The reproach contained in the picture was not lost on her. When she dropped the little girl off earlier that day, her mother had looked at her like she was drunk. She was worried but knew she was unable to stop her. Now she was trying to call her home by reminding her who would suffer the most if something happened to her. She had told them nothing about the state Håkan was in; just said he was ill.

Diana looked at the picture for a long time and all of a sudden, she started to sob. Not because the picture triggered an avalanche of tender feelings, but because it didn’t. She sat with her hand over her mouth, feeling nothing. Except the starch from the potatoes on her fingers.

*

It was almost midnight. She stepped out onto the front porch and looked at the pine trees standing motionless against a sky that was filling with clouds.

She hadn’t brought a toothbrush, so she borrowed Susso’s. She brushed with a pained look on her face and when she did the teeth on the left, she closed her eyes. Then she had a mental image of herself standing there, eyes squeezed shut, and her battered face was so detailed and clear she opened her eyes in surprise and stared at herself in the mirror. She had already seen the trickle of toothpaste running down her chin. She spat and put her mouth to the tap, rinsed her mouth out and spat again. After straightening up, she thought she saw a glimpse of something in the mirror. A shadow slinking about on the hat rack behind her. She stood stock-still with her eyes fixed on the mirror. Slowly reached out and turned off the tap.

She waited for a few seconds before putting her toothbrush down on the edge of the sink. Then she wiped her mouth and left the bathroom. She didn’t turn around until she reached the stairs, but then she turned quickly. The hat rack. The clothes hanging underneath it. The shoes.

She pulled the chequered cotton curtains closed and crawled into the bed. The room was very bright; how Susso could stand it was beyond her. But maybe she tolerated the light for the same reason she didn’t care what her bedroom looked like. She contemplated draping the bedspread over the window, but was too tired to get up.

She pushed her phone in under the mattress, plumped the pillow up under her cheek and felt the tranquil ticking of her pulse from inside the stuffing as she studied the texture of the wallpaper. What did Susso think about, lying here at night? Either a lot or very little. Probably very little. The idea of her lying there staring at the wall with an empty mind was so scary Diana immediately tried to turn her thoughts to something else.