Åsa Larsson - Sun Storm aka The Savage Altar

“That’s a nice dog you’ve got,” said Rebecka, making an effort to keep her voice calm.

Sanna drew back her hand.

“Yes,” she said. “Virku. The girls love her. We got her from a Sami lad we know. His father wasn’t looking after her properly. Not when he was drinking, at any rate. But he didn’t manage to ruin her. She’s such a happy dog, and so obedient. And she really loves Sara, did you notice that? How she keeps putting her head on Sara’s knee. It’s really nice, because the girls have been so unlucky with pets over the last year or so.”

“Oh?”

“Yes-well, I don’t know if ‘unlucky’ is the right word. Sometimes they’re just so irresponsible. I don’t know what it is with them. Last spring the rabbit escaped because Sara hadn’t shut the cage door properly. And she just refused to admit it was her fault. Then we got a cat. And in the autumn that disappeared. Although that was nothing to do with Sara, of course. That’s just the way it is with cats that live outside. It probably got run over or something. We’ve had gerbils that have disappeared as well. I daren’t think where they’ve gone. They’re probably living in the walls and under the floor, slowly but surely chewing the house to bits. But Sara and Lova, they drive me mad. Like before, when Lova got soap and washing-up liquid all over herself and the dog. And Sara just sits there watching, not taking any responsibility. I just can’t cope. Lova’s always making a mess. Anyway, let’s talk about something less depressing.”

“Just look at the Aurora Borealis,” said Rebecka, leaning forward over the steering wheel and glancing up at the sky.

“It’s been amazing this winter. It’s because there are storms on the sun, I’m sure that’s why. Doesn’t it make you want to move back up here?”

“No, maybe-oh, I don’t know!”

Rebecka laughed.

The Crystal Church could be seen in the distance. It looked like a spaceship, hovering in the sky above the streetlights. Soon the houses were much closer together as the country road turned into an urban street. Rebecka dipped her headlights.

“Are you happy down there?” asked Sanna.

“I’m nearly always working,” answered Rebecka.

“What about the people, though?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel at home with them, if that’s what you’re asking. It feels as if I’m moving away from simple relationships all the time. You learn to look in the right direction when you drink a toast, and to write and say thank you for inviting me within the accepted time limit, but you can’t hide who you are. So you feel just a little bit like an outsider all the time. And you always feel a little bit resentful of society people, the ones with money. You never really know what they think of you. They’re so bloody nice to everybody, whether they like a person or not. At least up here you know where you are with people.”

“Do you?” asked Sanna.

They fell silent, each lost in her own thoughts. They passed the churchyard and approached a garage with a snack bar.

“Shall we get something to drink?” suggested Rebecka.

Sanna nodded and Rebecka pulled in. They sat in the car without saying a word. Neither of them made a move to get out and buy something, and neither of them looked at the other.

“You should never have moved,” said Sanna unhappily.

“You know why I moved,” said Rebecka, turning her head away so that Sanna couldn’t see her face.

“I think you were the only person Viktor really ever loved, did you know that?” Sanna burst out. “I don’t think he ever got over you. If you’d stayed…”

Rebecka spun around. Rage flared up in her like a burning torch. She was trembling and shaking, and the words that came out of her mouth were broken and jerky. But they came out. She couldn’t stop them.

“Just stop right there,” she screamed. “Just shut the fuck up and we’ll get this sorted out once and for all.”

A woman with an overweight Labrador retriever on a lead stopped dead when she heard Rebecka’s scream, and she peered curiously into the car.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Rebecka went on, without lowering her voice. “Viktor was never in love with me, he was never even keen on me. I never want to hear a single word about it again. I don’t intend to take any responsibility for the fact that he and I didn’t end up together. And I certainly don’t intend to take responsibility for the fact that he was murdered. You’re not fucking right in the head if that’s what you’ve come up with. Please feel free to carry on living in your parallel universe, but leave me out of it.”

She fell silent and pounded on the side window. Then she banged her head with both hands. The woman with the dog looked alarmed, took a step backwards and disappeared.

For God’s sake. I must calm down, thought Rebecka. I’m in no fit state to drive the car. I’ll have us off the road.

“That’s not what I meant,” whined Sanna. “I’ve never blamed you for anything. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

“What for? Viktor’s murder?”

Something inside Rebecka stopped and pricked up its ears.

“Everything,” mumbled Sanna. “The fact that you were forced to move away. Everything!”

“Pack it in!” spat Rebecka, filled with a new rage that swept away the shaking and turned her legs to ice and iron. “I have no intention of sitting here, patting you on the shoulder and telling you none of it was your fault. I’ve done that a hundred times already. I was an adult. I made my choice and I took the consequences.”

“Yes,” said Sanna obediently.

Rebecka started the car and screeched out onto Malmvägen. Sanna raised her hands to her mouth as an oncoming car tooted angrily at them. From Hjalmar Lundbohmsvägen they could see the mining company’s offices glowing in front of the mine. Rebecka was struck by the fact that they no longer seemed so big. When she used to live in the town, the offices had always been massive. They passed the town hall with its stiff tiled façade, its remarkable clock tower outlined against the sky like a black steel skeleton.

What I said was true, thought Rebecka. He was never in love with me. Although I can understand everybody thinking he was. That’s what we let them think, Viktor and me. It began that very first summer. During the summer church with Thomas Söderberg in Gällivare.

I n the end there are eleven young people attending the summer church. They are to live, work and study the Bible together for three weeks. Pastor Thomas Söderberg and his wife, Maja, are leading the group. Maja is pregnant. She has long, shiny hair, doesn’t wear makeup and always looks so sweet and cheerful. But sometimes Rebecka sees her move to one side and press her fist into the small of her back. And sometimes Thomas puts his arms around her and says:

“We can manage without you. Go and lie down and have a little rest.”

She usually looks at him with relief and gratitude. It’s hard work, being the unpaid wife of a pastor.

Maja’s sister, Magdalena, is there too, helping out. She does everything quickly, like a cheerful mouse. She can play the guitar, and teaches them hymns.

Viktor and Sanna are among the eleven. Everyone notices them straightaway. They are very much alike. They both have long, fair hair. Sanna’s is naturally curly. Her snub nose and big eyes give her face a doll-like expression .

She’ll still look like a child when she’s eighty, thinks Rebecka, and forces herself not to stare.

Sanna is the only one of the young people who is a committed Christian. She’s only seventeen, and has a small child with her. Sara, who is three months old.