‘Mari had been in contact with Tobias as well,’ I said. ‘Did he say anything about that to you?’

She shook her head.

‘So he hasn’t asked you any questions about Dad recently?’

‘Tobias? No…’ She paused, seemed to be thinking.

‘Well…’

Another pause. ‘He did ask if I knew what blood type Jimmy was.’

‘Blood type?’ I straightened up.

‘Yes, I don’t know why, but…’ Mum shrugged.

‘You didn’t ask?’

‘I guess I didn’t.’

I thought about this for a moment. ‘What actually happened that day?’ I asked.

‘What day?’

‘The day Daddy died.’

Mum gave me a questioning look. ‘Tell me you’re not serious,’ she said. ‘You want to talk about that now? When Tobias is missing?’

‘Yes,’ I said, trying to sound firm.

‘Why is that important now?’

‘I just need to know,’ I said.

Mum took a deep breath and sighed. ‘We’ve gone through it all before,’ she said.

‘Not really.’

‘I’ve got other things to think about.’

‘Sure. But…’

She pushed the duvet to one side and put her feet on the floor. She was fully dressed.

‘I’m starting to wonder if Mari maybe stumbled on something that got her killed.’

Mum turned around. Her look pierced me. ‘Stumbled over what?’

‘Something to do with Dad,’ I said. ‘And the accident.’

I didn’t even have time to react. The palm of her hand hit me square on the left cheek, so hard that my head twisted to the side. She wasn’t going to back down, either. She clearly didn’t think I would retaliate. She just stood there, glaring at me.

Then she left the room with a mad look on her face. My cheek was still stinging.

59

59

My mother had never laid a hand on me before, certainly not as far as I could remember. And now, when I was almost an adult, she had slapped me. She had actually slapped me!

What the fuck was that all about?

OK, my timing hadn’t been great, but did she need to slap me?

I was still bewildered when I snuck out of the bedroom and put my shoes on. Mostly I was furious. I didn’t look at Knut when I heard him coming out into the hall – I didn’t want him to see the red mark that felt like a warm cloth on my cheek. I left without saying a word.

It took me a while to calm down. I cycled around for a while, without any plan, but my cheek didn’t stop burning. I knew that my dad’s death had been difficult for her, but to slap me? Why?

I went through what I knew about the accident. Dad had blacked out and witnesses had seen the car zigzagging across the road for a few hundred metres, at high speed. Then it had careered off the road, straight into some trees.