Chapter 86
The music coming from the discreet speakers at the Villa has moved on to a new playlist. Dorothy Moore has been replaced by the saxophonist John Coltrane. Hanna thinks she recognizes “My One and Only Love.”
Anton has taught her more about jazz than she realized. She must remember to thank him some time.
She and Henry are sitting quietly, but the atmosphere is relaxed and not at all awkward.
Hanna is enjoying the lovely melody in the background as she considers what Henry has told her.
She ought to go home, but while she’s here she wants to take the opportunity to ask about the assault at the mountain hotel in the seventies.
“On a completely different matter—I’d like to hear more about your winter vacations in Storlien. You said that your family and Charlotte’s used to celebrate Christmas and New Year’s together there.”
“We did.” He winks at her. “If it will make you stay a while longer, I’m happy to talk about those days.”
It seems as if Henry is flirting again. Hanna ought to find this irritating, but somehow it feels fine—possibly because he is being quite open about it.
Or because he appears to be genuinely interested in her.
He is nothing like the men she has met in the bar in ?re.
Admittedly he is considerably older—twenty years or so—but he is still handsome and in good shape.
“So who was there?” she asks, ignoring the invitation.
“Let’s see . . . This would be in the late sixties and early seventies. I think I was seven the last time we went there, which means Charlotte was eight.”
Hanna does a quick calculation in her head. If Henry was seven, that must have been the same year the assault took place, according to Leffe. It sounds too good to be a coincidence.
“Do you remember if anything unusual happened that Christmas?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard about an assault that allegedly took place over Christmas 1973. A young waitress was raped.”
Henry looks surprised. “How did you find out about that?”
“So you remember the incident?” she counters.
“No . . . yes. I wasn’t aware of it at the time.”
Hanna doesn’t understand why he is speaking in riddles. Fifty years have passed—it surely can’t be a sensitive issue now.
“So you heard about it later—how come?”
She sounds more challenging than she had intended, but Henry doesn’t take offense. He thinks for a moment, gazing at the candles on the table.
“That summer—so six months after Christmas ’73—I overheard my parents arguing about it when we were staying in the country. It seemed”—he pauses—“as if Charlotte’s father was involved.”
Hanna can’t hide her surprise. Charlotte’s father was mixed up in the tragic story? She vaguely remembers that he died a few years ago.
“In what way was Curt Wretlind involved?”
“Unfortunately I believe he was the one who was hanging out with the poor girl.”
“Hanging out?” Hanna raises her eyebrows at the choice of words. “As I understand it, she was the victim of a serious assault. She was forced to have sex against her will. That’s not what I would call ‘hanging out.’”
Henry holds up his hands. “You’re right, of course. But the expression I heard back then, and you must remember that I was just a child, was exactly that—they were ‘hanging out.’”
Once again he reaches for his glass and takes a sip before continuing.
“My mom was very upset. She and my dad were in their bedroom at our place in the country. They probably thought I was asleep, but their voices were so loud that I couldn’t help hearing through the wall. Mom was saying that she would never celebrate Christmas with Charlotte’s family again.”
“She took the girl’s side?”
Something flickers across Henry’s face, but Hanna finds it difficult to interpret.
“I guess she was seeing it more from Charlotte’s mother’s point of view. She didn’t like the fact that Curt had cheated on his wife during a family vacation. It didn’t look good.”
Hanna is taken aback. Such a cynical response! And yet she recognizes it—she grew up with the same attitude. The importance of constantly keeping up appearances, whatever happens.
Her own mother would presumably have reacted the same way.
“My perception was that my father was trying to persuade my mother not to make a big thing of what had gone on. He wanted to plan our next trip to Storlien, but Mom refused to have anything to do with Curt. Dad had to meet up with Curt on his own, and after that we never holidayed together again. It wasn’t until years later that Charlotte and I renewed our friendship, because we went to the same high school. ”
“Do you remember anything else?”
Henry twirls his glass between his fingers, and his expression grows sad.
“From what my mom said, it sounded as if the poor girl got pregnant.”
“She had a baby?”
“I think so, but I don’t know for sure.”
Hanna gazes out of the huge window, but the darkness is too dense to see anything. Even ?reskutan is not visible against the sky. There is no full moon shining tonight.
It’s hardly surprising that Leffe said the girl’s life was ruined. As if the rape wasn’t bad enough, she ended up pregnant as well.
At least Hanna didn’t have to go through that.
It must have been a terrible situation.