Camilla Läckberg - The Drowning

‘You bullied him?’

‘We wouldn’t have called it that back then. But we made his life miserable as often as we could.’

‘Why?’ she asked, and the word seemed to hover in the air for a moment.

‘Why? Who knows? He was different, and he wasn’t from here. He was also fat. People always have to have someone to kick around, someone to look down on.’

‘I can understand Erik doing that sort of thing. But why you? And Magnus?’

She didn’t sound reproachful, but it still upset Kenneth. He’d asked himself that very same question so many times before. There was something lacking in Erik’s character. It was hard to pinpoint, but it might be an inability to feel empathy. That was no excuse, but it did explain Erik’s behaviour. But he and Magnus knew better. Did that make their sins bigger or smaller? Kenneth couldn’t answer that question.

‘We were young and stupid,’ he said, but he could hear how false that sounded. He had continued to follow Erik, to be governed by him. He had even admired him. It was a matter of ordinary human stupidity. Fear and cowardice.

‘So you didn’t recognize Christian when he moved here as an adult?’ Erica asked.

‘No, never. Believe it or not, I never made that connection. None of the others did either. Christian was a completely different person. It wasn’t just his appearance, it was… he wasn’t the same person. Even now, when I know…’ Kenneth shook his head.

‘What about Alice? Tell me about Alice.’

He grimaced. He didn’t want to do that. Talking about Alice was the same thing as sticking his hand in a fire. Over the years he’d buried all thought of her so deep in his subconscious that it was as if she’d never existed. But that time was now gone. He would simply have to endure the fire, if need be. Because he had to talk about her.

‘She was so beautiful that it took your breath away just to look at her. But as soon as she moved or started talking, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with her. She was always hanging on Christian. We couldn’t really work out whether he liked it or not. Sometimes he seemed annoyed, but other times he seemed almost happy to see her.’

‘Did any of you ever talk to Alice?’

‘No, except for the taunts that we shouted at her.’ He felt so ashamed. He remembered it all so clearly now, everything they had done. It could have been yesterday; it was yesterday. No, it was a long time ago. He was starting to feel confused. The memories he had suppressed now seemed to be pouring out with such force that they swept along everything in their path.

‘When Alice was thirteen, the Lissanders moved away from Fjällbacka, and Christian left the family. Something happened, and I think you know what it was.’ Erica’s voice was calm, non-judgemental, and for that reason he decided to tell her. She’d find out eventually anyway. And soon he’d be joining Lisbet.

‘It was in July,’ he said, closing his eyes.

Christian could feel the agitation taking over his body. It was getting worse and worse, making it impossible for him to sleep at night. And causing him to see eyes under the water.

He had to leave – he knew that. If he was ever going to find a place for himself, he needed to go away. Far away from Father and Mother, and from Alice. Oddly enough, that hurt the most. Having to part with Alice.

‘Hello! Hey, you!’

He turned around in surprise. As usual, he was on his way over to Badholmen. He liked to sit there, staring out across the water at Fjällbacka.

‘Over here!’

Christian didn’t know what to think. Over near the men’s changing booths he saw Erik, Magnus, and Kenneth. And Erik was calling to him. Christian gave them a suspicious look. Whatever it was they wanted, he knew it wouldn’t be good. But the temptation was too strong, and with feigned nonchalance, he stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the three boys.

‘Want a smoke?’ asked Erik, holding out a cigarette. Christian shook his head. He was still waiting for the hammer to fall, when all three would attack him. Anything but this… show of goodwill.

‘Sit down,’ said Erik, patting the ground next to him.

As if in a dream, Christian sat down. The whole situation seemed unreal. He had imagined just such a scene so many times, hoped and longed for it. And now it was actually happening. He was sitting here, one of the group.

‘What are you doing tonight?’ asked Erik, exchanging glances with Kenneth and Magnus.

‘Nothing special. Why?’

‘We’re planning to have a party here. A private gathering, so to speak.’ Erik laughed.

‘Really?’ said Christian. He shifted his position a bit to get more comfortable.

‘Want to come?’

‘Me?’ said Christian. He wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

‘Yes, you. But everyone has to bring something to get in,’ said Erik, again exchanging glances with Magnus and Kenneth.

So there was a catch, just as he’d thought. What sort of humiliating task had they planned for him?

‘What do I have to bring?’ he asked, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

The three boys whispered to each other. Finally Erik looked at him again and said defiantly:

‘A bottle of whisky.’

Was that all? Relief washed over him. He could easily sneak one out of the house.

‘Okay. No problem. What time should I be here?’

Erik took a couple of puffs on his cigarette. He looked so worldly wise holding that cigarette in his hand. Grown up.

‘We have to make sure that nobody bothers us. So after midnight. Shall we say twelve thirty?’

Christian felt himself nodding a bit too eagerly. ‘Okay. Twelve thirty. I’ll be here.’

‘Good,’ said Erik.

Christian hurried away. His feet felt lighter than they had in a long time. Maybe his luck would now change and he’d finally belong.

The rest of the day passed very slowly. At last it was time for bed, but he didn’t dare close his eyes for fear of oversleeping. So he lay there, wide awake, staring at the hands of the clock as they slowly moved towards midnight. At twelve fifteen he climbed out of bed and got dressed, careful not to make any noise. He slipped downstairs and went over to the drinks cabinet. There were several whisky bottles inside. He took the one that was nearly full. The bottle clinked as he took it out, and for a moment he didn’t move. But no one seemed to have heard the sound.

When he got close to Badholmen, he could hear the other boys. It sounded like they had already been there a while, like the party had started without him. For a second he considered turning around. He could just walk back to the house, slip inside, put the bottle back in the cabinet, and crawl into bed. But then he heard Erik laughing, and he wanted to join in that laughter; he wanted to be one of the boys that Erik exchanged glances with. So he kept on going, carrying the whisky bottle firmly under his arm.

‘Hey, take a look,’ said Erik, slurring his words and pointing at Christian. ‘Here comes the king of the party.’ He sniggered, and Kenneth and Magnus followed suit. Magnus looked like he’d had the most to drink. He was swaying as he sat there, and he was having a hard time focusing.

‘Did you bring the admission ticket?’ asked Erik, motioning him forward.

Feeling wary, Christian handed him the bottle. Were they going to humiliate him now? Were they going to chase him away, since he’d brought what they wanted?