The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,167
says.
‘Maybe we don’t need your stuff any more.’
‘You will. You haven’t even started to understand how powerful your enemies are.’
But she doesn’t frighten Vanessa who, on this particular day, has decided not to give a shit about any of that stuff, or about responsibility, the apocalypse, Nicke or any other evil in the world. It’s the summer holidays now.
‘Aren’t you going to say anything about how I’m going to die, too?’ Vanessa asks. It annoys her to discover that she’s slurring her words. It ruins the effect. ‘Maybe you should go back to fortune-teller school because, as you can see, I’m pretty fucking alive, aren’t I?’ she adds.
Mona chuckles. ‘I may not have told the whole truth about that symbol,’ she says.
‘Is that so? Why doesn’t it surprise me that you reinterpret your fortunes when they don’t come true?’
‘nGéadal really does stand for death,’ Mona says. ‘But death can also symbolise transformation, change. Leaving oneself behind and starting afresh. Being reborn, so to speak. Your whole life getting turned upside down to the point that you have to re-evaluate everything.’
Mona leans close, her lips beside Vanessa’s ear. The smell of cigarettes and incense makes her feel vaguely nauseous. ‘In your case nGéadal lay very close to muin. Love.’ Mona leans back and blows a cloud of smoke into Vanessa’s face.
‘Have a nice summer,’ she says, and saunters away.
Vanessa is left standing in the cloud of smoke.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ Wille shouts.
Vanessa watches Mona go. She almost feels sober. She drops Mona’s cigarette and stamps on it.
The canal is glittering in the sunlight. The church is on the other side. The cemetery. She knows what she has to do.
‘Nessa!’ Michelle shouts from the bushes.
But Vanessa is already on her way.
Minoo walks across the cemetery. The envelope with her report is folded twice in her hand. Top marks in everything except PE, as always. But she doesn’t feel the usual sense of relief. It’s more like the memory of relief.
When everyone had hugged each other and said goodbye for the summer, she had slipped out of the classroom. Then she walked to the stream that she had dreamed about last night. Even though she knew it was impossible, she hoped Rebecka would be waiting there for her.
She wasn’t.
Ever since Minoo had felt Rebecka’s soul, she’s clung to a childish hope that her friend would return from where she is now …
When Rebecka’s grave comes into view, Minoo sees that someone is already standing there. No, not at Rebecka’s grave. At Elias’s.
It’s Linnéa.
Minoo deliberates whether to stay or go. But then Linnéa turns around and sees her. ‘Hi,’ she shouts.
‘Hi,’ Minoo answers, and goes up to her.
Linnéa is holding a big bouquet of red roses. The plastic wrapping is still on it. ‘I stole them,’ Linnéa says. ‘It’s a bit of a tradition. Elias used to steal flowers for me. Once he came with a whole flower box from Monique’s.’
Minoo smiles. It feels as though she hasn’t done so for a long time. Like she’s forgotten how.
Linnéa sits on the ground between Elias and Rebecka.
‘The principal knows,’ she says. ‘She knows it was Max and she knows that we were the ones who put him where he is. She also knows we were practising at Nicolaus’s place.’
It takes Minoo a moment to absorb what Linnéa has just said. It’s typical of her to blurt out some earth-shattering revelation without warning.
Minoo is just about to dispute it when she realises that what Linnéa has said explains everything.
That strange look the principal had given Minoo in the fair ground last winter. Now she understands that it was a look of encouragement. The principal had been forced to pass on the Council’s orders. That was why she had told them not to go after Gustaf. But all the time she had known what they were doing and had left them to it. She had bought their subterfuges, their lies. She must have realised they were practising on their own. And when Max had ended up in a coma, it couldn’t have been hard to work out the rest.
‘When did you realise that?’ Minoo asks.
‘I’ve known for a while.’ Linnéa pokes at a tuft of grass with her shoe. ‘I’m so glad you came here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something, but I haven’t known how to say it … What happened in the cafeteria. You can’t keep it pent up inside you. It’ll kill you. You’re already dying from it.’