Page 56 of The Sleepwalker
His thoughts turn to Rakia’s chilly, almost hostile attitude earlier, and he wonders whether he just imagined the special bond they had when he was younger, desperate for a mother figure. He lies still, listening to the quiet clicking sounds. He knows they are coming from the cameras and motion sensors, but in his mind’s eye he sees someone dropping pistachio shells in a neat line on the floor. Hugo is just about to drift off to sleep when something jolts him wide awake. At first, he isn’t sure what it was. His heart is beating so hard that he can hear his blood pounding.
It was a scream.
A terrible howl from a woman cut through the walls, almost as though she were standing by the foot of his bed in the darkness.
20
The island of Laxön in the middle of the powerful Dal River is connected to both shores by four narrow bridges. At one point in time, the Svea Engineer Corps was garrisoned there, and a number of the former military buildings now form part of Älvkarleby Youth Hostel.
In order to guarantee a bit of privacy, Pontus Bandling has booked the entire Officers’ Villa for the night, despite the fact that he and Kimberly will likely only use the bathroom and main bedroom.
The warm glow of the fire in the tiled stove flickers over the double bed, and the sweet aroma of burning birch drifts through the air.
The hostel staff have gone home for the evening, leaving Pontus with instructions to drop the key into the letterbox if he checks out before they return tomorrow morning.
He knows he isn’t the only guest; someone else is staying in the next building over. He caught a glimpse of a slim figure in one of the windows when he went out to the car to grab his bag earlier.
Delicate snowflakes had settled like a veil over his windscreen.
Pontus shoves a red Christmas tablecloth and two cushions he knows Kimberly will hate into the empty wardrobe, pourshimself a glass of the whisky he brought with him and sits down in the armchair to wait.
His phone pings with a message from Kimberly. She writes that she will be with him in ten minutes, and he replies to say that he has left the door unlocked.
The fire crackles, and the wind whistles in the chimney.
Above the brass hatch on the stove, the white tiles are sooty.
Pontus lifts his glass to his lips. From the corner of one eye, he notices a movement, and he turns towards the window.
It is almost pitch black outside, but he can make out the frosty white branches of a bush beyond his reflection.
He sips from his glass, taking in the scuffed furniture, the rag rug on the worn floorboards and the strange floral wallpaper.
Through the open doorway, he can see into the bathroom, with its exposed pipework, gold-framed mirror, discoloured grout and folding shower screen.
He hears what sounds like someone opening the cabinets in the kitchen, but assumes it is just the heat causing the old studs in the walls to expand.
Outside, a car approaches and comes to a halt. The doors open, and a low male voice asks if she would like him to wait. Pontus doesn’t catch Kimberly’s reply, but he hears the man say that he can be back within fifteen minutes if she calls.
The flames surge as the front door opens, followed by the confident click of heels on the floorboards.
Kimberly pauses in the bedroom doorway, shakes her white sheepskin coat back from her shoulders and lets it drop to the floor.
Her hair is glossy and voluminous, and she is wearing red lipstick and a short silver sequin dress. Her legs are bare.
‘Did you start the party without me?’ she asks.
‘No, I’ve been waiting for you,’ he replies with a smile. ‘I lit a fire and took—’
‘I can see that,’ she cuts him off, moving forward.
Kimberly takes in the room, turning around and letting her arms swing. ‘What a shithole,’ she mumbles before meeting his eye, a contemptuous look on her face.
‘Always so beautiful,’ he says.
‘Hmm,’ she mutters as she moves over to the window.
‘Do you want anything?’
