She was still in her bed covered by the same blanket. Food stood untouched on the kitchen table. Flies had landed on the fruitcream pudding. A couple of cheese sandwiches sweated on a side plate. The place smelled of sadness. I sensed it the moment I stepped inside.

I went to sit by her. Stroked her back. Asked if she was awake. She shook her head and said that she wanted to die. I pulled the blanket up and tucked in her miserable arms. They had been dangling over the edge of the bed like chilly lianas. But her forehead was hot and flushed. I fetched a thermometer from the bathroom cabinet and put it in her armpit. Ten minutes later it had hit forty and more. I phoned caronika.

Ingelahansson is running a fever I said.

So give her a few paracetamol. There are suppositories. You know what I mean. Up her bottom. She is mourning her child I said. Says she wants to die.

That’s not something you can decide just like that she replied and ended the call.

When the evening shift had turned up I briefed them and drove home. It was drizzling. In front of the car the mist was thick. I had to do an emergency stop to avoid driving into the bundle walking along the verge. I opened the window. 92

What are you doing out in this fog I asked. Don’t you remember that I like bad weather.

I do. But all the same I could’ve hit you. Do you want a lift.

He wiped off the rain dripping down his face. Put his hand through the window to stroke my face and made it wet.

You get back home he said. You look tired. Or maybe you would like a cup of tea. I can warm some water.

We sat in john’s warmyellow kitchen drinking tea. I told him about katarina and katarina’s mum. He had already heard about it.

I suddenly remembered the painting in her sitting room. After working over the sentence in my mind I finally found a way to ask.

She bought it from me he said. She happened to see it when she brought me a parcel. Katarina worked for the post office in case you didn’t know. She had a car and delivered parcels.

You told me that you had never shown the paintings to anyone. That’s the reason I asked.

Yes that’s true. Apart from that one.

He got up to put logs on the fire. The rain was flowing down the windowpanes. I put the teacup by the sink. We stood together at the sink aching. I couldn’t stop myself. Caressed the burndamaged skin and let my hand move up into his hair. He closed his eyes. I put my arms around his torso and pulled him close. He smelled of man and life and soil and turpentine.