Jo Nesbo - Midnight Sun

I covered the body with another layer of roofing felt, opened the bottle of alcohol and soaked the bed, the felt and the rest of the cabin. There was a tiny bit left. I hesitated for a moment. Then I turned the bottle upside down and watched Mattis’s unholy liquor soak into the tinder-dry floorboards.

I took a match out of the box, shuddered as I heard the sulphur scrape against the side of the box and watched the flame flare up.

Now.

I dropped the match on top of the roofing felt.

I’ve read that bodies don’t burn well. We’re sixty per cent water, maybe that’s why. But as I saw how quickly the tar-covered felt burned, I didn’t expect there to be much meat left on the grill afterwards.

I went outside, leaving the door open so that the first flames would catch properly and really take hold.

I needn’t have worried.

It was as if the flames were talking to us. First with mumbling, restrained voices, then they gradually rose in volume and wildness, until eventually they were a cacophonous roar. Even Knut would have been happy with this blaze.

As if she knew who I was thinking about, she said: ‘Knut always used to say that his father would burn.’

‘What about us?’ I said. ‘Will we burn?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, taking my hand. ‘I’ve tried to work it out, but the funny thing is that I don’t feel anything. Hugo Eliassen. I lived under the same roof as that man for over ten years, but even so I’m not sorry, and I don’t feel any sympathy for him. I’m not angry with him any more, but I don’t feel happy either. And I’m not scared. It’s been a long while since I wasn’t scared. Scared for Knut’s sake, for my own. I was even scared of you. But do you know what the strangest thing is?’

She swallowed and stared at the cabin, which was now a single mass of flames. She looked incredibly beautiful in the red glow of the fire.

‘I don’t regret it. Not now, and I won’t regret it later either. So if what we’re doing is a mortal sin, then I’ll burn, because I’m not going to ask for forgiveness. The only thing I’ve regretted these past few days—’ she turned towards me — ‘is that I let you go.’

The nocturnal temperature had fallen suddenly and severely; it must have been the heat from the cabin that was making my cheeks and forehead burn.

‘Thank you for not giving up, Ulf.’ She stroked my hot cheek with her hand.

‘Hmm. Not Jon?’

She leaned against me. Her lips almost touching mine. ‘Considering the plan, it’s probably best if we carry on calling you Ulf.’

‘Speaking of names and plans,’ I said. ‘Would you like to marry me?’

She looked at me sharply. ‘You’re proposing now ? While my husband is burning to ashes right in front of us?’

‘It’s the practical solution,’ I said.

‘Practical!’ she snorted.

‘Practical.’ I folded my arms. Looked up at the sky. Then at the time. ‘Plus the fact that I love you more than I’ve ever loved any woman, and that I’ve heard Læstadian women aren’t even allowed to kiss before marriage.’

A shower of sparks flew up as the roof and walls of the cabin collapsed. She pressed closer to me. Our lips met. And this time there was no doubt.

She was kissing me.

As we hurried down towards the village, the cabin was already a smoking ruin behind us. We agreed that I should hide in the church while she packed and picked up Knut from his grandparents, before fetching me in the Volkswagen.

‘You don’t need to pack much,’ I said, patting the money belt. ‘We can buy what we need.’

She nodded. ‘Don’t show yourself outside. I’ll come in and get you.’

We parted on the gravel road, right where I had met Mattis the night I arrived in Kåsund. That felt like a lifetime ago. And now, as then, I heaved the heavy church door open and went up to the altar. There I stopped and looked at the crucifix.

Did Grandfather mean what he said about not being able to turn down something that was free, and that was the only reason why he surrendered to superstition? Or was it actually the case that my prayers had been heard, that the guy on the cross had saved me? Did I owe him anything?

I took a deep breath.

Him? He was just a man carved out of fucking wood. Down by the shore there were rocks they prayed to that must work just as well.

But all the same.

Damn.

I sat down on the front pew. Thinking. And it isn’t too pretentious to say that I was thinking about life and death.

After twenty minutes the door slammed hard. I swung round. It was too dark for me to see who it was. But it wasn’t Lea, the footsteps were too heavy.

Johnny? Ove?

My heart was racing as I tried to remember why I’d tossed the pistol into the sea.

‘So.’ The vowel was stretched out. The voice was deep and familiar. ‘You’re having a conversation with the Lord? I presume you’re asking if you’re doing the right thing?’

For some reason I saw Lea’s features more clearly in her father, now that he had come straight from bed. What little hair he had wasn’t as neatly combed as the other times I had seen him, and his shirt was buttoned wrong. That made him less intimidating, but beyond that there was something about his tone of voice and facial expression that told me he had come in peace.

‘I’m not quite a believer yet,’ I said. ‘But I’m no longer denying that I’ve got doubts.’

‘Everyone has doubts. Believers more than anyone.’

‘Really? You, too?’

‘Of course I have doubts.’ Jakob Sara sat down beside me with a groan. He wasn’t a heavy man, but even so the pew seemed to rock. ‘That’s why it’s called faith, not knowledge.’

‘Even for a preacher?’

‘Especially for a preacher.’ He sighed. ‘He has to confront his own convictions every time he preaches the Word. He has to feel it, because he knows that doubt and faith will each be audible in his voice. Do I believe today? Do I believe strongly enough today?’

‘Hmm. What about the times you step up to the pulpit when you don’t believe strongly enough?’

He rubbed his chin. ‘Then you have to believe that living as a Christian is in itself good. That renunciation, not succumbing to sin, has a value for human beings even in this earthly life. On a similar theme, I’ve read that sportsmen find the pain and effort of training meaningful in itself, even if they never win anything. If heaven didn’t actually exist, then at least we have a good, secure life as Christians, where we work, live happily, accept the possibilities God and nature give us, and look after each other. Do you know what my father — also a preacher — used to say about Læstadianism? That if you only counted the people the movement had saved from alcoholism and broken homes, that alone would justify what we do, even if we were preaching a lie.’ He paused for a minute. ‘But it’s not always like that. Sometimes it costs more than it should to live according to Scripture. The way it did for Lea... The way I, in my delusion, forced Lea to live.’ There was a faint tremor in his voice. ‘It took me many years to realise it, but no one should be forced by their father to live in a marriage like that, with a man they hate, a man who had taken them by force.’ He raised his head and looked at the crucifix above us. ‘Yes, I remain convinced that it was right according to Scripture, but sometimes salvation can have too high a price.’

‘Amen.’

‘And the pair of you, you and Lea...’ He turned to look at me. ‘I saw it in the prayer hall. Two young people looking at each other in the way you and Lea did in the back row, when you thought no one else could see.’ He shook his head and smiled sadly. ‘Now of course what Scripture says about remarriage is debatable, not to mention marrying a heathen. But I’ve never seen Lea like this. And I’ve never heard her sound the way she did when she came to pick up Knut just now. You’ve made my daughter beautiful again, Ulf. I’m just saying it like it is, and it looks as if you’ve started to heal all the damage I did.’ He put a large, wrinkled hand on my knee. ‘And you’re doing the right thing, you need to get away from Kåsund. The Eliassen family is very powerful, more powerful than me, and they’d never let you and Lea have a life here.’