The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,70

precautions. And you didn't take them, did you?' Sejer looked at him closely. 'Jonas August is dead.'

Brein nodded. 'I just can't bear it,' he whispered.

'What happened to your marriage?' Sejer asked.

'It went down the drain, obviously,' he said. 'You know I had other needs. I felt I was playing a game, that I was false and miserable. And Irina felt neglected. So a distance was created between us and it grew over the years. I suppressed my real feelings until I was worn out. You don't know what it's like,' he groaned. 'It's exhausting.'

Sejer nodded.

'One morning she packed her suitcase and left,' he said, 'and I was all alone again. It was as if all ties were severed, I was cut adrift, I had nothing to hold on to. I was furious and angry and scared, I couldn't see straight. Other people don't have to worry,' he said. 'They're proud of how they feel, they think their feelings are good. That's what I think of mine. I would sit in my car and watch the kids from afar, while I daydreamed and fantasised.'

'You used to wait outside Solberg School, didn't you?'

'Yes. I liked the moment when the bell went and they poured out into the playground, like sweets out of a bag.'

'But you never touched them,' Sejer said. 'You only rolled down your window and talked to them?'

'I restrained myself,' Brein said. 'I'm forty-seven years old and I've always restrained myself. I just want you to know that.'

'You never invited them into your car?'

'I didn't dare,' he said. 'I couldn't trust myself completely. I would drive home and sit alone in my living room, alone with my longing. It's hard. It's like something inside is eating you up.'

'What was your job? Before you started receiving benefits?'

'I was a care assistant,' Brein said. 'I used to look after people. I really liked my job, I felt I mattered. But then the accident happened. I was knocked down on a crossing and injured. That was eight years ago. Since then I've spent a lot of time indoors. My only social life is the odd trip to the shops. And I watch telly all the time.'

'What was different about Jonas August?' Sejer asked. 'You finally made a choice; you invited him into your car. Tell me about it.'

Brein gripped the table.

'Yes,' he said. 'I'll tell you how it was. I'm fed up with all these rumours, that I'm a serial killer and worse, there are no limits to the stories in the papers. I drove around aimlessly. It wasn't the case that I had a plan, but I had a moment of weakness. I had passed Solberg Hill, I had just reached the forest and it was very quiet. No people, no cars, just green fields of kale. There is little traffic on that stretch of the road. I passed a few farms and houses, but apart from that I felt all alone. By that I mean all alone in the world. Anyone who is different is also lonely. For ever. I drove quite slowly, and I thought how lovely the scenery was. Perhaps you don't think people like me notice those kinds of things, that we only have one thing on our minds, but that's not the case.'

'Don't underestimate me,' Sejer said.

Brein looked up with a sudden smile. His smile made his eyes shine. It softened his features, and in a flash Sejer saw that there was another side to Brein. A side which would seem appealing to a child.

'I spotted a small boy in red shorts,' he said. 'He was walking on the right hand side of the road and he was holding a stick. I was struck by the thought that the boy belonged to me, that providence had sent him and that I would finally be granted what I had longed for my whole life. I noticed how skinny he was, almost fragile, like spun sugar. We were at the bottom of the hill. When he heard the car, he stopped and stepped on to the verge while staring at me with his huge blue eyes. You know how kids stare at you, they ignore all boundaries. Do you know that feeling?'

'I do,' Sejer said.

' "You got far to go?" I asked him. He shook his head. "I live just up there," he said, "at the top of the hill, in the white house with the veranda." "Would you do me a favour?" I asked him, and yes, he