Shaken, he turned his back on the mirror and put up the toilet lid. She had said the nervous and unpredictable state he was in would soon come to an end. It was a process that couldn’t be rushed. At least his memory lapses had stopped, in the sense that there were no new ones. But the things that were gone didn’t come back. Though that might be just as well.

Now he heard Stava’s voice.

He flushed and left the bathroom.

She was standing by the kitchen window.

‘Your wife’s here,’ she said.

The silver Citroën had materialised in the driveway. It was undeniably sitting there. Johanna climbed out of it. She was wearing a blouse and a white summer jacket and leather loafers with white gold buckles, and he thought it was strange that she had dressed up.

‘What day is it?’

‘You’re not going to let her in, are you?’

‘What am I supposed to do, it’s her house …’

Before he knew it, Stava had gone into the hallway and thrown open the front door. Johanna stopped in front of the house. She looked scared and Anders suddenly felt incredibly sorry for her. It washed over him. He didn’t want her to see him, so he moved to the side. He stood pressed against the curtain, breathing loudly through his nose.

Johanna was the one who broke the silence.

‘What do you want with us?’

‘I don’t want anything with you.’

‘Where’s Anders?’

‘He’s at home.’

The reply seemed to confuse Johanna and Stava paused before continuing.

‘I’ve stolen him from you. You’re going to have to accept it.’

‘Can’t you see he’s ill? Yes, he is. He really is. You don’t know him.’

‘Johanna. Sweet little Johanna.’

‘Let go of me!’

When he got outside, Stava had pushed Johanna up against her car. She was rolling her boyishly narrow hips in some kind of taunting dance that continued until Johanna pushed her away.

He stood in the doorway, staring at the two women. Johanna took a few steps to the side and when Stava reached out to grab her hand, she ran over to Anders, hiding behind him, and for a few absurd seconds they stood together, like the married couple they in fact were, studying the odd woman who had wormed her way into their lives. Stava sank into a squat and watched them.

‘My God, you look disgusting together. Pale and afraid.’