‘Can I talk to Susso.’

‘She’s still at the hotel.’

‘Okay, I’ll call her there.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s nothing. I just wanted a word.’

She dialled the number of the hotel and was put through. The receiver was picked up but no one spoke, there was just a rushing sound.

‘Hello? Susso?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I didn’t know who it was.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Nothing. Watching TV.’

‘Kiruna’s acting really weird. She’s going on and on about going to the cabin. I can’t get through to her, it’s really scary and I don’t know what to do.’

‘I’m on my way.’

After she hung up, she walked over to the door. Nothing but silence on the other side. Not a peep, and that made her anxious. She unlocked the door and opened it. For one brief, horrifying moment, she thought the little girl was gone. Then she realised she had crawled in behind the easel and box of play clothes, from which the sparkling wings of her elf costume were jutting out.

‘Mummy,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

She wanted to tell her there was nothing wrong with her, but couldn’t get so much as a word out; instead she closed the door and went down to the kitchen.

She cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and started it. Then she filled the sink with hot water and washing-up liquid. After doing all the dishes and building a mountain of mugs and saucepans and plates on the drying rack, she poured herself a glass of red wine and chugged it and then she had another.

‘You bastards,’ she said. ‘You bastards.’

Lennart lay in bed with both shoes and clothes on…

Lennart lay in bed with both shoes and clothes on, staring up at the hotel room ceiling. The curtains, which ran all the way from the ceiling to the floor, were closed. There was a clock on the TV, but he couldn’t see what the red digits said. He could hear where the little boy was at all times because he breathed loudly through his mouth as he crawled across the carpet like a snuffling little pig. From time to time, he stood up, but never for long. It might have been a game Lennart didn’t understand.

He heaved himself off the bed, stepped over the bananas he’d placed on the floor and went into the bathroom. The ceiling light turned on automatically. It was a big, fully tiled bathroom with underfloor heating. The counter with the sink in it was so long a grown man could stretch out on it. There were individually wrapped soaps and tiny bottles of shampoo and other muck. Even toothbrushes. But no razors.