Alex Gray - The Swedish Girl

It was almost a relief to be in the familiar kitchen, filling the kettle, rummaging in the cupboards for some paracetamol and looking in the fridge to see if there was anything she could give him for breakfast. There were sausages — past their sell-by date — and bacon and probably some eggs still in the crock over by the window. Kirsty stood still for a moment, her tongue protruding from one side of her mouth as she considered. Scrambled eggs, she decided, then set to work.

Henrik stared into the fire, afraid to look up and see the rest of this room. It had been such a short time ago that the place had been full of workmen, painting and decorating to his commands, then fitting the rich, ruby-red carpet and setting his choice of furniture wherever he directed. And it was here, he knew, that Eva’s life had been taken. Didn’t the girl realise that, he wondered in a sudden spurt of anger, but the feeling passed in a flash as he acknowledged that Kirsty Wilson was simply doing what any woman would do, seeing to the needs of someone in distress. She reminded him of Marthe, he thought. Not that this dumpling of a girl resembled the tall, slender woman in any physical way, but there had been that same quality of warmth and care in her voice that recalled his housekeeper to mind.

At last the man raised his eyes and looked around the room. Little had changed, he thought, seeing the fine furniture against the walls: an antique cabinet that was full of books, the table by the window covered in trailing plants — his choice from that big garden centre, he remembered — and the low coffee table beside him with a few large glossy books pushed to one side. He drew his finger across the surface of the topmost book, seeing the trail left on its dusty surface, and gave a sigh. Why would he have imagined that the students might have any interest in such volumes as these? It was obvious from their pristine condition that the books on history and aviation had been of no interest to the young people in this flat. He sighed, the sound becoming a groan as his eyes refused to look down on the carpet.

‘Here you are,’ Kirsty said and Henrik looked up as though surprised to find the girl standing in front of him. She set down a tray on his lap and Henrik took it carefully, noting the steaming cup of coffee and scrambled eggs beside a glass of water.

He looked at her and shook his head. ‘I don’t think I could eat anything,’ he said.

Kirsty bit her lip and shrugged. ‘Och, don’t worry. See what you can manage. I think you should have these anyway.’ She handed him two white capsules. ‘You look terrible, by the way,’ she blurted.

Henrik managed a rueful smile. ‘Thank you, Kirsty,’ he said. ‘I’ll try not to look in any of the mirrors then.’

‘Okay, well, um… I think I better go and get dressed,’ Kirsty said, dithering by his chair then, much to Henrik’s relief, she was gone again, leaving him to swallow the pills and contemplate the breakfast before him.

As she came out of her bedroom, dressed hastily in jeans and a warm sweater, Kirsty stopped to turn up the central heating on the wall next to the front door. She was the only one of them to have returned to Merryfield Avenue so far but Rodge had texted her to say that both he and Gary would be back some time today. The boys had been put up by Roger’s pals for several nights now and Kirsty wondered just what the future was going to hold for them all here in the Anniesland flat. Well, she told herself, pulling back her shoulders and preparing to stride through the hall, the very man who could tell her that was here right now.

‘Oh, you managed…’ Kirsty smiled as she saw the tray lying on the coffee table, the plate empty and the knife and fork laid neatly across the middle. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked, bending down to lift the tray away. But a movement from the man made her pause.

‘Kirsty, leave that just now, will you?’ he asked quietly. ‘I would like to talk to you, if I may.’

This was it, then, she thought sadly. He was going to ask them all to find somewhere else to live. Couldn’t blame him, though, she told herself. How could he keep this place on now?

She shrugged then tried to smile but failed. ‘Well, I guess you won’t want us hanging about here after all that’s happened,’ she began.

Henrik frowned. ‘You think I am going to evict you, Kirsty? Why on earth would I do that? I am perfectly happy that you remain here, if you want to, that is. You have all signed a lease for the year and I would not dream of asking anyone to leave!’ he exclaimed.

‘Oh, I thought…’ She bit her lip and looked at him again. ‘Well, I do want to stay here, Mr Magnusson. It was lovely till…’ She broke off then breathed in sharply, trying to compose herself for what she wanted to say. ‘And I think Rodge and Gary will too. And Colin, when he comes back, of course,’ she added in a rush.

The big man sat back, his eyebrows raised in a moment of total astonishment.

‘You expect that he will come back here?’ His voice rose in a credulous note.

Kirsty nodded silently.

‘But he has been put in prison for killing my daughter!’ Henrik protested. ‘How can you say such things! My Eva, who was so perfect until…’ He stopped, one hand across his eyes as though he were trying to blot out some terrible memory.

Kirsty shivered, a sudden chill coursing down her back. What did he mean? Was he talking about Eva’s death? She frowned, biting her lip.

‘Mr Magnusson,’ she began, trembling slightly under the man’s stern gaze, ‘I really don’t think it was Colin who killed her. Honestly I don’t.’

‘But the police have evidence that he was the last one with her-’

‘They have evidence that he and Eva had sex,’ Kirsty told him bluntly. ‘That shouldn’t be the same as thinking he killed her as well. Making love isn’t a crime,’ she went on, then stopped, remembering for a fleeting moment her own rough and tumble upstairs with Roger Dunbar.

‘See, I really got to know Colin quite well since we all came here,’ she told him earnestly, leaning forward and hugging her arms around her chest. ‘Colin’s a nice lad, a bit bookish, perhaps, but a gentle soul. He would never have hurt Eva,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He was so very fond of her, you know.’ She sighed.

‘And she liked him too, did she?’ Henrik asked, shaking his head in puzzlement as though it had only just occurred to him that there might have been something he did not know about his daughter.

‘I think so,’ Kirsty said, mentally crossing her fingers. Why had they been together that night? Oh, Eva, if only you were here to tell me!

‘You think the police have got it wrong?’

‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I can’t speak to my dad about it but I did see Detective Superintendent Lorimer yesterday.’

Henrik nodded, encouraging her to continue.

‘Well, the police can’t do anything more for Colin unless some new evidence comes up to show that he was innocent.’

‘And? How is that going to happen?’

He was frowning again and, Kirsty thought, a bit annoyed at her. But she wasn’t going to achieve anything unless she was brave enough to plunge ahead.

‘Could I have your permission to go through all of Eva’s things? There’s still stuff that the police have left in her room,’ she explained.

‘Kirsty.’ Henrik reached out and took her hands in his. When he spoke again his voice was husky. ‘I can see you have been a friend to my girl and you are obviously a friend to this young man.’ He heaved a huge sigh that threatened to bring tears to his eyes and Kirsty looked away, too afraid to see this big handsome man break down in front of her.

‘You have my permission to look around, yes. I trust you to do this,’ he told her. ‘But only you, Kirsty. Take the key to Eva’s room, my dear, and keep it safe, will you? Then,’ he paused for a moment, ‘when you are sure that you have done all that you can, I will come back and we will pack up all her things together, yes?’