The Atlantis Keystone (31 page)

He walked over and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry I haven’t been over to see you more, Britt-Marie. You are more my mother than my own mother in many ways.”

“Well, you have always meant a lot to me, Erik.”

“Do you miss her a lot?”

Britt-Marie nodded gravely and had a funny look on her face when she replied: “Yes, it’s not the same without her. She wasn’t always easy to be around but it’s certainly strange now she’s gone.” Erik could have sworn that he had seen a glimmer of guilt in her face for a split second. “Anyway, I’d better be going.”

“Do you want to come over this evening to keep me company in the house? My parents are in Stockholm. It would be nice to catch up. It’s been a while.”

“Thank you Erik. That would be very nice. Shall we say about seven?”

“Sounds good – and this time I’m cooking!”

She laughed and started to walk in the direction of her car, waving goodbye as she drove away. Although she had been Erik’s nanny throughout his childhood until he was a teenager, practically raising him single-handedly, he didn’t know much about her; whether she had many friends and where she would normally go on holiday. He felt ashamed about this fact. It meant that he had always treated her as a servant rather than as a member of the family; that he had been too focussed on himself and that he had not even bothered to ask her what she was doing in her spare time. He would not have the solitary evening that he had planned but in a way he was looking forward to spending some time talking to Britt-Marie. It had been too long.

He spent half an hour next to Anna’s grave before embarking on the walk back to the house. To extend it, he walked via the lake where he had swum with Emma all those months ago, in August. Memories of that came flooding back. Although he had been living his life day by day, getting on well on his own over the past couple of months, he realised that it wasn’t actually living – merely getting by. He missed Emma. Somehow she brought meaning back to his life; made it into something other than a never ending client meeting. He would call her as soon as he came back to the house and suggest that she come over. He even ran the last bit. He started dialling her number as soon as he came in the door, sitting down still with his shoes on in the library chair. To his surprise a man answered Emma’s mobile phone. He guessed it was one of her brothers.

“Hello? Is Emma there?”

“No, she’s not here at the moment. Can I take a message?”

“When will she be back?”

“Who is this please?”

“I’m Erik, a friend of Emma’s.”

“Well, Emma’s been in town every day this week. I’ve hardly seen her. Not sure if she’s met a man or what. I certainly hope so; it’s about time. It’s not like her to spend so much time out of the house when she’s down here.” Erik was confused. Her brother clearly didn’t know that there was something between him and Emma. It had only been little over a month since his departure from London. For a split second he imagined Paul had returned and Emma was spending all that time in London with him but he quickly pushed the unlikely thought away.

“Well, when she gets in, please let her know I called.” He agreed and then hung up. Erik started to take his shoes off and leaned back, taking a deep breath as he relaxed. He was deep in thought as he heard a loud bang in the distance. It was too early for Britt-Marie. He had a quick look around, both inside the house and out through the window into the garden but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He was still completely alone. Thinking nothing more of it, he decided to take a bath to try and calm his thoughts. Whilst the bath filled he got himself a glass of wine, grabbed a book from the library and got undressed. The bath was lovely and warm, complete with bubbles and all. He could feel his body relax as it was eclipsed by the water.

He had been in the bath for nearly half an hour, fingers wrinkly, when he heard another loud noise. It sounded almost like a door closing hard in the distance but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be bothered to check, staying in the bath ignoring it, sure that any inspection would reveal nothing again. If the noise was caused by the nearest neighbour cutting wood, it must have been done with an enormous sledge hammer on metal to be heard this clearly from such a distance away. Not very likely. Perhaps his mother had allowed some local farmers to cut down some of their trees or maybe it was a hunter. Anyway, he was sure there was a perfectly logical explanation. Putting the questions aside, he decided to have some lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon reading; finishing the book he had started and allowing himself time to relax for a change. He wanted to keep his mind occupied to avoid thinking about Emma. He managed to keep his thoughts at bay by taking a drive to the local supermarket to buy ingredients for what he was planning to cook for dinner. He then spent an hour doing his best to cook a starter and main course, wanting to impress Britt-Marie, perhaps to start the overdue repayment for all she had done for him over the years. He had timed it better than he had expected and was as good as finished the moment Britt-Marie rang the door-bell. He opened the door and hugged her again as she came in. She wore a flowery dress which he had never seen before. He suspected it was new.

“Thank you for coming! I hope you didn’t have any other plans for this evening?” he asked, suddenly worried that she might have felt obliged to join him for some reason.

“No, certainly not. I don’t have much of a social life nowadays. It would have been another Saturday night spent with my parents watching some less than exciting quiz show on television. I’m glad you suggested it!” They went into the dining room where Erik had set the table.

“This is lovely Erik. And I can smell there’s something very tasty cooking!” She sat down and Erik went to get the starter. Not exactly haute cuisine but Britt-Marie seemed to appreciate it.

“So, what have you been up to then?” he asked, keen to show a bit of interest in her for a change. “Are you going away anywhere on holiday this summer?”

“Not very much, I’m afraid. No holiday plans either, other than doing some gardening and perhaps going over to Stockholm for a weekend in July. What about you? Where’s Emma? I’m sure she will come over later on in the summer?”

“Hm, I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking about asking her to come over pretty soon. We also need to think about Paul’s whereabouts and that damn old tablet which is still missing…”

“That’s strange. Paul has still not showed up then, has he?” She said it with confusion in her voice, looking puzzled. He trusted Britt-Marie and decided to explain the whole sequence of events.

