Maybe it was that the second-hand dishwasher he’d insisted on buying had given up and started leaking. That wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest. She’d thought it was a bad idea all along, especially since they’d just had their floors sanded. Or maybe it was just a— That was as far as she got before she rode up on to the driveway, put down her kickstand and saw the garden.

Someone had skidded around it on motorcycles in what could only be described as a rape of their lawn. In their wake, they’d left open wounds of torn-up tussocks of grass, puddles and tyre tracks that in places were so deep, they’d dug right through the soil to the layer of clay underneath. It hadn’t rained much in the past couple of weeks, which meant they must have used the hose to do as much damage as possible. In other words, they knew what they were doing. Maybe she should be afraid. Maybe she should tell her colleagues, file a report and request police protection. Which was exactly what they wanted.

A frightened police officer.

She could already see the headlines. First pages with pictures of her devastated lawn. Reporters shouting over each other, trying to make out like they were on the side of good when all they wanted was a headline to sell more copies. Never mind if it stoked the hatred even more.

She was bloody well not going to play along, act the victim. Her best option was to counter it with silence and pretend like nothing had happened.

The problem was Hampus. He hadn’t just been afraid. He’d been out of his wits terrified.

She opened the front door and stuck her head in. ‘I’m here now!’

‘Up here,’ she heard a voice say somewhere behind her.

She went back out into the garden and looked around. ‘Where are you?’

‘Up here.’

She looked up and only now noticed him on the roof, sitting with his arms around his pulled-up knees, rocking back and forth as though trying to soothe himself. ‘But what are you doing? Why are you up there?’

‘Come up and see for yourself.’

She was about to argue, out of sheer habit, and ask him to come down instead. But something told her it would be better to oblige him. He looked like the slightest resistance might break him. In all their years together, she’d never seen him as pale and fragile as he was right now.

‘All right, sit tight. I’m coming up.’ She started climbing the ladder. ‘And hey, I’m sure the lawn can be fixed.’ When she reached the roof, she trod gingerly across the roof tiles towards Hampus. ‘You’ve been talking about redoing it anyway, to get rid of the moss.’

Hampus didn’t respond, just rocked back and forth with his arms around his legs and his eyes on the vandalized lawn.