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

colour photograph. Tornaby School 1981, Year 1 is written neatly beside it.

There are only fifteen children in the class. Some of them are shyly looking down or away, others are more interested in the camera or the photographer. Kerstin is at the far side. She’s about twenty-five years old with long, dark blonde hair. Her face is young, full of energy.

‘There he is.’

David is in the back row; he’s easily recognisable. His mother Ingrid probably knitted the sweater he’s wearing.

‘And there’s Jeanette.’

Kerstin points to a girl with an Asian appearance in the front row. She’s wearing dungarees and a blue hair band, and she’s beaming at the camera. Thea can see the gap between her slightly too large front teeth.

Jeanette’s ethnicity comes as a surprise. Thea has never met her, and somehow she’s always imagined her with blonde hair and freckles, as if all children who grew up in the country automatically looked like Pippi Longstocking. Ridiculous, of course.

‘Jeanette was usually top of the class, except in Maths.’ Kerstin moves her finger to a third child, a shy-looking boy with cropped hair and glasses that are much too big for his face. ‘Sebastian was the mathematician. His parents moved here from Poland when he was a baby. He was a wonderful boy, quiet but kind. And as I said, very gifted when it came to Maths.’

‘And David?’

‘He was good too, especially when it came to his verbal skills. He knew how to capture an audience.’

Kerstin turns the pages, stops at a newspaper cutting from Helsingborgs Dagblad.

‘Look at this.’

David, Nettan and Sebastian again, a few years older now. Nettan has grown into her front teeth, Sebastian into his glasses. David is displaying an early version of that charming smile.

TORNABY TRIO’S SUCCESS IN RADIO QUIZ

Thea skims the text. David is quoted the most; he says he wants to be a fighter pilot and fly a Saab 37 Viggen when he grows up. Nettan wants to be an actress or a company director, or a musician because she plays the piano. Sebastian has the least to say. He wants to be an engineer like his father, or maybe a chess player.

‘They went all the way to the semi-final – lost by one point to the team that won the whole thing.’ Kerstin’s voice is filled with pride. ‘I know teachers shouldn’t have favourites, every class and every pupil is special in their own way – but there’s something about your first class. I can still remember all their names, and their parents were so supportive. I’d only just qualified, and I’d never set foot in Skåne, but the village welcomed me with open arms and made me feel at home right away.’

‘So how come you ended up in Tornaby of all places?’ Thea asks.

‘Oh, the usual reason when someone moves halfway across the country – love. It didn’t work out, but I fell in love with the area instead. I rented the lodge, got myself a horse, and that was that.’

‘And you’re not afraid of the dark?’ Dr Andersson interjects, as if she’s feeling left out of the conversation. ‘I’d be too scared to live out here in the marsh on my own, with no neighbours for several kilometres.’

Kerstin shakes her head. ‘After a tiring day in school I appreciate the peace and quiet. And of course I have the horses and Vanderbilt here to keep me company.’ She points to the cat, who has moved from the floor to the sofa. ‘I love this house, and the forest, and I intend to stay here as long as I have my health, and the foundation allows.’

She pauses, catches a sneeze in a handkerchief that she produces from her sleeve. Then she turns her attention to the scrapbook once more. Another newspaper article, a much later date.

BELOVED TORNABY TEACHER CELEBRATES TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY

‘That was 2006. The house was full of flowers, and Jeanette came all the way from Switzerland to see me!’

She shows Thea a large colour photograph with smiling people arranged in two rows. There is a banner above them:

CONGRATULATIONS, MISS MILLER! WE LOVE YOU!

It takes a few seconds for Thea to realise that this is the same group who were in the first picture, in the same room and standing in exactly the same places twenty-five years later. The rounded, childish faces have acquired beards and double chins, the serviceable school clothes have been replaced by smart shirts, jackets and pretty dresses.

David is handsome now, his teeth are sparkling white and his gaze is full of confidence. Nettan has shaken off her provincial roots and is wearing a trouser suit. Her hair and make-up are perfect – she is a businesswoman to her fingertips.

‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ Kerstin sounds even prouder, if that were possible. ‘They did it for me – as a surprise!’

The new version of Sebastian has swapped his glasses for contact lenses, and his hair is clearly thinning, even though he can’t be much more than thirty in the photograph.

‘Sebastian did his doctorate in Lund, then started a business with some friends. Microprocessors – very technical. The company was bought up by Sony, and he made a fortune. He bought a big house in Poland for his parents when they retired.’

‘How lovely.’ Thea can’t think of anything else to say.

She thinks she recognises someone else – a square-built man with a fleshy face. He’s wearing an ill-fitting blazer, and he looks extremely uncomfortable.

‘Isn’t he the guy who was up the ladder outside?’

‘Jan-Olof? Yes, that’s right. He was the fourth member of their little gang. A quartet, you could call them.’

The final sentence hangs awkwardly in the air, and suddenly Thea thinks back to the Polaroid photo. Four children in the spring of 1986.

‘Could I just check something?’ She points to the scrapbook.

‘Of course.’

Thea leafs through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for.

TORNABY SCHOOL 1986, YEAR 6

She runs her finger over the faces, spots David and his three friends. Dr Andersson clears