Camilla Lackberg - The Girl in the Woods

Clenching his fists, Khalil looked around, thinking about how his life was now. He spent his days in a small room in the refugee centre, or he roamed through the streets in this strange little town where they’d landed. Such a quiet and desolate place, lacking all smells and sounds and colours.

The Swedes went about in their own world, barely even greeting one another, and they seemed almost frightened if anyone addressed them directly. They all spoke so quietly, without gesturing.

Adnan and Khalil went downstairs and out into the summer heat. They paused on the pavement outside the department store. It was the same thing every day. So difficult to find anything to occupy their time. The walls of the refugee centre seemed to close in, as if trying to suffocate them. Khalil didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Here in Sweden he had a roof over his head and food in his belly. And he was safe. There were no bombs falling here. People lived without the threat of either soldiers or terrorists. Yet even in safety it was hard to live a life in limbo. Without a home, without anything to do, without purpose.

This was not living. It was merely existing.

Adnan sighed as he stood next to Khalil. In silence they headed back to the refugee centre.

Eva stood as if frozen to the spot, hugging her arms around her torso. Peter kept rushing around. He’d searched everywhere at least four or five times, lifting up bedclothes, moving the same boxes, calling Nea’s name over and over. But Eva knew it was pointless. Nea wasn’t here. She could feel her absence in her body.

She squinted her eyes, noticing a dot way off in the distance. A dot that got bigger and bigger, becoming a white splotch as it approached. Eva realized it must be the police. Soon she could clearly see the blue and yellow markings on the car, and a chasm opened inside her. Her daughter was missing. The police were here because Nea was missing. She’d been missing since this morning. Her brain struggled to take in the fact she’d been missing since the morning. How could they have been such bad parents not to notice their four-year-old had been gone all day?

‘Are you the one who called?’

An older man with silver hair had got out the police car and now came over to her. She nodded mutely, and he reached out to shake her hand.

‘Gösta Flygare. And this is Bertil Mellberg.’

An officer about the same age but significantly heavier shook her hand as well. He was sweating copiously and raised his arm to wipe his brow on his shirtsleeve.

‘Is your husband here?’ asked the thinner officer with greyer hair as he scanned the yard.

‘Peter!’ called Eva, alarmed at how weak her voice sounded.

She tried again, and Peter came rushing out of the woods.

‘Have you found her?’ he shouted.

Then he caught sight of the policemen and his heart sank.

It all seemed so unreal to Eva. This couldn’t be happening. She expected to wake up at any second, relieved to find she’d simply been dreaming.

‘Why don’t we sit down and talk over a cup of coffee?’ said Gösta calmly as he touched Eva’s arm.

‘Of course. Come in. We’ll sit in the kitchen,’ she said as she led the way.

Peter stayed where he was, standing in the middle of the farmyard, his long arms hanging limply at his sides. She knew he wanted to keep searching, but she couldn’t handle this conversation on her own.

‘Peter, come on.’

With heavy steps he followed his wife and the police inside. Turning her back on the others, Eva began fiddling with the coffee machine, but she was very aware of the officers’ presence. Their uniforms seemed to fill the whole room.

‘Milk? Sugar?’ she asked them, and both nodded.

She got out the milk and sugar as her husband stood in the doorway.

‘Sit down,’ she told him, a bit sharply, and he obeyed.

As if on autopilot, she set the table with coffee mugs, spoons, and a packet of Ballerina biscuits she found in the cupboard. Nea loved Ballerina biscuits. The thought made Eva flinch, and she dropped a spoon on the floor. Gösta bent down to pick it up, but she beat him to it. She put the spoon in the sink and took a new one out of the silverware drawer.

‘Shouldn’t you be asking us questions?’ said Peter, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands. ‘She’s been missing since this morning, and every second counts.’

‘We’ll wait for your wife to sit down, and then we’ll start,’ said Gösta with a nod towards Eva.

She poured coffee for all of them and sat down.

‘When did you last see the little girl?’ asked the fat officer as he reached for a biscuit.

Eva felt a rush of anger. She’d put the biscuits on the table because it was expected when guests came over, but it infuriated her to see him munching on a chocolate biscuit as they answered questions about Nea.

Eva took a deep breath, knowing she was being irrational.

‘Last night. She went to bed at the usual time. She has her own bedroom, and I read her a good-night story and then turned off the light and closed the door.’

‘And you didn’t see her after that? She didn’t wake up during the night? Neither of you went to check on her? You didn’t hear anything?’

Gösta’s voice was so gentle, she could almost ignore the fact that his colleague had helped himself to another biscuit.

Peter cleared his throat.

‘No. She always sleeps through the night. I was the first one up this morning. I was going to drive the tractor over to the woods, so I just had a quick cup of coffee and a piece of toast. Then I left.’

There was a pleading tone to his voice. As if there might be some answer to be found in what he’d said. Eva reached out to put her hand on his. It felt as cold as her own.

‘And you didn’t see Linnea at that time? In the morning?’

Peter shook his head.

‘No, the door to her room was closed. I tiptoed past as quietly as I could so I wouldn’t wake her. I wanted Eva to be able to sleep a little longer.’

She squeezed his hand. That was Peter in a nutshell. Always so considerate. Always thinking of her and Nea.

‘What about you, Eva? Tell us about your morning.’

Gösta’s gentle voice made her feel like crying.

‘I woke up late, it was already half past nine. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late. The whole house was quiet, and the first thing I did was go to check on Nea. The door to her room was open, and her bed was unmade. She wasn’t there, so I just assumed …’

Eva couldn’t hold back a sob. Peter placed his other hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.

‘I assumed she must have gone with Peter out to the woods. She loves doing that, and she often goes with him. So it wasn’t strange and I didn’t think for a second …’

Eva could no longer hold back the tears. She reached up to wipe them away.

‘I would have assumed the same thing,’ said Peter, and again squeezed his wife’s hand.

She knew he was right. And yet. If only she had …

‘Could she have gone to visit a friend?’ asked Gösta.

Peter shook his head.

‘No, she always stays here on the farm. She has never even tried to go beyond our property.’

‘There’s always a first time,’ said the fat officer. He’d been sitting so quietly as he ate one biscuit after another that Eva practically jumped when he spoke. ‘Maybe she ran into the woods.’

Gösta gave Bertil Mellberg a look that Eva couldn’t decipher.

‘We’ll organize a search party,’ he said.

‘Do you think that’s what happened? She got lost in the woods?’

The woods went on forever. The very thought of Nea lost in there made Eva feel sick with apprehension. They had never worried such a thing might happen. And Nea had never gone off on her own. But maybe they’d been naive. Naive and irresponsible. Allowing a four-year-old girl to run free on the farm when it was right next to a big woods. Nea was lost, and it was all their fault.