“He was wanted by the police for the Torpa break-in, and…” he paused, unsure whether he could tell her but decided that it could do no harm. “…and he had the tablet in his possession, or at least a picture of one side of it. I can’t for the life of me work out how he managed it though. How on earth could he have obtained the tablet? This would have no doubt incriminated him. Anyway, he left us a message which seemed to lead to Cadiz but we decided to stop our search and go home basically. I can’t say I’m not worried what may have happened to him though…” He didn’t tell her about his dream. It was not worth upsetting her unnecessarily. Britt-Marie didn’t say anything for a long time. Her behaviour was strange. She seemed perplexed, not touching her food and avoiding looking at Erik. Eventually, she looked up, taking one of his hands over the table. He wasn’t sure how to react.

“Erik, there’s something I have to tell you.” Erik was a little uncomfortable and Britt-Marie was acting very strangely. She continued. “I hate to tell you this but I feel that with the unfortunate events and all the questions being asked you ought to know the truth. I cannot keep it to myself any longer. It wouldn’t be fair on either of us.” She paused, looking as if she was resisting tears. Her hand felt cold against his skin. What could have prompted this reaction? Erik had no idea. She started her explanation: “It happened thirty years ago.”

“What did?” he said, voice full of accusation.

He looked into her eyes as she continued: “I knew the woman in the chest. I know who she was.” Britt-Marie said this calmly, still holding Erik’s hand across the table.

“What? You knew her? Who was she?!”

“She was a dancer from Denmark, Copenhagen.” Britt-Marie smiled. “She really was an amazing dancer. Tall, slim and very beautiful. When she was on stage she was almost floating, gliding effortlessly across the floor. Everyone loved her. She was my friend; we had been pen pals from a young age. She was staying here at Torpa when she was over for the dance competition. It wasn’t the first time. She had been over several times before. I thought I was the reason to why she came here; I was working here already then, as your grandmother’s maid. My mother convinced Anne-Lise to enter the competition. I have never been able to dance so my mother saw her as a godsend – someone to teach with success rather than embarrassment.”

“But you weren’t the reason to why she kept staying here?”

“Well, at least not the only reason. It turned out she had met a man here. She was so happy when she told me; said she was in love. She didn’t say who it was but I guessed soon enough. There weren’t that many men on the estate, at least not handsome ones.”

“What happened?”

“Unsurprisingly she got pregnant. Their relationship was still kept under wraps but your grandmother found out. She reacted in a way no one could have predicted. She took her under her wing, cared for her, let her stay on the estate in secret during her pregnancy, as Anne-Lise had not wanted to tell her parents. God knows what she told them. As far as I was aware, abortion was never an option. It was a happy little existence here those few months. She helped me in my duties as a maid. She never went outside the estate, spent most of her spare time in the cold stone house but she was looking forward to having the baby, reading lots of books about it and planning what she would do when she got back to Denmark. She never planned to stay with the baby’s father. I know she loved him but it was all too complicated.”

“Did she have the baby?”

“Yes and everything went well. At that stage, your grandmother had arranged for one of the rooms in the old house to be hers and that’s where she had the baby.” Britt-Marie had a strange dreamy look. “It was a lovely room, albeit cold. She cared for it for a couple of months there, breastfeeding, changing nappies, and reading to it, just like any mother. I helped her, and so did others on the estate. But then she got restless, said she wanted to leave. She said she didn’t want to continue to be a burden and that she had decided to go back to her parents and come clean. I said goodbye to her and that was the last time I saw her – until you showed me her picture a few months ago, linking her with the woman in the chest. I cannot deny I was shocked but I didn’t want to tell you this then.”

“What are you saying? Do you think we were right to make the connection? Do you think she was murdered and buried in that chest?” Erik almost lost his voice as he spoke.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do.” Britt-Marie looked down and put her head in her hands.

“How can you be so sure?” he said aggressively.

She looked up. Her voice was weak, indifferent. “Well, I never heard from her again. I wrote her many letters but she never responded. I always wondered why. We all knew that she had left and gone back to Denmark. That is what she had told us before she left. She was looking forward to seeing her family. The strangest thing was that she had left the baby behind. I always found that most surprising. She loved that little baby. I gathered she just wanted to lead a normal life, to forget about being a single mother and live life but it was so unlike her. So out of character. I never suspected your grandmother though. Not once when she was alive did it cross my mind that she may have had something to do with Anne-Lise’s disappearance. In fact, I admired her for helping Anne-Lise at such a difficult time. But it was after her death when you and Emma showed me the picture of her that the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. It made perfect sense – the woman in the chest was Anne-Lise. The only possible perpetrator I can see here is your grandmother.” Her words were followed by silence.

“But why? Why would she do it?” Erik managed to say.

“Well, she had a motive.” Britt-Marie hesitated.

“What do you mean?”

Almost a minute passed until she spoke again: “She had started to take a liking to the little baby boy. Her only child, her daughter, had been unsuccessful in producing an heir despite several years of trying. Tests had confirmed that she was unable to have children. She had told me on several occasions.” She gazed at Erik.

“What!? That can’t be! Tests like that in those days can’t have been totally reliable.” Erik’s head was spinning. Britt-Marie continued, ignoring him.

“So when this little baby boy came into her hands it was almost too good to be true – there was the future of the Torpa estate.” Britt-Marie paused, lost in her own thoughts while Erik stared at her in disbelief. Through it all he realised that Britt-Marie appeared much older than the last time he had seen her, as if the weight of the secret she had been keeping from him all these years had suddenly taken its toll. “Your parents raised that little boy as their own.” Her eyes were sheepish, as if saying: ‘please understand’.

The truth was devastating to Erik.
He
was that unfortunate little boy. His whole life had been a lie and the woman buried so cruelly in the chest, this Anne-Lise, was in fact his real mother! He wasn’t sure what to say or do. The only words that came out of his mouth were: “Who is my father?”