The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,55

and that's why he doesn't want to have children with me, because he already has one. And he's probably paying child maintenance to her. She gasped for air. She planted her palms on the floor for support. She returned the photo to the envelope the way she had found it, as her mind started to freewheel. What if he was one of them? She barely had the strength to voice her fears in her own mind. One of those who abused children. No, not Reinhardt, it was a ludicrous thought, almost hysterical. But the little girl with the naked shoulders, what was that about? She took the photograph out of the envelope and studied it once more. She did not look like Reinhardt, in fact, she did not even look Norwegian, her eyes and hair were so dark. She put the photograph back in the envelope, put the envelope back in the file and placed her passport in her handbag. She sat down on the sofa to wait and looked out of the window at the fading light. Then she went to the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She clutched the sink as she slowly counted to ten. It could not be true. She was tired and wanted to sleep, but she did not want to go to bed, she was unable to relax. She kept seeing the child with the naked shoulders and her strange, almost pleading, eyes. She started demolishing her marriage. Everywhere she found something she had previously overlooked, tiny, ugly signs. In bed he often displayed a mixture of distance and brutality. He lives in this house with me, I can't stand it any longer. It's wrong. I've lost my way. She lay down on the sofa wishing it would swallow her up. She lay there watching the hands of the clock on the wall.

CHAPTER 34

'Why are you sleeping on the sofa?'

Reinhardt's voice cut across the room.

'Where have you been?' she gasped as she struggled to sit up. She held the blanket against her chest as a form of protection because he was a different Reinhardt now, someone she no longer knew.

'I went for a drive,' he said indifferently. 'I needed some fresh air.'

'It's almost two o'clock in the morning,' she burst out. 'You've been gone for hours.'

'I needed some time on my own,' he said. 'Now calm down, sweetheart.'

'You could have told me,' she replied. 'I would have understood.'

He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and returned with a can of beer in his hand.

'I don't have to be accountable to you for my every move,' he said, lifting the can to his lips. She folded the blanket neatly and got up from the sofa.

'I'm going to bed,' she said. Her voice was strained.

'You're not looking at me,' he said suddenly. 'Are you angry about something?'

She could not think of an answer. All she could think of was the photograph in the folder. What would Reinhardt say if she confronted him with it? No, she did not dare, he was very tall and broad as he stood there in front of her.

'There's no need to make a drama out of it,' he said. 'I'm here now and you managed to have a nap on the sofa. It's really no big deal.'

'Goodnight,' she said, heading for the door.

He sat down and put the beer can on the coffee table with a bang.

'You're really quite sweet,' he said softly, 'but you can be a bit uptight.'

She turned around and looked at him. 'I'm so sorry,' she said tartly. 'But I had no idea where you were or what you were doing. I'm going to bed now. That sofa is not very comfortable to sleep on, but I was too worried to go to bed. But I will now. Goodnight.'

She went out into the hall and ran up the fifteen steps to the bedroom. She rarely told him off and she was scared now. She crept underneath the duvet where she listened out for sounds coming from the ground floor. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, but she felt wide awake. Her eyes sought out the darkness in the room she knew so well, the room they had shared for many years. It was only a question of time before Reinhardt would come up the stairs and lie down next to her. She did not know if she could bear to have him so close, given what she knew now. And