Page 53 of The Sleepwalker
Bo squints at Hugo. ‘You’ve got a thing for her, huh?’
‘Bien sûr,’Hugo replies disarmingly.
‘Don’t you?’
‘Yeah.’ He grins.
Bo laughs. ‘She’s still here. It’s the same as ever. New PhD students, new administrators, but otherwise it’s like time stood still .?.?.’
Hugo takes a seat opposite Bo and turns his attention to the questionnaire. He flicks past the information section and the rules of conduct, enters the wi-fi password on his phone and starts answering the questions. He crosses box after box, lying about his drug use and alcohol intake but otherwise sticking to the truth.
‘We the only ones here?’ he asks after a few minutes.
‘Nah, man, the place is packed. There’s a cute girl who screams so loud I nearly shat myself, and a little ghost kid too .?.?. A nerdy guy in a sailor suit.’
19
Three hours later, Hugo has given all the required samples, undergone the usual examinations and eaten dinner in the dining hall.
He is messing about on his phone in the dayroom when Lars Grind comes in and asks him to follow him.
‘I thought we’d put you in the suite,’ Lars says as they walk down the corridor. ‘You’ve stayed there before, haven’t you?’
‘Yeah, once. Who am I shar—’
‘No, no, it’s all yours this time.’
‘Phew, thanks.’ Hugo smiles.
‘But I do need to ask you one small favour. Don’t go into the other bedroom, please. It’s important. Don’t even open the door. It’s to do with an independent research project.’
‘OK.’
The doctor pauses once they reach the suite. ‘I’m heading home now, but if you need anything you can always call me.’
‘Night,’ says Hugo.
He opens the door and steps into the dark hallway, accidentally knocking the lock button on the wall before managing to find the light switch. There is a click as the door locks. Hugo heads straight through to the bedroom, dumps his rucksack on the bed and then pops his head into the lounge area. The pale-grey curtains are drawn, and there is a burgundyblanket folded neatly on the sofa. On the low coffee table, the staff have left a bowl of red apples. A TV has been mounted on one wall, and there is also a bookshelf with soft lighting and glass doors.
A dull anxiety stirs in the pit of Hugo’s stomach. He really doesn’t want to be here. Sleepwalking has already taken up far too much of his life. He wants to move in with Olga, travel to Canada with her and reconnect with his mother.
He knows that if he opens the curtains in his suite, all he will see is a photograph of the Swedish countryside. The artificial light behind it is on a timer, programmed to change in line with the real shifts of night and day.
Hugo goes through to the kitchenette, where there is a small drop-leaf table and two chairs, a toaster and a set of blunt knives.
When he was younger, Hugo found Lars Grind’s interest in him flattering – funny, even – but since the doctor moved to Uppsala, he feels more like an eager relative who is much too keen to stay in touch.
Hugo continues down the hallway, past the bathroom, and stops in front of the closed door to the second bedroom.
He isn’t sure what he is doing.
Lars asked him not to open the door, but he feels like he needs to see what is on the other side.
Someone has carved a downward arrow into the varnished wood.
Hugo reaches out and turns the handle. It isn’t locked.
He opens the door and peers into the darkness on the other side.
