Rites of Spring, Anders Motte [reading diary .TXT] 📗

installed a telephone answering machine so that friends can leave little messages for her.

Every afternoon at four o’clock, Sister Aubert or one of her colleagues presses the button and plays the latest messages. They usually leave the room, but not when she has called. The Swede. That’s what they call her, even though they know her name is Thea.

It is all Sister Papin’s fault. She was the one who started listening to the Swede’s story, then passed it on to the others.

A story about a castle and a dead girl.

As the days went by they all found a reason to be in room fourteen at four o’clock to hear the next instalment. Sat there in silence while the Swede told the tale of how she had slowly begun to untangle old secrets.

They have no idea whether the story is true. Maybe the Swede is making it up, maybe it’s something she’s read in a book, but they don’t care. They simply sit there together and sometimes, although she knows it’s impossible, Sister Aubert gets the feeling that the patient is listening as intently as they are.

They thought it was all over when the ambulance drove away with poor Hubert, and Per finally revealed what had happened on that Walpurgis Night so many years ago. Several weeks have passed since then – but now there is a new message.

They hurry along the corridor, close the door of room fourteen behind them. Settle down around the bed as usual, before Sister Ribot presses ‘Play’.

‘Hi, Margaux, it’s me,’ says the Swede. She doesn’t sound quite as unhappy as she normally does. ‘I’m sorry it’s been so long; things have been a bit chaotic here. Ingrid and Arne have been arrested and are waiting to go to court. The police dredged the canal and recovered the pick-up and the Ford with the remains of Lasse, Eva-Britt and Lola inside, just as Kerstin said. The women will probably be buried next to Elita. For some reason that feels like a kind of consolation, that she won’t have to lie there alone anymore.

David has decided to sell the restaurant. He’s not going to work for a while; he wants to take care of his father. Nettan and Sebastian have returned home. I think they, like David, are relieved that the truth has finally come out. Jan-Olof definitely feels that way. His fall was a pure accident, and he’ll make a full recovery.

Hubert has promised to look after Emee for a while. The two convalescents will get better together, as he puts it. Neither he nor Per will face any charges. Elita’s death was also an accident, after all.

It was a lynx that killed the deer. The glycol Emee ingested came from a bait trap set by Erik Nyberg. A stupid idea, according to Per. Hubert made Erik pay the vet’s bill by way of an apology.

I also found out that it’s Hubert and Per who pay for the upkeep of Elita’s grave, and sometimes lay flowers upon it – but I’m sure you’d already worked that out, just as you’d worked out that it was Arne who locked me in the cellar at Svartgården, and who left the Green Man figures on my windscreen. As he said outside the hunting lodge, he was trying to scare me off so I’d stop digging.

I honestly don’t think Arne is a bad person. None of them are, not even Ingrid. She loves Bertil, her family and Tornaby. She’d do anything to protect them. In that respect she has certain similarities with my father. I’ve written his reprieve petition, in case you’re wondering. I might be angry with him, I might never be able to forgive him, but I can give him that.

You could call it grace.

I hope the others will also receive grace, especially David. He and I are talking again. We are friendly, almost affectionate, but we’ve agreed that divorce is the right course of action. Our journey together is finished. Just like yours and mine.

The story is almost over, Margaux. There is only one chapter left, and a confession. My own.

We will begin with the remaining chapter. I’ve asked a private detective to track down Leo in Canada. He deserves to know the truth. After all, he was the real spring sacrifice. I’m intending to go over there on my own. My first trip without you. It will feel very strange. At the same time, you are always with me, in my thoughts and in my heart.

And the confession. I’ve saved it until the end because it’s the most difficult part. Maybe it was Hubert who gave me the strength to admit to myself who I am. Or maybe it was Elita Svart.

Thea Lind was a disguise. An alter ego I hid behind until I met you. I only wish I’d told you while there was still time. I almost did, on several occasions. And now I’m doing it. Confessing to you who I really am.

You are the person you want to be. And I only want to be your beloved.

I love you, Margaux. I always will. You are the great love of my life.

I miss you so much.’

The message ends. There is total silence in the room. And it might be her imagination, later Sister Aubert is almost certain that it is, but at that moment she could swear that the patient in the bed beside her smiles.

Epilogue

The log cabin lies deep in the forest. The private detective drops her off at the end of the drive.

‘I’ll wait here,’ he says. ‘Good luck.’

Thea picks up her bag and sets off towards the house. It is warm. The trees are dark green, the air is still. There is a boat on a trailer on the drive, and a rack of fishing rods on the veranda.

Two girls aged four or five are playing on the lawn.

‘Hi!’ one of them says. ‘What do you want?’ She