‘This is real, don’t you understand that?’ he continued, shaking Theodor in an attempt to provoke a reaction. Anything, any response at all. ‘Or do you think this is some bloody video game where you can just start over if you run out of lives? Huh? Answer me!’

Theodor finally met his eyes. Finally, a reaction and some kind of contact.

‘Are you done?’

The question hit him like a slap so hard his cheek was still stinging as he watched Theodor walk towards the stairs with his plate in one hand and his glass of chocolate milk in the other. As long as Sonja was on his side, there was apparently no limit to how badly he could behave.

The soft xylophone jingle sounded familiar, but he was unable to place it until he realized it was his own doorbell. True, they’d been in Helsingborg for almost three years, but people rarely rang the door.

The girl with the blonde plaits out on the porch looked to be over twenty; he had to remind himself she was classmates with Matilda and only thirteen years old. Part of it could be blamed on her colourful 1960s’ dress and the worn leather waistcoat. But the main reason was her calm gaze.

He hadn’t seen her since that fateful night when Matilda was shot. They’d been in the basement, playing with her Ouija board, when the perpetrator had burst in on them and forced them up to the living room with Sonja.

‘Hi, Esmaralda,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘How are you?’

‘Much better now I know Matilda’s all right and going to recover.’

‘I thought you knew that all along. Can’t you just ask your ghosts? Greta, or whatever her name is.’ Fabian chuckled in an attempt to rescue his inappropriate attempt at a joke. But it fell painfully flat. ‘I suppose you’re here to see Matilda,’ he continued, trying to ignore the fact that Esmaralda somehow managed to look down on him, even though she was significantly shorter.

‘Hi Esma! Come in.’

Fabian turned to Matilda, who was standing behind him.

‘Fabian, would you mind moving out of the way so she can get in?’

‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ Fabian backed into the hallway. ‘But just so you know, dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, so she’ll have to go home.’ He wanted to bite his tongue. But it was too late. His frustration at Theodor and the whole situation had seeped out.

‘If we’re done,’ Matilda said as Esmaralda stepped inside. ‘And if we’re not, I’m sure there’s enough for her, too.’