Page 69 of Hidden in Memories
There is no oxygen.
Her hands fly up to her throat, and she struggles to relieve the pressure on her windpipe—but her scrabbling fingers achieve nothing. The man simply tightens his hold.
She can’t get him off her.
The scarf, knitted for her by her mother back home in Maardu, has metamorphosed into a thick rope that is killing her.
The world spins. Her muscles stop obeying her. She paws feebly at her throat as the life leaves her body.
The darkness is filled with little red dots, hovering before her eyes.
I should have gone to the police,she thinks,I should have told them everything and asked for their protection.
She doesn’t want to die like this.
The last thing she sees is his face, very close to hers.
This time his eyes are not burning like they did in the hotel corridor, when she was hiding just inside the door.
They are staring at her with an almost pleading expression.
As if he wants to say sorry.
55
It is dark in the bedroom when Tiina wakes up. She needs the bathroom, and gets up quietly. It is only when she comes back that she realizes Ogge isn’t lying beside her. She checks the time—almost one thirty. What is he doing up at this hour, when he has work tomorrow?
She hears a humming noise outside. The sound of an engine—as if the snow scooter is being driven into the garage. It doesn’t make sense.
She slips out of bed again and pads over to the window. It is north facing, overlooking the freestanding garage. When she cautiously moves the blind aside a fraction, she sees a beam of light. Ogge is sitting on the snow scooter, about to put it away.
Why has he been out in the middle of the night? They went to bed together at about ten o’clock. After dinner he had a cup of coffee while the sports roundup was on. To her relief he’d had only a couple of beers with his meal.
A thud outside tells her that the garage door has closed. Then she hears the front door open. Ogge is heading upstairs, and Tiina hurries back to bed so he won’t know she’s been awake.
In spite of his weight, he moves quietly and smoothly up the stairs. He has no problems hunting grouse, or traveling long distances during a moose hunt. He is an outdoor person who loves the mountains.
She hears him taking off his clothes and slipping into bed. After a few minutes his breathing slows. He has always been able to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow.
Tiina remains lying on her side. She dare not ask why he has been out at this hour. It’s so strange; what on earth can he have been doing?
Suddenly she is wide awake. Could Ogge be having an affair? Did he go off to see someone else behind her back?
The idea is a shock, but in an odd way it seems logical. It would explain why he has been so surly and irritable lately.
He has a mistress.
Tiina squeezes a corner of the sheet between her fingers. Of course. She is stupid, just like Ogge often says when he’s drunk.
Her husband doesn’t want to be with her any longer; he is dreaming of someone else, someone better than her. Younger and prettier no doubt, someone whose body doesn’t bear the signs of childbirth and sweet treats.
She sniffs the air for traces of another woman’s perfume, but all she picks up is snow and the smell of petrol from the scooter.
If Ogge is being unfaithful, that would explain the business with the washing machine. Presumably he didn’t want the other woman’s scent to give him away.
While Tiina was sleeping last Sunday night, he was lying in bed with his new love.
She stares into the darkness as the tears run down her cheeks.
