He sounded sad, but not in the way she wanted. Not because he was hurt, not because she’d crashed into his fucking fairy-tale world, but for some other reason. A reason she was too drunk or too stoned to work out. Whatever it was, it made her want to slap him across the face over and over again, wipe off that expression until she was certain, one hundred per cent certain, that he was feeling the same pain as her.

Chapter 15

15

Autumn 2017

The staff kitchen is deserted and quiet. The TV is on, but someone has muted the volume so that the actors in Emmerdale are mouthing silently.

‘Well, that’s just about it,’ Morell says as they sit down at the table. ‘Anything else you’d like me to explain?’

‘No, everything seems perfectly in order.’

‘Good. I’d really like to hand over the ship with the flag flying high.’ He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve spent most of the day going through everyone’s personnel files, and Morell has shown that he has his finger on almost every detail, which has increased Anna’s respect for him.

‘By the way, my retirement presentation has been postponed for a week,’ he goes on. ‘The county governor wants to be there, so we menial civil servants have no choice but to fit in with her schedule. However, that means this Friday is free, so Eva-Britt and I were wondering if you and your daughter would like to come to dinner at our place instead?’

‘That would be lovely!’

‘Good – shall we say six thirty? Casualwear, nothing formal. I’ll be the chef for the evening. Alexander and his girls are coming too.’

‘Six thirty is fine.’

‘Excellent.’

Anna is genuinely pleased, and she is slightly ashamed of her earlier concerns about Henry Morell. Apart from the first few minutes of their acquaintance, he has been nothing but helpful and welcoming, and now he’s invited her and Agnes to his home. She’s been wondering whether to mention Elisabet Vidje’s visit to him. She was tending towards yes anyway, and the invitation has tipped the scales.

‘Elisabet Vidje called round yesterday.’

‘Did she now.’ Morell puts down his cup. ‘Let me guess – she wanted to discuss Simon.’ He sighs. ‘I should probably have warned you, Anna. I was intending to do it the other day, but I didn’t want to bring up the old story in front of Alexander. He’s already suffered enough over something that happened when he was only nineteen.’

Morell scratches his beard, sighs again.