Johan Theorin - The Darkest Room

“Yes, she was worn out… she’ll sleep like a log all night.”

“I hope so.”

He stayed in the kitchen chatting to Lisa and Michael for another hour, then helped them take their bags to the corner bedroom beyond the large drawing room.

“I’ve just finished this room,” he said. “You can be the inaugural guests.”

He had lit the tiled stove earlier in the day, and the guest room felt warm and welcoming.

Half an hour later they had all gone to bed. Joakim lay in the darkness listening to the murmur of Lisa’s and Michael’s voices from the guest room. It felt really good to have them here. Eel Point needed more guests.

Living guests.

He thought about the stories the Carlsson family had told him about the dead at the manor house. And Livia had said

the same thing about Katrine-that she would come home on Christmas Eve.

To see her again. To be able to talk to her.

No. He mustn’t think that way.

After a few minutes there was silence in the house.

Joakim closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Loud cries could be heard throughout the house.

Joakim woke up with a start and an instant thought:

Livia?

No, it was a man’s voice.

He stayed in bed, sleepy and confused, then remembered he had guests staying.

It was Michael Hesslin calling out in the darkness.

Then he heard the sound of rapid footsteps and Lisa’s questioning voice in the corridor.

It was twenty to two when Joakim got out of bed, but first he went to check on the children. Both Livia and Gabriel were fast asleep, but of course Rasputin had jumped out of his basket and was slinking uneasily along the walls.

Joakim went toward the kitchen. The light was on in the hallway, and when he got there Lisa was just putting on her coat and boots. She wasn’t smiling now.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know… Michael woke up and started yelling. He ran out to the car.” Lisa buttoned her coat. “I’d better go and see what’s wrong.”

She went outside, and Joakim went into the kitchen, still half asleep.

Rasputin had disappeared and the house was completely silent now. He put on some water to make tea.

When the tea was ready, he stood by the window with his cup and saw Lisa sitting next to Michael in the car. It was snowing lightly, the flakes glittering as they fell through the air.

Lisa seemed to be asking Michael questions; he was sitting behind the wheel just staring out through the windshield and shaking his head.

After a few minutes Lisa came back inside. She looked at Joakim.

“Michael had a nightmare…He says someone was standing next to the bed watching him.”

Joakim held his breath. He nodded and asked quietly, “Is he coming back inside?”

“I think he wants to stay in the car for a while,” said Lisa, and added, “I think we’ll probably drive down and stay the night at the hotel in Borgholm. It is open in the winter, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” Joakim paused, then asked, “Does he usually… sleep badly?”

“No,” said Lisa. “Not in Stockholm… but he has been a bit on edge. Work isn’t going too well right now. He doesn’t say much about it, but…”

“There’s nothing dangerous around here,” said Joakim. Then he thought about what Livia had said in her sleep. He added, “Of course, things have been pretty miserable here over the last few weeks. But we wouldn’t stay here if we didn’t feel… safe.”

Lisa glanced around quickly. “There are powerful energies here,” she said, then asked tentatively, “Have you felt as if Katrine were still here? As if she were watching over you all?”

Joakim hesitated before nodding. “Yes,” he said. “I do feel something at times.”

He fell silent again. He would have liked to talk about the things he’d experienced, but Lisa Hesslin wasn’t the right person to talk to.

“I have to pack,” she said.

A quarter of an hour later Joakim was back at the kitchen window watching the Hesslins’ big car driving away. He watched them for a long time, until the taillights had disappeared up on the main road.

The house was still silent.

Joakim left the light on in the hall and went back to his bedroom, after checking that the children were still sleeping peacefully. He climbed back into bed and lay there in the darkness, his eyes open.

On Monday morning he drove the children into Marnäs, then started sanding down, painting, and wallpapering the penultimate bedroom still to be renovated on the ground floor. As he worked he listened for noises, but heard nothing.

It took five hours, including a short lunch break, to finish three of the walls. At around two o’clock he stopped for the day and made some coffee.

He went out onto the veranda with his coffee cup, breathed in the cold air and saw that the sun had already gone down behind the outbuilding.

The inner courtyard lay in darkness, but Joakim could see that the door to the barn was half open. Hadn’t he closed it on Friday, before the Hesslins arrived?

He pulled on a jacket and opened the outside door.

It was twenty steps over to the barn. When he got there, Joakim pushed the huge door open wide and stepped into the darkness. The old black switch was in the middle of the shorter wall. When he turned it on, two small bulbs spread a pale yellow light across the stone floor, the empty stalls, and feeding troughs.

Everything was silent. It didn’t look as if any rats had moved in, despite the cold.

Every time he came in here, he discovered something new, and now he noticed that the floor inside the door looked as if it had been freshly swept. Katrine had mentioned something about the fact that she had been cleaning the barn when they were discussing the various buildings in the fall.

Joakim looked over toward the wooden steps up to the hayloft and thought about the last time he had been up there,

with Mirja Rambe. He would like to see the wall she had shown him again, the memorial to the dead.

Just a quick look.

When he got up there, he could see the rays of the sun again. It was just above the roof of the outbuilding, shining in through the small panes on the southern side of the barn.

Joakim moved slowly across the floor, picking his way among all the trash.

Finally he was standing in front of the far wall. In the glow of the yellow winter sun the names carved in the wood stood out sharply, their contours filled with shadows.

And on a plank almost at the very bottom were Katrine’s name and dates.

His Katrine. Joakim read the name over and over again.

The gaps between the boards were narrow and pitch black, but as he stood beside the broad planks he had a sense of darkness behind them. He suddenly got the idea that this was not in fact the outside wall of the barn he was standing next to.

Despite its being almost time to go and pick up Livia and Gabriel, he quickly went outside again. He took a few steps away from the barn and counted the small windows on the upper floor. One, two, three, four, five. Then he went up into the loft again.

There were four windows, high up below the roof. The last one must be on the other side of the wall.

There was no door or gap in the wall. Joakim pressed several of the thick planks, but none of them moved.

Dear Karin,

This is a letter from someone who wishes you no ill, but simply wants to open your eyes. This is the way things are: Martin has been deceiving you for a long time. More than three years ago he took over responsibility for a class at the Police Training Academy in Växjö; there was a woman in this class who was almost ten years younger than him. After a party at the end of the first academic year, Martin started a relationship with her which has continued until now.