for you, coming back and finding the world so changed.’
‘It was just one of the things I had to adapt to, like muscular atrophy,’ he said shortly, clearly not wanting her pity; not wanting any connection at all. He drank the shake in one long gulp, grimacing as he swallowed the last bit, staring at the empty glass like it owed him one.
‘Christer is ready.’ Måns was back at the door again.
‘Right.’ He sighed, handing back the empty plate. ‘Happy?’
‘Delighted, sir.’
He looked back at Bell stiffly, his green eyes still low-simmering with anger and resentment. ‘Well, goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’ She felt herself loosen as he left the room, taking all the air with him. She felt jarred and dislocated, rattled not just by his presence but by his absence too, her eyes lingering on the space he had just occupied as though he had warmed the air. She looked away abruptly, feeling a tangled knot of emotions in her stomach. Why him? Why did it have to be him? Would he still have an effect on her if Midsommar’s had never happened? She had hardly fallen at his feet outside Westerbergs, after all.
Then again, he had kept himself largely hidden behind his cap and glasses then, and she wasn’t sure she could ever be unmoved by his eyes and the depths she saw in them. There was a hairline fracture that drew a jagged line all the way through him, and she recognized it because there was one running through her too. They were both haunted by their own pasts, hollowed out by loss, and that made them kindred spirits on one level – even if on this one, they were bitterly opposed.
She remembered his face at her words, the flash of pain amid the anger. ‘It was a mistake.’ They had been the right words to say, because they were true – it was a mistake.
Unfortunately, just not one she regretted.
She awoke with a start, glancing round the room in a panic, trying to get her bearings. It took a moment to remember where she was. She was lying on top of the bed, still dressed, and the paperback thriller was still in her hand; she had fallen asleep mid-sentence. Linus wasn’t the only one who’d been drained by the day’s revelations.
She closed the book and stretched, her neck feeling stiff from the odd angle, seeing her phone flash with notifications. She picked it up – eight messages from Hanna checking on their day, a barely subdued note of panic in each one.
Quickly Bell replied, doing her best to reassure her boss, which meant omitting the fact that Emil had – unbelievably – not even bothered to be there to greet them. ‘Sorry, been a busy day. Lots of exploring the island, found the hidden beach. Initial meeting with E was fine. L quiet and shy but to be expected tbh. E didn’t push it and was quite light touch, thankfully. L now fast asleep after a good dinner. Shall I get him to text you in the morning? Bx’
All the lights were still on in the room, her windows open, and she saw moths were fluttering in, the ceiling speckled with dozens of tiny thunder bugs. She got up and closed the shutters, keeping the windows open to allow for a breeze. It was a sticky night.
What had disturbed her? she wondered. Was Linus awake? She stood still for a moment and listened for a sound coming through the wall. She could hear something, like voices whispering, but it was coming from the hallway. Was he going to the bathroom? Sleepwalking?
She opened the door and peered out through the crack. Linus’s door beside hers was still closed, everything silent and dark behind it, but down the far end of the corridor she could make out shapes. She opened the door a little wider and frowned as she saw someone being half walked, half dragged. His legs kept buckling, his head dropping down, and the man with him was struggling to hold his arm around his neck.
‘Come on, Emil. We’re nearly there,’ the man was panting. ‘Lock those knees, buddy.’
She watched as he bent forward awkwardly to open the door at the farthest end of the hall, and they staggered in together.
Bell closed her door again, her heart racing; she had a sense she had seen something she shouldn’t have. Had Emil collapsed? Was he physically frail? He was lean for his frame, but he’d seemed strong enough to her that