Camilla Lackberg - Buried Angels

Translated from the Swedish by Tiina Nunnally

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Published by HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Copyright © Camilla Lackberg 2011

Published by agreement with Nordin Agency, Sweden

Translation copyright © Tiina Nunnally 2014

Cover design layout © HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Cover photographs © Tony Watson / Arcangel Images (forest); Johner Images / Getty Images (girl)

Camilla Lackberg asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

Source ISBN: 9780007419593

Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780007419609

Version 2018-09-24

‘If one man can display so much hatred, imagine how much love all of us together could show.’

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Epigraph

Chapter One

Fjällbacka 1908

Chapter Two

Fjällbacka 1912

Chapter Three

Fjällbacka 1915

Chapter Four

Fjällbacka 1919

Chapter Five

Fjällbacka 1919

Chapter Six

Fjällbacka 1919

Chapter Seven

Fjällbacka 1919

Chapter Eight

Fjällbacka 1920

Chapter Nine

Fjällbacka 1925

Chapter Ten

Stockholm 1925

Chapter Eleven

Stockholm 1925

Chapter Twelve

Stockholm 1925

Chapter Thirteen

Långbro Hospital 1925

Chapter Fourteen

Fjällbacka 1929

Chapter Fifteen

Fjällbacka 1931

Chapter Sixteen

Lovö Cemetery 1933

Chapter Seventeen

St Jörgen Hospital 1936

Chapter Eighteen

Fjällbacka 1939

Chapter Nineteen

The Karinhall Estate 1949

Chapter Twenty

Fjällbacka 1951

Chapter Twenty-One

Fjällbacka 1961

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fjällbacka 1970

Chapter Twenty-Three

Valö 1972

Chapter Twenty-Four

Valö 1973

Chapter Twenty-Five

Valö 1974

Chapter Twenty-Six

Valö, Easter Eve 1974

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Valö, Easter Eve 1974

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Stockholm 1991

Afterword

About the Author

Also by Camilla Lackberg

About the Publisher

They had decided to renovate their way out of the grief. Neither of them was sure it was a good plan, but it was the only one they had. The alternative was to lie down and slowly pine away.

Ebba ran the scraper over the outside wall of the house. The paint was coming away easily. It had already started to flake off in big chunks, so all she had to do was help it along. The July sun was so hot that her fringe was sticking to her forehead, which was damp with sweat, and her arm ached because it was the third day in a row she’d carried out this same monotonous, up-and-down motion. But she welcomed the physical pain. The worse it got, the more it muted the ache in her heart, at least for a while.

She turned around and looked at Tobias, who was working on the lawn in front of the house, sawing boards. He seemed to sense that she was watching him, because he glanced up and raised a hand in greeting, as if she were an acquaintance he was meeting on the street. Ebba felt her own hand respond with the same awkward gesture.

More than six months had passed since their life had been shattered, but they still didn’t know how to react to each other. Every night they would lie in the double bed with their backs turned, terrified that some involuntary touch might release something that they wouldn’t know how to handle. It was as if the grief filled them to the point there was no room for any other feelings. No love, no warmth, no empathy.

Guilt, heavy and unexpressed, separated them. Things would have been easier if they could have defined it and worked out where it belonged. But it kept shifting back and forth, changing strength and shape, constantly attacking from new directions.

Ebba turned back to the house and continued scraping at the wall. Under her hands the white paint came off in big pieces, revealing the wooden boards underneath. She stroked the wood with her free hand. This house seemed to have a soul in a way that she’d never noticed anywhere else. The small terraced cottage in Göteborg had been almost new when she and Tobias had bought it together. Back then she had loved the fact that the whole place had shone so brightly, that it was so untouched. Now all of that newness was a thing of the past, and this old house with all its flaws was better suited to her present state. She thought again about the leaky roof, the boiler that regularly needed a good kick to get it started, and the draughty windows that made it impossible to keep a lighted candle on the windowsill. Rain and wind also swept through her soul, mercilessly blowing out the candles that she tried to light.

Maybe her spirit would be able to heal here on Valö. She had no memories from this place, and yet it was as if they knew each other, she and this island. It was just opposite Fjällbacka. If she went down to the dock, she could see the small coastal town spread out across the water. At the base of the steep granite cliff the little white buildings and red boathouses were lined up like a string of beads. The sight was so beautiful that it almost hurt.

Sweat was running down her forehead, stinging her eyes. She wiped her face on her T-shirt and squinted up at the sun. Seagulls were circling overhead. The birds called and shrieked to each other, their cries mixing with the sound of motorboats moving through the strait. She closed her eyes and let the sounds carry her away. Away from herself, away from …

‘How about taking a break to go swimming?’

Tobias’s voice broke through the background noise, startling her. She shook her head in confusion, but then nodded.

‘Sure, let’s do that,’ she said, climbing down from the scaffolding.

Their bathing suits had been hung up to dry in back of the house. Ebba peeled off her sweaty work clothes to put on a bikini.

Tobias was faster, and he waited for her impatiently.

‘Ready?’ he said and then led the way down the path to the beach. The island was quite large and not as barren as many of the smaller islands in the archipelago of Bohuslän. The path was lined by leafy trees and tall grass, and Ebba stomped hard on the ground as she walked along. She had an intense fear of snakes, which had grown worse since she saw a viper basking in the sun a few days ago.