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Authors: Sara B. Elfgren & Mats Strandberg

Fire (60 page)

BOOK: Fire
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Rebecka would be proud of them now, she thinks.

‘You should stay away from school tomorrow. I’ve got a strong feeling that Erik and Robin are planning something,’ Gustaf says.

‘We can’t just hide at home. Besides, what can they do to us at school?’

‘Do you think I’m exaggerating?’

‘No, I don’t,’ she says. ‘Honestly, I don’t.’

‘Promise you’ll keep it in mind, then.’

Minoo nods.

‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ Gustaf asks.

She opens the outer pocket on her rucksack and pulls out the necklace. She senses the remnants of the strong magic that has been channelled into the chain and pendant. Holding it, her fingers tingle slightly.

‘Look at this. Have you seen anything like it before?’ she asks.

Gustaf glances at the necklace, gets up and goes to his desk.

He turns back to Minoo holding a black box. He hands it to her.

‘Open it,’ he says.

She lifts the lid gingerly. There, on a bed of black mock velvet, lies a chain and pendant identical to Diana’s.

‘I was given it yesterday,’ Gustaf says. ‘After they had agreed to have me back as a member. Rickard thinks I might be allowed into the innermost circle.’

Minoo fingers the metal symbol. She cannot sense any magic radiating from it, but perhaps the amulet has to be activated first.

She shuts the box.

‘It’s meant to give admission to the spring party in the school tomorrow,’ Gustaf says.

‘Have all the members of PE been given these?’

‘Only the pupils in senior school. And the teachers. PE reps handed out the chains last week. But Rickard has had one since last summer.’

Minoo stiffens.

‘Rickard?’

‘Yes, he has one. I’ve seen it every time we go for football practice.’

Rickard, who was the first at school to talk about PE. Rickard, who was never outstanding in any way, until this year when he suddenly emerged as a leader. He must be under their control, just like Diana.

‘Is Rickard the only one who’s had one of these necklaces for a while?’ Minoo asks.

‘I haven’t seen anyone else.’

‘But now they’ve been handed out to everyone? Everyone who’s going to the spring party tomorrow?’

‘That’s right. Why are you so fascinated by the necklaces?’

If only she could tell him.

‘What’s so special about this party anyway?’ she asks instead.

‘It’s just a party,’ Gustaf says. ‘Buffet foods, dancing. The usual, but with some extras. They’re going to choose the Young PE Member of the Year. And celebrate the spring equinox. You know, like “we are moving into brighter days”.’

It sounds utterly innocent and she can’t tell him why it’s so very dangerous. Actually, she doesn’t quite know why anyway.

‘Please don’t go,’ she says.

‘Got to. If I don’t, they’ll never accept me into the inner circle. Where all the real inside info is.’

‘They’re more dangerous than you think …’

She falls silent. Why can’t she say what it is most important for Gustaf to hear about?

‘That’s exactly why I can’t stay on the sidelines. Like you said, you can’t keep hiding.’

Minoo accepts that she’ll never make him change his mind.

‘I know this sounds crazy, but at least promise me that you won’t wear the necklace,’ she says.

He looks uncertainly at her.

‘If it really matters so much to you … I promise.’

Neither of them speaks. It strikes Minoo that they’re sitting very close together on the bed. She feels the warmth from his body. Their hands resting on the bedspread are so close they almost touch.

And suddenly, without warning, he takes her hand.

A familiar sensation is spreading inside her. Her wrists tingle and her arms go weak. Her cheeks are hot. She doesn’t dare look at Gustaf. Her hand must feel all limp, like a sticky, dead jellyfish. But he still holds it for a long while. She wants this to end. She wants it never to end.

She pulls her hand back. Tries to work out what she is feeling. Words are far too risky. She doesn’t even want to utter them in her mind.

‘I’ve got to go home now,’ she says and gets up.

‘Sorry if I—’ Gustaf begins.

‘Oh, no,’ she interrupts, with the blood hammering in her ears. ‘I mean, it wasn’t because of that … it’s just that I … I have to go now.’

66

Ida opens her eyes. A sense of dread wakes her instantly. She sits up in bed and checks the time. Just about half past five.

They took Wille to Västerås, just in time for him to catch the last train to Stockholm. Ida didn’t get back home until the middle of the night. The house was dark and silent. No one was waiting up for her. No one had even bothered to send a text asking where she was.

