Хеннинг Манкелль - After the Fire

Eventually I lay back down on the sofa and dozed off, even though I really didn’t want to. When she woke up I wanted to be sitting here so that I could tell her I hadn’t slept a wink. I hoped that would arouse her sympathy.

I came back to life every fifteen minutes or so, in a state somewhere between sleep and drowsiness. When I heard the alarm clock in her bedroom, immediately followed by the sound of the radio, I sat up, combed my hair and waited. She opened the door softly, so as not to wake me. It was six o’clock. She was wearing her dressing gown. She nodded when she saw me sitting there; I nodded back as she disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sound of running water. When she came out she had a towel wrapped around her hair. She went back into the bedroom; I stayed where I was. It was still dark outside.

She was dressed when she reappeared.

‘I thought you’d be asleep since you were so tired,’ she said. ‘But you’re up and dressed already.’

‘I haven’t slept,’ I said. ‘I didn’t even get undressed.’

‘Have you been sitting on the sofa all night?’

‘I lay down from time to time.’

She shook her head and looked worried.

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘At least I’ve had peace and quiet here. Nobody knows where I am.’

‘Not getting any sleep isn’t going to help.’

‘Sleeping isn’t going to help either.’

She went into the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. I waited on the sofa until she said the coffee was ready. I was hungry but only had a cup of coffee. She tried to persuade me to have a sandwich, but I refused.

She got up, taking her coffee with her.

‘I’ve got a couple of things to do,’ she said. ‘I’ll be leaving in half an hour.’

When she had gone into her study I quickly made a sandwich while trying to work out how I could stay in the apartment. I didn’t want to go back to the island.

Lisa came out of her study. She topped up her cup, went over to the window and looked out towards the inlet; the sky was growing lighter now.

‘Why did you come here?’ she asked. Her voice was different, deeper. She was still gazing out of the window.

‘I tried to explain last night; perhaps I didn’t do a very good job.’

‘You’ve been snooping,’ she said, turning to face me.

I felt my pulse rate increase, as if I had avoided a car accident by the narrowest of margins.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

She put down her coffee cup on the draining board; I could see her hand trembling.

‘You’ve been in my study. You’ve been going through my papers, and you’ve opened my wardrobe. I can’t say exactly what you’ve done or why, but I can tell when something has changed.’

‘I’m not in the habit of going through other people’s things,’ I said huffily. ‘Whatever you might think, you’re wrong.’

Lisa looked tired. She shook her head slowly.

‘I’d like you to leave now. I thought you really needed help and a place to sleep, but now I don’t know who you are or why you’ve come here.’

‘I can assure you I haven’t been in your study.’

She shook her head again. I didn’t know how she had discovered what I had been up to during the night, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to convince her that she was mistaken.

‘In that case I’ll go,’ I said, getting to my feet.

She followed me into the hallway and watched as I put on my jacket and my wellington boots. I opened the door, then asked her, ‘Who’s the man in this picture?’

‘Robert Capa. He’s a photographer; I admire him more than any other journalist or photographer. He died when he was reporting from a war zone in Asia; he stepped on a landmine.’

I made my mind up there and then, with one foot outside her door.

‘One day you must tell me why there’s an embroidered cloth in your wardrobe with the Swedish flag and a swastika on it. Who made it? You must tell me all about it, but not right now — you’re obviously in a hurry.’

I didn’t wait for her response because I didn’t want to hear it. I hurried down the stairs, and as I reached the wheeled walker outside the old man’s apartment, I heard Lisa’s door slam.

I got in the car, lowered the back of my seat and fell asleep almost immediately.

When I woke up two hours later I was frozen through and felt sick. I took my pulse. It was much too rapid: ninety-seven. I got out of the car and walked around for a couple of minutes to shake some life into my body.

A little while later I parked by the bank and waited in the car until the liquor store opened. I bought half-bottles of vodka so that I could slip them into my jacket pocket, and ten cans of beer to ease the hangover that was bound to follow.

I went to a small cafe I had never been to before and had a couple of sandwiches. Since I was alone I added a good slug of vodka to my coffee cup. I saw no reason to wait until I got home. There were no police checks on the short stretch of road between here and the harbour. I wasn’t used to drinking spirits, so I felt the effects immediately. A warming sense of calm flooded my body.

I left the cafe, got into my car and had another swig of vodka before I set off. I was drunk, but I was still capable of keeping the car on the road and avoiding a collision with the oncoming traffic. I felt extremely cheerful. I was convinced that my parting comment to Lisa had hit home.

I parked outside Oslovski’s house, which still appeared to be deserted. I listened for sounds from her garage but heard nothing.

I went down to the boat with my stash of booze; I didn’t bother looking over at the chandlery to see if fru Nordin was there. The two coastguard patrol vessels were moored at the quayside. I clambered into my boat and left the harbour. A gentle offshore breeze was blowing, and just as I was picking up speed the sun emerged from behind the clouds. I set a more northerly course so that I could take a longer route home, travelling between islands with summer cottages closed up for the season. At one point I thought I caught a glimpse of a wild boar among the trees, but I couldn’t be certain. The water opened out into the wide expanse of Ramfjärden. In the distance I could see the outer sunken reefs and the open sea. I intended to head east when I had gone about halfway to the open sea; I would soon be home. However, instead I switched off the engine. I moved to the prow and fell over when the boat rocked. One of the oars slid into the water, but I managed to fish it out before it drifted away. I sat down and carried on drinking. The sun was lovely and warm. I took off my jacket.

I didn’t think about anything — not Lisa Modin, not my daughter, not the unknown police officers I would soon be talking to. I drank. Exhaustion from the almost sleepless night caught up with me, and I fell asleep.

I was woken by the boat bumping into something. When I sat up I was staring straight into Alexandersson’s face. He was leaning over the rail of the larger patrol boat, which loomed above me like an enormous whale. I looked in the other direction and realised that I had drifted all the way to the outer reefs, where the open sea was waiting. I was already caught up in the sea swell. I didn’t know how long I had slept, but I was still extremely drunk.

‘I think it’s best if you come aboard,’ Alexandersson said.

‘Fuck off,’ I replied as I stumbled to the stern and pulled the cord. The engine started immediately; I reversed away from the reef and set off towards my island. I thought Alexandersson would come after me; I was drunk, and could be arrested for being in charge of a vessel while under the influence.

However, the coastguard made no attempt to stop me. When I reached the island I ran the boat straight up onto the shore, but managed to flip up the engine before the propeller sustained any damage.