra, Sóley and Thóra’s grandson, who was two and a half. Ever since someone had given him a Spiderman T-shirt, he thought he was a superhero. The boy still had some way to go before he could be considered a great orator, but he was starting to speak more.

Sóley opened her mouth to correct her nephew, but stopped and took a bite of toast instead. ‘Oh, yeah. You need to help me find a costume. It’s Kolla’s birthday tomorrow and we’re supposed to wear fancy dress.’ It was doubtful that many people besides her mother would have understood her with her mouth full.

‘When’s the party?’ Thóra knew it had to be today or tomorrow; Sóley had made it her speciality to let her mother know about such things with the smallest possible amount of notice.

‘Later today.’ Sóley swallowed her huge mouthful dramatically.

Although Thóra was sorely tempted to suggest that she go as the Invisible Man, with her costume being that she didn’t turn up, she decided not to. ‘Maybe Grandma and Grandpa can help you.’

Sóley agreed to this, beaming. ‘When is everyone going to wake up, anyway? I think they’ve slept long enough.’

‘Everyone’s tired after last night. We’ll just let them sleep.’ All working together, Thóra and Matthew, her parents, Thóra’s son Gylfi and his girlfriend Sigga had made space in the garage and set up a bed and other essentials for the newest members of the household. While they worked, Sóley had looked after Orri; but the toddler had kept trying to help with the move, which was met with limited enthusiasm by the movers. The garage had been crammed with stuff, and they hadn’t had time to sort through everything that had been shoved in there. Instead, some of it had been put in the basement and the rest out in the shed in the garden. The shed hadn’t been used much up to that point, but now it couldn’t hold another thing. ‘They’ll be up before we know it, demanding coffee and cakes.’