question was always "How are you?" Nowadays, the first thing you do is fix a geographical location – "Where are you?" – before you ask about a person's health.'
'I can hardly hear what you're saying.'
'I'm at Central Station. Trains are coming and going. People are dashing back and forth.'
'Are you going away?'
'I've just come back, from Katrineholm of all places. Where are you?'
'I'm standing beside Henrik's grave.'
Nazrin's voice faded away, but returned almost immediately.
'Are you up north?'
'I'm standing by his grave. It's snowing. It's white everywhere.'
'I wish I was there with you. I'll go to the ticket office. It's quieter in there.'
Louise heard the background noise fade away, to be replaced by individual voices that boomed forth and then fell silent.
'Can you hear me better now?'
Nazrin's voice seemed very close. Louise could almost hear her breathing.
'I can hear you loud and clear.'
'You just vanished. I wondered what was going on.'
'I've been on a long journey. It's been shattering, frightening. I need to see you. Can you come here?'
'Can't we meet halfway? I've got my brother's car on loan while he's abroad. I like driving.'
Louise remembered that she and Artur had once taken a break in Järvsö on a journey to Stockholm. Maybe that was about halfway? She suggested that they should meet there.
'I've no idea where Järvsö is. But I'll find it. I can be there tomorrow. How about meeting at the church? Two o'clock?'
'Why at the church?'
'Surely there must be a church in Järvsö? Can you think of a better place? You can always find a church.'
When they'd finished talking Louise went to the church in Sveg. She remembered having been there as a child, all by herself, to look at the big altarpiece and imagine the Roman soldiers striding out of the picture and capturing her. She'd called it the terror game. She'd toyed with her own fear in that church.
Louise left early the next morning. It had stopped snowing, but the road could well be icy. She wanted to have plenty of time. Artur stood outside the door, naked from the waist up despite the temperatures below freezing, to wave goodbye.
They met at the church, which was on an island in the middle of the River Ljusnan, at the agreed time. Nazrin arrived in an expensive Mercedes. The clouds had receded, the sun had broken through, early winter had taken a step backwards and it was autumn once more.
Louise asked if Nazrin was in a hurry to go back home.
'I can stay until tomorrow.'
'There's a fine traditional hotel here called Järvsöbaden. I don't think it's exactly high season now.'
They were allocated two rooms in one of the wings. Louise asked Nazrin if she'd like to go for a walk, but she shook her head. Not yet. What she wanted to do now was talk.
They sat in one of the drawing rooms. An old grandfather clock was ticking away in a corner. Nazrin was absent-mindedly fingering some spots on her cheek. Louise decided to take the bull by the horns.
'It's not easy for me to say this. But I have to do it. Henrik was HIV-positive. Ever since I discovered that I've gone through agonies, thinking about you.'
Louise had been worrying about how Nazrin would react to the news. What would she have felt in Nazrin's place? But she had not expected what actually happened.
'I know.'
'Did he tell you?'
'He said nothing about it. Not until after he was dead.'
Nazrin opened her handbag and took out a letter.
'Read this.'
'What is it?'
'Read it!'
The letter was from Henrik. It was short. He explained how he had discovered that he was HIV-positive, but he hoped that he had been sufficiently careful to ensure that he had not passed the infection on to her.
'I received this a few weeks ago. It came from Barcelona. Somebody must have posted it after they'd heard that he was dead. I'm sure that's how he'd arranged it. He was always going on about what to do if something happened. I always used to think he was going over the top. I know different now, of course, when it's too late.'
Blanca must have had that letter hidden away somewhere when Louise and Aron visited her. He must have given her strict instructions: Only send this if and when I die.
'I was never worried. We always took precautions. I went for tests, of course. No problem.'
'Can you imagine how much I was dreading this conversation?'
'Perhaps. But Henrik would never have exposed me to danger.'
'But if he didn't know he