yet beaten him at Fortnite and yet still played without complaint, who took him to the Hammarby IF handball games in Eriksdalshallen and went skiing off-piste with him whilst the girls did the bunny runs, who watched all the Bond films in one week with him when he’d broken his leg. He had never even questioned it.
He looked back towards the room, its door firmly shut, no sound escaping from it now. ‘So he’s my godfather?’
Hanna hesitated, then gave another shrug, the action careless and cold. ‘Yes.’ She took his hand in hers and kissed it, her decision made, her resolve growing again. ‘Like I said, just someone I used to know.’
Linus softened, accepting the lie, the tension slackening in his face. ‘So then, can we get ice cream now?’
Another pause, and Bell saw invisible doors to the truth slamming between them and clicking to a lock.
‘Sure,’ Hanna smiled, getting up and – still holding his hand – beginning to swing his arm as they turned and walked down the corridor, as though they were in the park.
Bell stood rooted to the spot as she watched them go ahead, walking without a backward glance from the room where a man lay distressed, withered – and now abandoned. He had spent seven years here on the brink of death, trapped in a half-life, but his injuries had robbed him of far more than his consciousness. He couldn’t know it yet, but, Bell thought as she followed slowly after his wife and son in silent dismay, he was soon going to realize that waking up had been the easy part.
Part Two
Chapter Five
Six months later – June 2020
‘The dolls’ house? Really?’ Bell asked, looking down at the pink plastic monstrosity. It had a purple handle shaped like a hairbrush. An oversized doll had been squashed into one of the rooms, leaving its backside dangling alarmingly through the window.
‘Mamma said we could!’ Tilde protested, looking up at her imploringly.
‘Well, I guess if Mamma says it’s okay . . .’ Bell sighed, blowing out through her cheeks as she looked around at the ever-increasing pile of toys surrounding the never-diminishing pile of bags on the floor.
Max came running back through, ready to cart the next load into the car. ‘Right, we’re nearly – Oh!’
Bell gave him an ‘exactly’ look.
‘That wasn’t there a minute ago, was it?’
‘Mamma said we could!’ Tilde repeated, just as Hanna herself came down the stairs with a gently enquiring glance.
‘Well, if Mamma says it’s okay, I guess it’s okay,’ Max shrugged, picking up the dolls’ house in one hand and Linus’s new skateboard and ramp in the other, soft bags shoved under his arms.
Hanna shot them all a distracted smile as she walked through into the kitchen. It was the usual chaotic mess in spite of Bell’s best efforts to keep it tidy; the weaponry involved in making Linus’s emergency sandwich was still on the counter, Max’s files were spread across the table, and the twins’ costumes for the upcoming Midsommar festival had once again been pulled from the dressing-up box and strewn across the floor during a game of ‘weddings’.
Bell grabbed the stray garments as she jogged in, folded them expertly into neat piles, and set to wiping off the crumbs and putting the dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, ready for Max to put it on tonight. He was on a deadline for his new client, and would be only coming to join them at the end of the week.
‘Did you find the beach towels?’ Hanna asked her, checking for something in her purse.
‘Yes. They were in the blue Ikea bag at the top of the wardrobe in the spare room.’
Hanna stopped, as if to consider this. ‘Oh yes. I didn’t think to look there. Huh.’
‘And Linus has packed his project,’ Bell said, half over her shoulder as she rinsed the glasses that had been left in the sink.
She stopped again. ‘Remind me . . .?’
‘Glacial retreat in the Arctic Circle.’
‘Oh yes.’ Hanna zipped up her purse and replaced it in her bag, pulling out the tickets and casually skimmed over the details; but Bell already knew the reason Max was red-cheeked and wild-eyed was because they had to leave in precisely six minutes if they were going to make it to the ferry.
She turned off the tap and shook her hands dry, realizing too late that she had forgotten to plant out the potted rose Hanna had received as a gift from a patient.