Page 11 of Hidden in Memories
When Tiina Nilsson goes down to the basement on Monday morning, the door of the laundry room is ajar. She pushes it open with her foot and places the basket of dirty laundry on the worn stone floor. She has to be at the school in Duved in an hour, and wants to set the machine going before she leaves.
She rubs her right shoulder with her left hand. The pain comes and goes, but she can’t seem to get rid of it completely. She has worked as a teaching assistant in the elementary school for many years, and shouldn’t be lifting the smaller children. However, she loves her job, the kids, and her colleagues.
She flicks the switch, and the cold fluorescent light reveals the piles on the counter. Every time Tiina sees the chaos down here, she promises herself that she will fix it at the weekend, but then something else gets in the way. It’s not as if Ogge would think of doing it. They have lived together for fifteen years, since Tiina was thirty-five and her girls, Anna and Andrea, were five and eight, but he has never done much around the house.
The only thing he cares about is Zelda, their dog—he loves her more than anything.
Tiina reaches for the basket to start loading the machine; then she realizes that there are already clothes in the drum. That’s weird—she doesn’t remember putting on a wash yesterday evening.
As she begins to pull out the contents, she sees that this is Ogge’s stuff. He has shoved everything in together—pants, T-shirt, underwear, even though they are different colors and should be separated. As a result his white tee now has a grayish tinge. One of his sport socks is missing, but the one that remains is no longer white either.
Tiina stands there holding his damp vest. Ogge must have put a wash on overnight, even though he got home so late. She was already asleep; she was too tired to sit up and wait for him.
It’s very odd—Ogge doesn’t usually deal with his own laundry. Why would he start now?
It doesn’t matter. She hasn’t got time to stand here wondering. Not if she’s going to have breakfast before she leaves. Quickly she hangs his clothes in the drying cupboard and gets the next load underway.
Then she switches off the light and hurries back up the stairs.
9
Something warm and heavy is pushing Hanna down into the mattress when the alarm clock wakes her. She is lying on her stomach with one leg drawn up beneath her, and it feels as if someone has placed a great big, warm sack of cement on the small of her back.
Her muscles are aching because of the uncomfortable position, and she is covered in sweat.
She tries to switch off the alarm while struggling to free herself from the unfamiliar weight. The ringing stops, and she hears a loud and reproachful meow as she rolls over and tips Morris onto the bed. She peers out from beneath the covers to find that the cat is now standing so close that his nose is almost touching her face. As soon as they make eye contact, he begins to purr loudly. He turns around and marches back and forth, clearly delighted that she is finally awake.
Slowly Hanna drags herself out of bed and heads for the kitchen, where she gives Morris a tin of liver pâté and refills his water bowl. She fixes up a provisional litter tray with shredded newspaper so that he will be okay while she is at work.
This afternoon she must find out who owns him. He can’t live here. This is not the right home for a cat, not by a long way.
She makes herself a sandwich and a cup of tea and sits down at the kitchen table. This is a short working week because of the Easterholiday, which is why she has allowed herself a bit of a lie-in. She has no meetings today, and intends to devote herself to a pile of ongoing cases. From Thursday she will be free for five days so that she can spend time with Lydia and her family—her husband, Richard; thirteen-year-old Fabian; and eleven-year-old Linnéa. Hanna adores her nephew and niece, and is looking forward to celebrating Easter Saturday with them.
Morris has finished eating, and is rubbing contentedly around Hanna’s legs. Suddenly she has what feels like fifteen pounds of cat on her lap. He is purring with such joy that she doesn’t have the heart to put him down on the floor, even though she is covered in cat hairs.
She sits there for almost ten minutes before she finally decides it’s time to get ready for work.
The coffee machine in the small kitchen by the door has just finished gurgling when Hanna sees Daniel arrive at the station a little while later.
As usual her heart flips when he is standing right there in front of her. Today he is wearing a moss-green sweater that brings out the color in his hazel eyes. The sun shining in through the window sprinkles specks of gold in his dark-brown hair.
“Coffee?” she says, handing him the cup to cover her confusion.
“Excellent service.” Daniel gives her a warm smile as he takes it. “But wasn’t this meant for you?”
“I can easily make another.”
They chat about this and that as the machine grinds fresh beans. They are both planning to work from Åre over the next few days. It’s nice not to face the journey to and from Östersund; the round trip takes a good two and a half hours.
“What does your week look like?” Daniel asks as the machine finishes its task. “Have you got a lot to do before the long weekend?”
Hanna takes a sip of her coffee. “Not too bad. Today I’m going to try to check out some witness statements from that narcotics arrest in Staa back in January, if you remember?”
Daniel nods as they set off toward their offices, which are on the right-hand side of the corridor three doors apart.
“How about lunch at Broken later?” Daniel suggests. “I didn’t bring anything today.”
Hanna usually loves eating at the popular restaurant, but Daniel must have forgotten how busy everywhere gets during the Easter break.
