She goes into the house and hears voices from the kitchen. There is a pair of Wellington boots next to Agnes’s shoes; for a moment she thinks they are Klein’s, but realises they are too small. The wood-burning stove has been lit, the room is warm and welcoming. Agnes is sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Opposite her is a thin woman in her seventies; she is wearing glasses and a headscarf. Her oilskin jacket is not unlike Klein’s, and the similarities don’t end there; the woman’s facial expression is equally reserved, controlled. The contrast between the older woman and Agnes, with her ripped jeans, pink hair and exaggerated makeup couldn’t be greater, and yet they seem to be getting along very well.

‘This is Elisabet,’ Agnes says. ‘She’s the one who gave me a lift.’

The woman stands up and holds out a skinny hand with prominent blue veins on the back. ‘Elisabet Vidje – I’m your landlady.’ She has a strong accent, like a Skåne nobleman in an old film. ‘You have a delightful daughter.’

‘Thank you,’ Anna replies. ‘And thank you for bringing her home.’

‘No problem. We bumped into each other at the station, and Tabor is on my way.’

Elisabet sits down, perching on the edge of her chair. She holds the handle of her teacup between her index finger and thumb, as if she would rather not touch things unnecessarily. Her voice is clear.

‘Agnes tells me she wants to be a photographer, and that her father encouraged her. I believe your ex-husband is dead?’

‘Yes.’ Anna is surprised by the other woman’s directness, and by the fact that Agnes has already opened up to a stranger. At the same time, she can’t help being annoyed; as usual, Håkan is the hero, according to Agnes.

‘How did he die?’

‘Cancer.’ If she says any more, she is bound to stammer.

‘My condolences. My father was about the same age when he died – heart attack.’ She turns to Agnes. ‘He also thought education was important.’ She takes a sip of her tea. ‘His dream was that my older sister, Ebba, and I would go to the University of Lund. Make something of ourselves.’

‘And was that what you wanted?’ Agnes asks.

Elisabet tilts her head on one side, and she compresses her lips into a thin line. Anna is about to steer the conversation away from such a personal question, make an apologetic gesture indicating that Agnes is still a little too young to understand social norms, but to her surprise Elisabet speaks first.