Free The Savage Altar by Åsa Larsson Page B

snow.
    Sanna sat with her cheek resting on the cold window, winding a lock of her hair tightly around her finger.
    “Can’t you just say something,” she said after a while.
    “I’m not used to driving on roads like this,” said Rebecka. “I find it difficult to talk and drive at the same time.”
    She could hear how obvious the lie was, as clear as a reef just below the surface of the water. But it didn’t matter. Perhaps that’s what she wanted. She looked at the clock. Quarter to eight.
    Don’t start anything, she told herself firmly. You’ve rescued Sanna. Now you have to row her to the shore.
    “Do you think the girls will be all right?” she asked.
    “They’ll have to be,” replied Sanna, straightening up in her seat. “And we won’t be long, will we? I daren’t ring anybody to ask for help; the fewer people who know where I am, the better.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m frightened of journalists. I know what they can be like. And then there’s Mum and Dad… but let’s talk about something else.”
    “Do you want to talk about Viktor? About what happened?”
    “No. I’ll be telling the police soon anyway. We’ll talk about you, that’ll calm me down. How are things with you? Is it really seven years since we saw each other?”
    “Mmm,” replied Rebecka. “But we’ve had the odd chat on the phone.”
    “To think you’ve still got the house in Kurravaara.”
    “Well, Uncle Affe and Inga-Lill don’t think they can afford to buy me out. I think they’re annoyed because they’re the only ones putting work and money into the house. But on the other hand, they’re the only ones getting any pleasure out of it as well. I’d like to sell it really. To them or to somebody else, it’s all the same to me.”
    She wondered whether what she had just said was true. Did she really get no pleasure from her grandmother’s house, or from the cottage in Jiekajärvi? Just because she was never there? Just the thought of the cottage, the idea that there was somewhere that belonged to her, far away from civilization, deep in the wilderness, beyond marsh and forest, wasn’t that a kind of pleasure in itself?
    “You look, how shall I put it, really smart,” said Sanna. “And sure of yourself, somehow. Of course, I always thought you were pretty. But now you look as if you’ve come straight out of one of those TV series. Your hair looks great too. I just let mine grow wild, then cut it myself.”
    Sanna ran her fingers through her thick, pale curls with an air of self-assurance.
    I know, Sanna, thought Rebecka angrily. I know that you’re the fairest in all the land. And that’s without spending a fortune on haircuts and clothes.
    "Can’t you just chat a bit," whined Sanna. "I feel absolutely terrible, but I did say sorry. And I’m just rigid with fear. Feel my hands, they’re freezing."
    She took one hand out of its sheepskin glove and reached toward Rebecka.
    She’s not right in the head, thought Rebecka furiously, keeping her hands firmly clamped on the wheel. She’s totally fucking crazy.
    Feel my hand, Rebecka, it’s shaking. It’s really cold. I love you so much, Rebecka. If you were a boy I’d fall in love with you, did you know that?
    “That’s a nice dog you’ve got,” said Rebecka, making an effort to keep her voice calm.
    Sanna drew back her hand.
    “Yes,” she said. “Virku. The girls love her. We got her from a Sami lad we know. His father wasn’t looking after her properly. Not when he was drinking, at any rate. But he didn’t manage to ruin her. She’s such a happy dog, and so obedient. And she really loves Sara, did you notice that? How she keeps putting her head on Sara’s knee. It’s really nice, because the girls have been so unlucky with pets over the last year or so.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes—well, I don’t know if ‘unlucky’ is the right word. Sometimes they’re just so irresponsible. I don’t know what it is with them. Last spring the rabbit escaped because