Depths - By Henning Mankell & Laurie Thompson Page 0,112

thorns and branches, her clothes were torn and covered in vomit. She was sitting on the stool, swaying backwards and forwards. Sara Fredrika squatted down in front of her.

'Let's go now. There's not much wind, but enough to get us away from here.'

Kristina Tacker did not react. Sara Fredrika had prepared a basket of food, and another one with clothes. The baby was lying on the bed, wrapped up in a fur.

'You carry the baskets,' she said. 'She and the baby are mine.'

Sara Fredrika led the way, carrying the baby and supporting Kristina Tacker.

Behind them walked Tobiasson-Svartman, carrying the heavy baskets.

Once again he had the feeling he was in a procession. Behind him were other marchers that he could not see.

CHAPTER 191

They waded out to the boat.

It was a cold, clear autumn morning. There was a south-easterly breeze. Kristina Tacker said nothing, allowed herself to be led out into the water as if she were to be baptised. Sara Fredrika laid her down in the cockpit together with the baby. He stood by, up to his waist in water. Using a key she had found in one of Kristina Tacker's pockets, Sara Fredrika first unlocked the chain round the sails, then the one securing the tiller.

'I'll come back,' she said. 'I ought to make myself scarce, but I won't. You could take the dinghy and sail away, of course, but where would you go? You'll wait for me to come back because you have no choice.'

She struck anchor and told him to give the boat a push. He stayed in the water until she had raised the mainsail and set off in a north-easterly direction.

The sailing boat disappeared behind the headlands. He waded ashore.

His only thought was to get some sleep.

CHAPTER 192

The time that followed was like a conversation with shadows.

He wandered around the island, climbed among rocks, wriggled his way into crevices where there was some protection from the autumn winds that were becoming colder and colder.

One night he was woken up by the sound of a heavy gun, and he could see the glow on the horizon. Otherwise he slept soundly, without dreaming. The cat was curled up at the foot end of the bed.

He fished only when he needed food. He started to hear voices coming from the rocks, from all the people who had lived on the skerry before it was abandoned. People used to live here once upon a time. Sara Fredrika said they had rowed here using their ribs as oars. I did not understand what she meant then, but now her words are crystal clear. They came here in rowing boats, the skerry received them in admiration. They sailed, rowed, fished and died.

People used to live here once upon a time. Nobody saw them come, nobody saw them leave, only the rock lifted its hand of stone as a farewell salute.

When he was curled up in the crevices, sheltering from the bitter autumn winds, he tried to imagine what would have happened when Kristina Tacker had got to Stockholm. But he could not picture her. Her face, even her fragrance, had disappeared for ever.

He also tried to imagine what would happen when Sara Fredrika returned.

America, her great dream? He could certainly imagine going there, but he would want to be on his own: a Swedish naval officer could make a new life for himself in the US Navy. But he would never be able to go there with Sara Fredrika.

It was really the child he was thinking about. Laura Tobiasson-Svartman. He could see her even in pitch darkness. If he abandoned her, he would have finally abandoned himself.

CHAPTER 193

November came, frosty nights were more frequent. He was waiting for Sara Fredrika to return.

Autumn, waiting, winds from the north.

CHAPTER 194

One night he was woken up by dreaming that she had come back. He went out into the darkness and listened. Nothing but the sound of the sea.

Then he heard the beating of wings. The swishing of migrating birds, the last flocks of the autumn leaving Sweden in the night.

Over his head, this vast armada, that allowed him to stay behind.

CHAPTER 195

The first snow fell over the sea on 4 November.

He took in the nets that morning, felt the damp snow seeping into him. There was only a light breeze, he had not raised the sail but rowed slowly. Off Jungfrugrunden he noticed something bobbing up and down in the water. When he came closer he saw that it was a big mine with horns