She gets up and showers for a long time, in an attempt to wash away her anguish. And then she inspects her body, searching for signs of change, traces of Anna-Karin. She can’t find any.

Back in her room she opens her wardrobe. And stands there, staring at the row of clothes.

All these everyday choices used to be a matter of course but now they don’t seem at all straightforward. Presumably because
nothing
in her life is straightforward any more.

What to wear to school when you know everybody hates you? If she was Anna-Karin, she’d hide inside a shapeless sack, made herself unnoticeable. If she was Linnéa, she’d dress up in some insane piece of kit that would force everyone to look at her.

But as for
Ida
, what would she choose?

It is as if she’s inside an alien body once more. As if she’s not the real Ida, but still has to keep up the pretence.
She slides her finger across the pile of neatly folded tops, across the dresses on their hangers. Her stock of ‘Ida’ disguises.

She tries on clothes for half an hour before making up her mind: a V-necked, pale blue sweater and jeans. She takes care with her make-up and scrutinises her face in the mirror. The silver heart glints in the light from the ceiling lamp. Its surface is scratched and worn. Her mum gave it to her when she started primary school, and since then she has worn it almost daily. It has grown into a part of her, so much so that she has hardly looked at it properly for years.

Ida touches the heart. She has to speak to Mum. Try to make her understand.

The whole family is seated at the breakfast table. It takes a moment before Ida spots what’s wrong. Four people at the table, four occupied chairs. Ida’s usual chair stands by a wall.

Dread is invading her again. She places the chair at the short end of the table. No one has laid a place for her. She gets herself a mug and a plate from the cupboard.

‘Good morning,’ she says.

No response. No one even looks at her. It is as if she’s invisible. For one awful moment, Ida thinks that she has body-swapped with Vanessa.

But then she sees Rasmus sneak a glance at her and try to hide a grin, before he quickly turns away again.

‘Aren’t you looking forward to the Spring Revel at the centre?’ Dad says to Rasmus and Lotta.

They nod enthusiastically.

‘I
love
the spring equinox,’ Lotta says. ‘Afterwards, the days are longer than the nights.’

‘That’s right,’ Dad says and ruffles her hair. ‘What better reason for celebrating, eh?’

‘I’m sorry I came back so late last night,’ Ida says. ‘I simply had to—’

‘I dropped in at the centre yesterday and they’ve prepared everything so nicely for tonight,’ Mum interrupts without looking at her.

‘Can you hand me the butter?’ Lotta says.


Please
, can you pass me the butter,’ Mum corrects her before giving it to her.

‘What’s the idea?’ Ida says. ‘Why are you ignoring me?’

No one answers. Lotta smears lots of butter on her crispbread. And then wipes off what’s left on the knife with her finger and pops it into her mouth.

‘Christ, you’re such a pig,’ Ida says.

‘You’re not to do that,’ Mum says calmly and takes the knife away from Lotta.

Crunching noises from Dad’s mouth as he chews his crispbread sandwich. No one speaks. But Rasmus looks fit to burst with laughter.

‘Having fun, or what?’ Ida says.

He stares at the tabletop and squashes a breadcrumb under his finger.

‘By the way, I met Erik at the centre,’ Mum says, looking at Dad. ‘He was looking forward to tonight, too. To the party at the school. Apparently they’re going to choose the Young PE Member of the Year. I think he hopes that he’ll be the one. Not that he said as much out loud, of course.’

She and Dad smile at each other, a complicit smile.

‘Could anyone tell me what I’ve done? Or is that too much to ask?’ Ida says.

She can’t bear losing them as well. Without them, she has nobody standing by her, nobody at all.

No one answers her. Lotta sighs and chews slowly with her mouth partly open.

‘Look, it’s so obvious that you think I’ve done something wrong,’ Ida continues and her voice cracks so that she has to swallow several times before she can carry on. ‘It would only be fair if you at least told me what I’m being punished for.’

‘You know that well enough, Ida.’

Mum doesn’t look at her.

‘No, I truly don’t,’ Ida says, barely managing to keep her voice steady.

‘We have been informed that you have started to go about with criminals,’ Mum says, coolly and factually. ‘You refuse to talk to me or your father. Then you disappear for practically the entire weekend and take my car without asking permission. You come home in the middle of the night. Clearly, you can’t be bothered with us. That’s why we have decided not to bother with you.’

