hours previously. She had gone into labour, although the baby was not due for a long time yet.
The shock, he thought. Her shock and fear are now mine as well. I hoped her father would die. It might end up with me killing my own child instead.
CHAPTER 156
Kristina Tacker gave birth to a daughter that evening.
The doctors were very doubtful if the baby would live. For the next few days Tobiasson-Svartman did not leave the flat. He sent the maid back and forth, bringing news from the Serafimer Hospital.
The days were sultry. At night, when the maid had fallen asleep in exhaustion, he took to wandering about the flat naked. He frequently sat at his desk to write down his thoughts. But over and over again he discovered that he did not have any thoughts. All around him and inside him was nothing but a vast vacuum.
One night when he could not sleep he packed a suitcase. He tried to fold his clothes as if it had been his wife doing the packing for him.
The china figurines stood silently on their shelves. He waited.
CHAPTER 157
On 2 August he received a telephone message from a hospital consultant by the name of Edman.
He was asked to attend the hospital as soon as possible. His panic reaction was such that he had stomach pains. He hurried out of the flat doubled up in agony.
If the baby had died his wife would be very critical. He had stayed away for too long, had avoided his responsibilities. Or had something happened to her? Had she caught an infection? He had no idea, and sat shivering in the cab.
Then it struck him: Ludwig Tacker. Has he realised that I was the one who attacked him? Has he told her?
When he arrived at the hospital the first thing he needed to do was to go to the lavatory. Then he knocked on the consultant's door, heard a loud 'Come', and went in. Dr Edman was tall and bald. He invited his visitor to take a seat.
'You look very frightened.'
'Obviously, I was very worried when I was summoned here.'
'Everybody always fears the worst when they are bidden to come to the hospital. I've tried to drum it into my staff that they should try not to sound so damned dramatic on the telephone. But hospitals are frightening places, whether one likes it or not. However, you have no need to worry. Your daughter will survive. She is strong and has a powerful lust for life.'
His relief was beyond words. Once he had injured his arm when he fell from a companionway. The pain was intense and he had been given a morphine injection by the ship's doctor. He had never forgotten the feeling of relief when the injection started working. It was the same now, as if somebody had pumped some drug into his veins. His stomach pains ceased, Dr Edman stood before him like a beaming redeemer, dressed in white.
'They had better stay in hospital for a while yet,' the doctor said. 'We learn a lot every time we have an opportunity to study a premature baby.'
He left Dr Edman's office and walked along the corridor.
I do not deserve this, he thought. But my daughter wants to live, she has more of a will to live than I have.
He went to look at the little miracle.
CHAPTER 158
It seemed to him that she looked like a dried mushroom. But she's mine, he thought. She's mine and she's alive.
Kristina Tacker had a small private room. She was pale and tired. He sat down on the bed and took her hand.
'She's a beautiful baby,' he said. 'I want her to be called Laura.'
'As we had agreed,' she said with a faint smile.
He did not stay for long. Just before he left, he told her that he would have to set out on his mission now. He ought to have left already, but he had asked for a postponement until he could be confident that the baby would survive.
'Thank you for staying,' she said.
'Everything will be all right,' he said. 'I'll soon be back.'
He left the hospital. It was a relief, like sinking into warm water.
CHAPTER 159
That night he wandered around the flat naked.
Shortly before dawn he opened the door of the maid's room. She had thrown off the covers and was lying naked in her bed. He stood looking at her for a long time before leaving.
When she woke up he was no longer there.
PART IX
The Imprint of
the German Deserter
CHAPTER