Free Buried Angels by Camilla Läckberg Page A

relationship that they’d had before the accident.
    Dan busied himself washing up the breakfast dishes, and she went over to put her arms around him, leaning her cheek against his back. But the only thing she felt in his tense body was frustration. It spread to her, making her desire for closeness disappear, at least for now. It was impossible to say whether the occasion would present itself again.
    With a sigh she let go of Dan and sat down at the kitchen table.
    ‘I need to get back to work,’ she said, picking up a slice of bread and reaching for the butter knife.
    Dan turned and leaned against the counter with his arms folded.
    ‘What kind of work?’
    Anna hesitated before saying, ‘I’d like to run my own business.’
    ‘That’s a great idea! What sort of business? A shop? I could check around to see what’s available.’
    Dan gave her a big smile, but somehow his eager response dampened her own enthusiasm. This was her idea, and she didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t explain why.
    ‘I want to do this myself,’ she said, noticing the sharp tone of her voice.
    The joy instantly vanished from Dan’s face.
    ‘Sure, go ahead,’ he said, going back to clattering the dishes.
    Shit, shit, shit. Anna silently cursed herself, clenching her hands into fists.
    ‘I’ve been thinking about opening a shop. But I’ll need to do all the furnishing myself, go sourcing antiques, and things like that.’ The words spilled out as she tried to recapture Dan’s attention. But he was making a lot of noise, washing the glasses and plates, and he didn’t respond. His back seemed rigid and unforgiving.
    Anna set the slice of bread down on her plate. She’d lost her appetite.
    ‘I’m going out for a while,’ she said, getting to her feet and heading out of the kitchen to go upstairs and get dressed. Dan still didn’t say a word.
     
    ‘How nice that you could join us for a spot of lunch,’ said Pyttan.
    ‘A pleasure to come over here and see how the other half lives.’ Sebastian laughed and gave Percy such a hard slap on the back that he coughed.
    ‘Well, you’re not exactly living in poverty.’
    Percy smiled to himself. Pyttan had never made it a secret what she thought of Sebastian’s ostentatious mansion with the two pools and tennis court. The house may have been smaller in size than Fygelsta manor, but it was much more lavish. ‘Money can’t buy taste,’ Pyttan used to say after they’d visited, turning up her nose at the gleaming gilded frames and the enormous crystal chandeliers. Percy was inclined to agree.
    ‘Come and sit down,’ he said, ushering Sebastian to the table that had been set for lunch out on the terrace. At this time of year Fygelsta was unbeatable. The beautiful park stretched as far as the eye could see. For generations it had been meticulously tended, but it wouldn’t be long before it would fall into neglect, just as the manor had done. Until he had worked out their finances, they would have to make do without gardeners.
    Sebastian sat down and leaned back in his chair, his sunglasses pushed up on his forehead.
    ‘Some wine?’ Pyttan held out a bottle of first-class Chardonnay. Much as she disliked the thought of asking Sebastian for help, Percy knew that his wife would do her utmost to support him now that the decision had been made. It wasn’t as if they had any other option.
    She filled Sebastian’s glass. Oblivious to the fact that it was her prerogative, as the hostess, to welcome her guest before he started eating, Sebastian immediately launched himself at the appetizer. He shovelled in a big forkful of shrimp salad with dill and began chewing with his mouth open. Percy saw Pyttan turn away in disgust.
    ‘So you’re having a little problem with your taxes, is that right?’
    ‘Yes, it’s a mess. I don’t know what to say.’ Percy shook his head. ‘Nothing seems sacred any more.’
    ‘How true. It doesn’t pay to work in this country,’ said