Depths - By Henning Mankell & Laurie Thompson Page 0,113

sticking out from its globular casing, most of which was submerged. It was a Russian mine, and had no doubt drifted away from a minefield set elsewhere.

He tied a rope round the damaged anchor loop and towed the mine back to the skerry. He secured it using a sinker.

It was as if he had started to fortify Halsskär.

CHAPTER 196

The next day, when he was making one of his leisurely tours of the skerry, he had the feeling that Sara Fredrika had tricked him.

She had no intention of returning, she had gone away, abandoning both him and Halsskär.

The thought filled him with panic. He scanned the horizon with his telescope, but there was no sign of any boats.

It was evening before he had managed to regain control of himself. Sara Fredrika would come back, he had seen it in her eyes. Something was forcing her to stay with Kristina Tacker, but sooner or later she would come ashore again on Halsskär.

All he could do was to wait. That was his only task.

CHAPTER 197

One day in the middle of November he saw a little yacht sailing fast towards Halsskär. He had difficulty in holding the telescope steady. He recognised the yacht, it was Angel's boat. That convinced him. Sara Fredrika was on her way. The waiting would be over at last.

He went down to the inlet. It was a cold morning, he pulled his overcoat more tightly round him, and noticed that his long hair was hanging over the collar.

When the yacht rounded the last of the headlands, he saw that Angel was alone. Sara Fredrika had not come back.

CHAPTER 198

Angel anchored the yacht and waded ashore, holding her skirt up above her knees. She was coughing badly and her eyes were bloodshot. She shook hands and gave him a letter she had stuck inside her neckband.

'It came to me,' she said. 'From Sara Fredrika. I didn't even know she was away.'

He could see that she was curious, but he paid no attention.

'Go back home,' he said. 'You're coughing and you're running a temperature. Thank you for bringing the letter.'

'I'll stay and wait in case you need to answer it.'

'That's not necessary.'

'The letter was inside another one, addressed to me. She asked me to wait for your reply.'

He tried to read the expression on her face. What had Sara Fredrika written to her?

'That's all she wrote,' she said. 'She said the baby was doing fine, and I was to wait for your reply. If there was one.'

CHAPTER 199

They walked up to the cottage. She drank a ladle of water from the bucket and sat down in front of the fire. He went outside to read the letter in private.

He examined the envelope. It was not Kristina Tacker's handwriting. Somebody else had written what Sara Fredrika had dictated.

He hesitated before plucking up enough courage to open the envelope. It was like taking a deep breath before diving into the water where it was very deep.

CHAPTER 200

The letter in the unknown handwriting:

I am not coming back. You are still there, but you are not for me. I now realise what I didn't want to believe before, that the German soldier didn't commit suicide, but you killed him. I don't know why, just as you cannot understand how I have realised what happened. When you read this letter I will already be on my way to somewhere else with Laura. You will never see her or me again, I'm putting as much distance between us as is possible. You can do what you like with all the things on the skerry. I will never understand who you were, you hardly understand yourself who you are or want to be. Kristina hasn't been able to help me with this letter, she is ill. I'm worried about her state of mind, she might not be able to live in the real world any more. If she doesn't get any better she will be sent to a hospital for neurotics. I have been helped to write this letter by Anna, who works in your house. I'm sending it to the midwife in Kråkmarö and I'm asking her to stay until she is sure that you have read and understood it. Then she will write to me and confirm the fact. She doesn't have an address for me, but will receive an address one day. My journey has begun, and you are no longer with me.

Sara Fredrika, November 1915.

He read the letter again. Then he lay down on the

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