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

David and also has fair hair, but Sebastian is considerably slimmer and has a bald patch stretching a long way back from his forehead. He comes across as a mixture of a professor and a dynamic entrepreneur – but once he was just a frightened twelve-year-old, Thea thinks.

Nettan turns up a few minutes later in a dark blue rental car, followed by David’s parents in their Mercedes. Ingrid is driving as usual.

David shows them up the castle steps. ‘This way, ladies and gentlemen.’ He’s in a good mood.

In the entrance hall they are met by two waitresses who serve champagne. David then guides the group through the great hall, telling them about the history of the castle. Thea listens with half an ear; she’s heard it before. Instead she discreetly studies Sebastian and Nettan. They are trying to act like old friends, yet they both seem a little stressed.

David stops by one of the portraits.

‘This is Isabelle Gordon, who drowned in the moat during the tragic winter of 1753, on her way to a secret tryst with her lover. The first of our two beautiful ghosts.’

Thea suddenly remembers a phrase from Elita’s letter.

Beautiful women dead that by my side. Once lay.

An odd construction, especially for a sixteen-year-old. Had Elita read it somewhere?

She recalls what Hubert told her about the two deaths, and wonders what David would say if he found out the truth. She suspects it wouldn’t matter. He has chosen a narrative that suits him, so the truth is less relevant. Just as she did when she became Thea Lind.

David continues his guided tour, taking them through the drawing room and into the newly renovated kitchen, where he spends almost fifteen minutes talking about the ultra-modern equipment. They then move on to the dining room.

The curtains are open and the spring sunshine floods in through the tall windows. The chairs and tables have been set out, white cloths and napkins are in place. The gold panelling on the walls shimmers, the crystal chandeliers sparkle, with the lovely ceiling paintings high above.

‘Space for ninety covers,’ David says proudly. ‘We’ve already got bookings well into the autumn.’

The doors to the terrace open, the waitresses return and top up their glasses. David pauses to chat to a member of staff and everyone starts mingling. Sebastian and his companion, whose name Thea didn’t catch, go over to talk to David’s parents. She decides to slip outside. This morning’s breeze has died down, and it’s warm enough to enjoy the fresh air without a jacket. She glances up at Hubert’s window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but there’s no sign. She thinks about the book, those beautiful, melancholy poems. About what he’d written on the flyleaf.

The strongest love is unrequited love.

For some reason the words make her feel better. They open a door inside her head to which her father has no access. To which no one has access.

She hears a movement behind her. Nettan has come out and is taking an e-cigarette out of her handbag when she sees Thea.

‘I’m trying to give up smoking,’ she says apologetically. ‘It’s not going too well, to be honest. These things aren’t the same at all.’

Thea pulls a face which she hopes is sympathetic.

Nettan clicks the cigarette, takes a drag and exhales a puff of vapour.

‘So what do you think about this circus? Can you cope?’

‘Of course. This is what David has wanted for a long time.’

Nettan shakes her head slowly.

‘David had no choice – we both know that. All this is down to Aunt Ingrid. She organised the whole thing – the castle, David, me and Sebastian. Brought the three of us together again after almost thirty years.’

Something in Nettan’s tone irritates Thea. Gives her a reason to express her frustration.

‘So why did you say yes, if you didn’t want to be involved?’

Nettan takes another drag. Exhales and gazes at Thea with a wry smile.

‘Because no one says no to Aunt Ingrid. I thought you’d have realised that by now.’

They end the tour upstairs as David shows off the recent renovations.

‘This used to be the old schoolroom,’ he says as they reach the bridal suite. It smells of paint and new furniture. The loft hatch is closed, barely visible against the freshly painted panel. Thea tries to picture Hubert in here, with only his governess for company.

A lonely little boy with no friends.

The thought makes her feel sad.

*

They have a light lunch in the breakfast room in the east wing. Their glasses are refilled, first with white wine, then red. Sebastian chats to David’s parents, but Nettan is preoccupied with her phone and seems bored. David notices.

‘We’re going to have coffee somewhere else,’ he announces. ‘I’ve organised a little surprise.’

He points to the courtyard where the local taxi firm’s minibus has just pulled up. Everyone gets to their feet, except for Ingrid and Bertil.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ Thea asks.

‘No, Bertil’s tired,’ her mother-in-law replies. ‘You young people go and enjoy yourselves without us.’

Thea is the last to board the minibus. The atmosphere is lighter now. Sebastian and David are telling Sebastian’s girlfriend a story; apparently her name is Bianca. Nettan is still busy with her phone.

As soon as they turn off the road into the forest, Thea realises where they’re going: to the hunting lodge and Kerstin Miller.

Maybe it’s her imagination, but the atmosphere seems to change again as they travel across the marsh; it’s more relaxed, yet at the same time highly charged. They follow the winding track. The greenery has grown thicker in just a few days, and the canal is barely visible in the dip below them.

None of the others seem bothered by their surroundings. David and Sebastian talk louder and louder, and now Nettan is involved in the story too. They talk over one another, until the volume is so overwhelming that Bianca starts to glance enquiringly at Thea.

Kerstin Miller is waiting for them outside the lodge, with Jan-Olof by her side. He’s smartened himself up; he’s wearing a shirt