A person leading a bicycle was walking toward them through the park; she turned her head away. But it was too late. The ticking sound stopped and then the bell tinkled. It was one of Håkan’s colleagues. He wore a chequered shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Backpack and sturdy helmet. She could almost hear the processor in his brain rattling to life when he saw her. She was tempted to lie. Say she’d had a bad fall. Or crashed her car. So that the story about her battered face circulating among their co-workers at the hospital would be a story of everyday bad luck, possibly laced with unspoken suspicions aimed at Håkan. But she had already told Kiruna the truth. That she had been beaten up by some men who were angry at Susso. If she fibbed now, there was a significant risk the little girl might get involved and correct her.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I got beaten up. By some idiots.’

‘At work?’

She shook her head.

‘I have a childhood friend who’s fallen in with the wrong crowd. It happened when I tried to help her.’

‘Dramatic.’

‘Right?’

‘How’s Håkan?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He wasn’t at work today.’

‘He wasn’t?’

His unbuckled chinstrap swung back and forth when he shook his head.

‘I don’t know, maybe he’s not feeling well; I haven’t been home.’

‘He didn’t call in sick. And he’s not answering his phone. So things were a bit hectic in the clinic, put it that way.’

‘That’s odd.’

‘Mm.’

‘He must have thought he had the day off. Wasn’t he on call last weekend?’

He shook his head.

‘Very odd.’

*

Worry unfurled its tentacles inside her; they were cold and refused to retract. She clutched her phone and the little girl had to run to keep up.

‘Why are you walking so quickly?’

‘Hurry up!’

She had been home all morning, so she knew he hadn’t been there. And she clearly remembered him asking if she wanted him to take off work, because it was as close as he had come to showing concern for her. It followed, then, that he had definitely been aware that he didn’t have the day off. Could something have happened to him on his way to work? It was a ten-minute walk. Hardly likely. On the other hand, she had to admit the laws of probability seemed to be suspended since a few days back. It was as though all of existence had been decalibrated by an earthquake. She had left one Kiruna and returned to another. To the strange Kiruna of the Myréns. Kinura. Krinua.