She instinctively scrambles out of bed to stand with her back against the wall, eyes wide with terror. Then her legs seem to give up and she slowly sinks to the floor and buries her face in her hands. Karen rushes over to her.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ she says as she squats down next to Aylin, ‘we’re going to fix this.’

Chapter 53

53

Just looking at Aylin hurts; Karen has to steel herself not to look away. One eye is nearly swollen shut and dried blood paints a black line along the crack in her lower lip. And yet, Karen now knows the worst of it was hidden under the thick dressing gown.

They had stayed on the bedroom floor for almost half an hour. Karen had rocked her friend back and forth and gently stroked her hair while silent sobs racked her thin body and tiny gasps slowly turned into regular breathing. Whispering, so as not to wake the children, Karen has managed to make Aylin come with her to the bathroom, helped her take her clothes off and gritted her teeth at the sight it revealed.

She has seen it all before: black and blue backs, shields of last resort against violent husbands and boyfriends. Upper arms with marks from hard fingers, earlobes split by earrings being pulled out, dried blood on the backs of heads smashed against walls. Yes, she has seen it all before: on the estates in Gaarda and Moerbeck, in the neat terraced houses in Sande and Lemdal and in the big fancy villas in Thingwalla and Glitne.

But she has never seen it in her own bathroom.

‘We have to,’ Karen had said, pulling out her phone.

And aided by her acquired ability to shut down her feelings, learnt from working countless crime scenes, Karen had done what needed doing. Quietly, and as quickly as possible, she had taken picture after picture of Aylin’s injuries while the bath filled up. Aylin had stood there in her underwear, passively letting it happen. Then Karen had left, making sure to leave the door open a crack.

And when she heard the soft whimper Aylin let out as she stepped into the warm water, she had leant back against the wall outside the door, both hands pressed firmly over her mouth.

*

Now, they’re in the kitchen. The curtains have been carefully closed and the overhead light turned off. The only light in the room comes from the brass Christmas candelabra. Leo and Sigrid have tactfully withdrawn to the living room; Karen can make out the sound of something that sounds like an American action film through the door. She suspects they’re watching it with unseeing eyes.

Aylin, too, is staring vacantly into space with her hands around a mug of hot chocolate fortified with a stiff shot of whiskey. Karen has poured herself two fingers of the latter in a regular water glass.

‘Do you think you can tell me about it?’