Free Shadow by Karin Alvtegen Page A

pastry bag she vanished into the kitchen. He bent down, pulled off his shoes and followed her. She was sitting on one of the chairs when he entered the room.
    ‘Look at this.’
    She pulled up the legs of her trousers and looked at him urgently. He peered at her feet and calves.
    ‘Do you see it?’
    ‘See what?’
    ‘Don’t tell me you can’t see it.’
    He leaned forward and looked more closely.
    ‘What am I supposed to see?’
    ‘It’s swollen. The right calf. Can’t you see it?’
    She pointed. He kept his eyes on the linoleum and tried to hide how disgusted he was. She released her trouser legs and let them drop over her calves. Then she reached for a newspaper clipping on the table. Triumphantly she handed it to him. He straightened up and scanned the text.
    ‘But you’ve already had your kidneys checked, and they didn’t find anything wrong.’
    ‘That was four months ago. I can feel that there’s something wrong now. Everything matches with that list. See for yourself. Headache in the morning, fatigue, itching, swollen legs. I know something is wrong.’
    He turned round and went to put the bag of buns on the worktop.
    ‘I made an appointment at the Sophia Clinic,’ she said.
    With his back to her he closed his eyes. He knew what another doctor’s visit would mean: the brave attempts by the staff to conceal their irritation over Alice Ragnerfeldt’s constant demands for new examinations, which took away time from the patients who were really sick.
    ‘Shall I put on some coffee?’
    ‘It’s in the thermos. The appointment’s on the eleventh at 8.50 in the morning. Can you drive me there?’
    He took out three cups and three plates from the cupboard.
    ‘I’ll have to check my diary.’
    He had intended to finish the sentence by saying that otherwise they’d have to ask Louise, but he was instantly back to the morning’s conversation. The mere thought of her gave him heart palpitations.
    ‘Otherwise we’ll probably have to ask Louise,’ she said. ‘But I’d rather have you drive me.’
    He didn’t answer, just opened the bag and took out the buns.
    ‘Where’s your cake tray?’
       
    Marianne Folkesson buzzed the intercom at exactly the appointed time. During the minutes that had passed between the cake tray and the intercom, they had discussed a mouldy smell underneath the bathtub. Alice claimed that it appeared every time water ran down the drain, and that her sore hip started bothering her when she tried to clean it. Jan-Erik had once tried to convince his mother that he should arrange for some cleaning help for her, but as usual she wouldn’t hear of it. She didn’t want some stranger snooping through her belongings. She thought all she needed was for Jan-Erik and Louise to help out with what she couldn’t manage by herself. After all, they did live so close by.
       
    Alice was sitting on the sofa in the living room when Jan-Erik let in Marianne Folkesson. He guessed she was about his own age, maybe a year or two older. Not bad-looking, but a bit too old for his taste. Anyway, his hunting grounds never encroached on territory occupied by his family.
    Alice remained seated as they shook hands, watching discreetly. Jan-Erik invited Marianne to have a seat in one of the armchairs and served her coffee. His mother put a hand over her cup when the thermos came near. It had been difficult to convince her to attend this meeting. She didn’t think there was any reason for them to get involved in Gerda Persson’s passing. But he was more ambivalent. Naturally he had said yes when Marianne asked him, but there was a certain discomfort stirring in the shadows. Gerda belonged to a past time that he would prefer to leave undisturbed. The house that now stood empty was just as they had left it, but it still required attention and upkeep. The decision about its fate had been postponed with the excuse that his father was still alive. Sell it, turn it into a museum, move in therethemselves