Ida feels torn apart inside. As if someone has stuck a knife into her and started to slit her open while still alive.

‘What can I do?’ she says, unable to hold back her tears. They drip on to her lap. ‘Say I’m sorry? Please forgive me. I truly mean it. Forgive me. I … haven’t been myself.’

‘No, we noticed,’ Dad says.

‘But what do you want me to do? Start going out with Erik again, for your sake? That’s so twisted!’

‘You’re taking part in a campaign of filthy gossip directed against the son of our best friends …’ Mum begins.

‘But what’s being said is true!’ Ida exclaims. ‘All true! He did do it!’

She can’t stop herself. Everyone is looking straight at her now. Mum, Dad, Rasmus, Lotta.

‘You’re deliberately closing your eyes to what Erik is like,’ Ida continues. ‘He’s horrible! All his life, he’s been bullying people. Do you know what he did to Elias Malmgren when we were all, like, twelve years old?’

‘All boys fight now and then,’ Mum says. ‘It’s human nature.’

‘He ripped off Elias’s earring so blood was spurting everywhere and then he shouted that people mustn’t touch or they might get Aids from the queer—’

‘That’s enough,’ Dad says coldly and nods in the direction of Lotta and Rasmus.

‘—and I was with him!’ Ida continues without a break. ‘I laughed, too. And was just as repulsive as Erik. And so are you, sometimes. You insist that Erik’s parents are your best friends, but you always say awful things about them behind their backs—’

‘That’s enough, Ida!’ Mum shouts.

Ida, with tears running down her cheeks, meets Mum’s eyes. Frightened, Rasmus and Lotta stare in turn at both of them.

‘Listen, Ida,’ Dad says. ‘We’re very worried about you. But you cannot be part of this family unless you pull yourself together. We require a
meaningful
apology. And, above all, a complete change in your behaviour.’

Ida is crying so much she finds it hard to speak at all. She turns to Mum.

‘Mum … please. Mummy … please …’

A hint of sadness in Mum’s eyes. But she shakes her head.

Ida gets up from the table. Her whole body is trembling. She can barely control the shakes as she walks into the hall, puts her jacket on, picks up her schoolbag.

If only Mum would call her name. Ask her to come back. If only Dad would hurry after her to say that the punishment has gone too far.

Then, Ida would have been prepared to forget all this. It would be over and done with. Just an unpleasant memory that would never have to be mentioned again.

But no one comes. No one calls her name.

Ida stands with her hand on the door handle and waits for just a little longer.

The only sound is the clatter of plates as someone starts clearing the table.

She opens the door and steps outside.

Vanessa walks slowly across the schoolyard. Two neon-bright yellow posters have been stuck to the main entrance doors.

‘PE!’ one of them announces. ‘SPRING PARTY!’ shouts the other one.

She checks the screen on her mobile. No reception all morning.

She wonders if Wille has tried to reach her.

He phoned Elin from the car while they drove to Västerås last night. He had told her that his uncle had fallen ill and that he was going to Stockholm to be with him, but didn’t know for how long.

And Vanessa couldn’t help noticing how plausible he sounded. How easily he told fibs. And how good he was at lying.

‘Thank you,’ he said later, while they were waiting on the platform. ‘Not that I can get my head around what’s happened. But I do believe you saved my life.’

He is safe now.

But Jonte is dead. Helena and Krister murdered him.

Vanessa walks up the steps and into the entrance lobby, which is decorated with yellow bunting and large paper suns.

A crowd has gathered in front of the noticeboard. Vanessa hears a babble of voices. And, often, Linnéa’s name. She goes closer.

The yellow party posters on the noticeboard have been covered in graffiti. Someone has scribbled on one of them with a
broad, black marker ‘PE = MURDERERS’. Photos of Erik and Robin have been glued on the poster. Their eyes filled in with black and their smiling faces scored with something sharp.

‘She’s got to be a psychopath,’ a voice says and Vanessa doesn’t need to think for a second about who the ‘she’ is. The person who everyone believes has done all this.

‘I’ve heard that they’re going to have her locked up,’ another voice says.

‘About fucking time.’

Approving mumbles all round.

BOOK: Fire
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