Ю Несбё - The Kingdom

A thought struck me – not quite sure why – that in fact it was probably slightly less innocent than the sixteen-year-old she’d been when she first started working here. What the fuck was the matter with me? I’d never thought of Julie that way before, not ever. Or had I? No. It must have been when she put her arms out behind her to hoist herself up onto the counter, the way her jacket fell open, out past her breasts, with the nipples pressing, clearly visible through the bra and the T-shirt. But for chrissakes, the girl had had big boobs since she was thirteen years old and I’d never given them a second thought, so what was this now? I wasn’t a tit man or hot for teenage girls either, I never searched for either big boobs or nineteen.

And that wasn’t the only mystery.

There was that shameful expression on the face. Not Julie’s, when she thought I’d caught her out in her Friday version with the boy racer crowd. No. The roofer’s face. Moe’s gaze flitting about like a moth. Trying to avoid mine. Julie said it had been dancing over the shelves behind me. I turned and scanned them. A suspicion crossed my mind, I dismissed it at once. But it returned, like that white dot tennis ball thing Carl and I played with that time when the village got its first and only slot machine, next to the ice-cream dispenser at the coffee bar. Dad used to drive us there, we’d wait in line, and he’d have a look on his face as though he’d taken us to Disneyland.

I had seen that shame before. At home. In a mirror. I recognised it. It couldn’t be more profound. Not just because the sin committed was so despicable and unforgivable, but because it would be committed again. Despite the fact that your mirror swears to you this is the last time, it happens, over and over again. Shame at the act, but more than that, shame at one’s own weakness, at doing what you don’t want to do. If it was something that you wanted to do, then at least you could lay the blame on the pure, unadulterated evil of your own nature.

SATURDAY MORNING. MARKUS HAD TAKEN over at the station, and I drove up the hill in second gear. Stopped in front of the house and revved the engine to let them know I was back.

Carl and Shannon were sitting in the kitchen, studying the plans for the hotel and discussing the presentation.

‘According to Simon Nergard no one’s going to invest,’ I said with a yawn, leaning against the door jamb. ‘He heard that from a bank guy who’s seen the plans.’

‘And I have talked to at least a dozen people who love the plans,’ said Carl.

‘Here in the village?’

‘In Toronto. People who know what they’re talking about.’

I shrugged. ‘The people you have to convince don’t live in Toronto and they don’t know what they’re talking about. Good luck. I’m off to bed.’

‘Jo Aas has agreed to a meeting with me today,’ said Carl.

I stopped. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. I asked Mari at the party if she could set it up.’

‘Excellent. Was that why you invited her?’

‘Partly. And I wanted her and Shannon to meet. If we’re going to be living here then best if those two don’t have to walk around scowling at each other. And you know what?’ He rested a hand on Shannon’s shoulder. ‘I think my girl melted the ice queen.’

‘Melted?’ said Shannon and rolled her eyes. ‘Sweetie, that woman hates me. Am I right, Roy?’

‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘A bit less than she would otherwise have done had you not pulled that trick with the picture of the twins.’

For the first time since coming in I looked directly at Shannon. She was wearing a large white dressing gown and her hair was still wet from the shower. She hadn’t displayed so much skin before, always the black pullovers and trousers, but now I could see that the skin on her slender legs and in the neck of the dressing gown was as white and unblemished as her face. The wet hair was darker and less glossy, almost a rust red, and I discovered something I hadn’t noticed before, the scattering of pale freckles around her nose. She smiled, but there was something in her expression, something wounded. Had Carl said the wrong thing? Had I said the wrong thing? Of course it could have been that I more than hinted that she had been cynical in pretending to find the twins so fantastic, but something told me she wouldn’t have a problem admitting that kind of cynicism. That a girl like Shannon did what she had to without asking anyone’s pardon.

‘Shannon says she wants to cook us something Norwegian this evening,’ said Carl. ‘I thought—’

‘I’ve got to work tonight too,’ I said. ‘Someone’s off sick.’

‘Oh?’ Carl raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you have five other people who could cover for him?’

‘No one can manage it,’ I said. ‘It’s the weekend, and short notice.’ Spread my arms as though to say such is the fate of the boss of a service station, got to cover for everybody. I could see Carl didn’t believe me for a moment. That’s the problem with brothers, they pick up every bloody false note, but what the hell else could I say? That I wasn’t getting any sleep because of all their screwing?

‘I’m going to get some shut-eye.’

I was woken by a noise. It wasn’t that it was particularly loud, but in the first place, there aren’t that many sounds up here in the mountains, and in the second, it didn’t belong up here, which was probably the reason my brain hadn’t filtered it out.

It was a kind of hissing hum, somewhere between a wasp and a lawnmower.

I looked out the window. Got up, dressed quickly, hurried down the steps and then walked slowly over towards Geitesvingen.

Sheriff Kurt Olsen was there with Erik Nerell and a guy who was holding a remote control with antennae. They were all looking up at the thing that had woken me, a white drone about the size of a dinner plate that was hovering a metre above their heads.

‘OK,’ I said, and they became aware of my presence. ‘Are you looking for posters for the investors’ meeting?’

‘Good morning, Roy,’ said the sheriff without touching the ciggy that bounced around in time to his words.

‘This is a private road, you know.’ I was buckling my belt, which I had forgotten in my hurry. ‘So that’s all right then, isn’t it?’

‘Well, there’s private, and then there’s private.’

‘Oh yeah?’ I said, and then realised I had better calm down. That if I wasn’t careful I was going to get too wound up. ‘If it was a public road then the traffic authorities might have coughed up for a safety barrier, don’t you think?’

‘True enough, Roy. But the whole area round here is a designated wilderness, so it’s all public right of way.’

‘I’m talking about the posters, not whether or not you’ve got the right to be standing where you are, sheriff. I’ve just got off a night shift, so if you were planning to wake me up with that drone you might have warned me.’

‘Might have done,’ said Sheriff Olsen. ‘But we didn’t want to disturb anyone, Roy. This won’t take long, just a few pictures. If we decide it’s safe enough for us to come back and lower people down there, then of course we’ll let you know in advance.’ He looked at me. Not coldly, just observing me, as though he was taking snapshots of me, like the drone, which by now disappeared beneath the edge of the ridge and was snapping away for dear life down there in Huken. I nodded, tried to keep my face expressionless.

‘I’m sorry,’ Olsen went on. ‘I know this business is… sensitive.’ He lingered over the word, like a priest. ‘I should have warned you, I didn’t remember how close to the house the ridge was. What can I say? You can be glad your taxpayer’s money is being used to establish exactly how the accident really did happen. That’s something we all want to know.’