It had been careless, prejudiced, and not all that clever of Sandra. She could have died as a result of her narrow-mindedness and preconceived notions. Who knew what Gunilla Hallin would have managed to do, if Jan hadn’t thrown his weight around noisily and taken direct action in a way others might not have? What would have happened if Sandra had knocked back the apple juice too? The plan must have been to get rid of Sandra. Or Erik. Or both of them. Perhaps it had been a final attempt to clean up all the loose ends—this time in one fell swoop.

The thought made her feel dizzy. Sandra had had some forewarning, although despite all the drama that had preceded the incident, she hadn’t taken her own anxiety sufficiently seriously. But she had been lucky. She had received help from an unexpected quarter. And she had learned some important lessons about not putting the well-being of herself and those closest to her in the hands of fate: in the future she shouldn’t take obvious warning signs so lightly; she ought to avoid putting herself in risky situations.

That was what Sandra promised herself as the door opened and a three-year-old’s expectant little face cracked into a sunny smile before he ran to the bed and climbed into his mother’s arms. The joy couldn’t have been greater in either of them.

78. Kerstin

78

Kerstin

SANDRA HAD CALLED ahead and warned that she was on the way round to Kerstin’s flat in Bingeby. Kerstin was worried about what Sandra would make of the neighbourhood dominated by blocks of flats and looking so tired in the depths of July; it was a far cry from the roses and ruins of historic Visby and the slightly mad week dominated by visiting politicians taking place within the old walls. Kerstin had thus far been no more than a voice to Sandra. A voice and an assortment of life experiences. She hoped that Sandra wouldn’t be too disappointed, that she wouldn’t have to cope with the same mistrust in Sandra’s eyes that had materialised in her parents’.

Her worries turned out to be unfounded. Sandra was beaming when she turned up, and embraced her without any prior examination. Kerstin concluded that it could be one of three things: Sandra had already checked her out at a distance to prepare for their first meeting, Sandra had been prepared for the worst after what had passed between them in their calls, or Sandra didn’t care about Kerstin’s appearance since she knew who she was. Kerstin hoped it was the last.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Kerstin.”

“Sorry,” Kerstin said awkwardly for the third or fourth time.