BooksBarbecue
Back Cabin Fever Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Alex Dahl
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. Prologue
  9. Part I
  10. 1
  11. 2
  12. 3
  13. 4
  14. 5
  15. 6
  16. 7
  17. 8
  18. 9
  19. 10
  20. 11
  21. 12
  22. 13
  23. 14
  24. 15
  25. 16
  26. 17
  27. 18
  28. 19
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. 23
  33. 24
  34. 25
  35. 26
  36. 27
  37. 28
  38. 29
  39. 30
  40. 31
  41. 32
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. Part II
  55. 45
  56. 46
  57. 47
  58. 48
  59. 49
  60. 50
  61. 51
  62. 52
  63. 53
  64. 54
  65. 55
  66. 56
  67. 57
  68. 58
  69. 59
  70. 60
  71. Part III
  72. 61
  73. 62
  74. 63
  75. 64
  76. 65
  77. 66
  78. 67
  79. 68
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. Epilogue
  89. Five months later
  90. Acknowledgements
  91. About the Author
  92. An Invitation from the Publisher

Eirik goes over to the kitchen nook and I place the laptop on the table. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t bought my lie about it being my work laptop and insisting on seeing it. I watch him make the coffee and we sit in silence, the air filled with the loud whine from the kettle as the water gets closer and closer to boiling, and the groan of the refrigerator too. Eirik kicks the side of the refrigerator and it instantly stops. The kettle boils and snaps off. It’s totally quiet except for the sound of Eirik stirring milk into my coffee, the spoon scraping against the porcelain mug. He looks up and realizes I’m staring at him. When our eyes meet, I suddenly grasp hold of a vague sensation I had moments ago – there was something about the way he nudged Leah’s refrigerator and knew how to make it stop. Something familiar.

69

Kristina

Eirik hands me the coffee. I blow on it, sending ripples onto its surface.

‘What is it?’ asks Eirik, and again, I catch sight of something cool in the way he is looking at me, as though he is trying to analyze my thoughts. I remind myself that he can’t and focus on making my face soft and relaxed. I feel uncomfortable holding his gaze, it suddenly feels like the gaze of a stranger. I glance around the room, careful to avoid Elisabeth’s picture – I don’t want Eirik to notice it. I’m wondering how he got through the barrier from the main road to the private track leading to the parking space for Bekkebu; I locked it behind me.

‘Nothing,’ I say and wince exaggeratedly. ‘I’m in quite a bit of pain.’ This is true. But also, I’m afraid. For the first time in my life, I’m afraid of my husband.

70

Kristina

Eirik returns to the digging, and for a long while I just sit in silence, staring at the timber walls, at Elisabeth’s picture, at the laptop on the table in front of me. I know that what Leah wrote is true. I already know what happened; Elisabeth told me before she died, but I don’t remember it. I don’t want to remember, that’s the truth. I can build the images Leah describes in my mind, like any reader could, but still it is as though they are being constructed by her descriptions, rather than drawn from my own memories. I don’t have any memories of my own from those moments, the last of Trine Rickard’s life. Until now, because Leah unleashed them.