‘Agnes turned up just after five,’ she says, her voice warm and gentle. ‘She’d tried Mats, but he hasn’t been in the mood for talking lately, and didn’t answer the door. He gets that way from time to time. I could see something was wrong, so I invited her in. Klein had shown me what was in the paper. About you . . .’

Elisabet stops, and Anna waits for the obvious question. But it doesn’t come.

‘We talked for quite a while, Agnes and I. About grief and loss. As you know, I have a certain amount of experience in that area.’ She smiles sadly, then nods towards a gate leading to the back of the house. ‘Do you mind if I take your arm again? I’m a little wobbly these days.’

Anna nods and links arms with Elisabet. They go through the gate and follow the path along by the house.

‘Karl-Johan loved Änglaberga.’ Elisabet waves in the direction of the generous garden and the valley beyond. ‘But in the end, he was too ill to be able to stay here. He was almost blind, and was becoming more and more confused. He’d get up in the night and wander around the estate and into the forest, looking for Simon. In the end I had no choice but to move him into a nursing home in town.’ She slowly shakes her head. ‘I know he’s well looked after there. He never complains, and he’s always pleased to see us.’

She falls silent as they pass below the terrace, heading towards a small flight of steps at the far end. There is an old bench next to them, like the one by Simon’s grave.

‘That’s what I told Agnes. I explained that sometimes you have to do things for those you care about. Difficult things, things that might break your heart. But you do them anyway – out of love.’

She stops and points to the steps. ‘Agnes is in the kitchen. I’m sure you’d like to be alone for a while, so I’ll wait here.’ She sits down on the bench, shoos Anna away with one hand when she doesn’t react quickly enough.

‘Go on, in you go. I’ll be fine.’

Anna slowly walks up the six steps and places her hand on the kitchen door handle. Agnes is sitting with her back to the window with her hair tucked behind her ear, emphasising the line of her jaw which is so like Håkan’s.

Tell her, he whispers without any warning. Her heart gives a little skip of joy. Do it now. Tell her the truth. The whole truth.

She doesn’t answer him, she simply stands there for a while, gazing at their beautiful daughter. Agnes becomes aware of her presence, and turns her head.