He picked up the photograph and looked at it again, his cufflinks glinting in the bright overhead light.

‘I don’t understand why you’ve brought this up. My father’s “I-did-the-best-I-could” picture. A sop to his own conscience, but no use at all to Beata. I asked him not to show it to my mother; it would only upset her.’

Alex didn’t say anything; he now realised why the photo had been so important to Malcolm, and why Karin hadn’t recognised it.

Fredrika shuffled on the uncomfortable chair.

‘Was Beata also disappointed in your father?’

Bernhard looked up.

‘No.’

‘She thought you and the rest of the family were doing everything you could to help her?’

‘Beata didn’t believe she could be helped – that was the big difference.’

Then, before they could stop him, he tore the photograph in half.

‘Are we done here?’ he said.

Chapter 11

How many times had she tried to talk to him now? Five? Ten? So many times that Max eventually began to cry. Malin gave up, and Dan slipped away, without having said one word about where the knives had gone.

It wasn’t only the knives he was keeping quiet about. Dan had stopped talking. He would sit alone for long periods, staring out of the window.

‘I want Daddy to be like he used to be,’ Max said, crying into Malin’s shoulder as she tried to comfort him.

Malin wondered what ‘like he used to be’ meant to Max. She had forgotten – or suppressed the memory of – how they had lived and behaved when they took freedom for granted, when their lives were the same as everyone else’s.

We argued sometimes.

That was one reason why they’d started talking about Australia, considering the possibility of staying there for a year or so. They needed to change tack, to get away from their daily routines and create new ones. Well, they’d certainly had some help in that quarter. All the old routines were gone, and this was definitely a different tack.

How she missed the life they’d had!

Max felt stiff and tense in her arms.

‘Is Daddy dangerous?’ he whispered.

Malin didn’t answer, she simply stroked his head.

‘Is he, Mummy?’

Malin took a deep breath.

‘I don’t think Daddy’s very well.’

She spoke quietly, so that only Max would hear.

‘Can’t we ask a doctor to come to the house?’

‘Apparently not, sweetheart.’

She had to pull herself together, come up with a plan. But above all she had to find the knives. She couldn’t work out where he’d put them. She’d searched and searched, with Hedvig’s help. Dan had watched them, an amused expression on his face. The knives were gone. Nowhere to be found.