Chapter 125
Hanna has spent most of the last two days resting.
She is lying in bed with the covers drawn up to her chin and Morris contentedly curled up on her shoulder. This is a compromise; he would prefer to lie on her chest, but it becomes so hard to breathe that she has shuffled him up a little way.
The bedside lamp is on, the rest of the room is in darkness. It’s nice, restful for her eyes.
She has just eaten. She hasn’t had the energy to cook a proper meal since she got back from Storlien, but this afternoon Lydia came by with the leftovers from the Easter Saturday lunch that Hanna should have been at.
The week certainly didn’t turn out the way the sisters had hoped—they hardly saw each other.
But today they were able to talk in peace and quiet, Lydia gave Hanna a big hug and listened without interrupting.
Tomorrow they are going skiing in Ull?dalen; they will sit down on a west-facing slope and have coffee and cake in the afternoon sun.
Enjoy the temperature, which is slightly above freezing, and the feeling of the snow beneath their skis.
Early spring is the best time of the year in ?re.
The experiences from the mountain hotel still linger in the back of her mind, but Hanna hasn’t had any difficulty sleeping. Quite the reverse; she wants to sleep all the time. It is as if she used up all her energy on Saturday.
Daniel has been in touch, and Birgitta Grip has reminded Hanna that she has a counseling session booked for later this week. She has assured both of them that she is doing fine, under the circumstances.
Hanna strokes Morris’s soft fur. There is a tangled knot by one of his hind legs, and she is trying to tease it out with her fingers when her phone lights up with an incoming call.
It’s Henry.
Hanna hesitates, then answers.
“Hello?”
“How are you?”
The warmth in his voice makes her happy. He sounds genuinely concerned.
“I’m really, really tired,” she tells him truthfully.
“What you did for Filip . . . I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you.”
“It’s my job.” She is embarrassed and holds up a dismissive hand, even though he can’t see her. “How’s he doing?” she asks.
“Improving. I’m picking him up from the hospital in ?stersund tomorrow.
He was very dehydrated when he was brought in, and apparently he’d also been drugged—that was how Mogren got him into the car.
Physically he’s okay now, but mentally .
. . that’s another matter. He’s going to need a lot of support—and therapy. ”
Poor, poor Filip, Hanna thinks. No twenty-three-year-old should have to go through a trauma like that.
“I’m going to ask him to move in with me for a while,” Henry goes on. “I think he needs a stable home environment, even if he does have Emily.”
“Sounds like a sensible idea.”
Hanna is glad that Henry is taking care of his godson. If Erik Mogren had had an adult by his side when his mother died, then maybe things would have turned out differently. Broken people can do terrible things in order to ease their own pain.
The events of the past week provide tragic proof.
“Hanna,” Henry says, lowering his voice, “I’m taking Filip to Stockholm, but I’m coming up again in a few weeks. There’s a lot to sort out with the Storlien project now Charlotte is gone.”
Hanna sinks back against the pillow. The only sound in her bedroom is Morris’s contented purring. Tiredness is creeping up on her again, and she closes her eyes for a few seconds.
“I was wondering if we could meet up when I’m back? I’d like to invite you to dinner, to say thank you for everything you did.” Henry falls silent, then laughs as if he is embarrassed by his own words. “Actually . . . that’s just an excuse. I was really thinking of it as more of . . . a date.”
Hanna’s tummy tingles. She props herself up on one elbow, disturbing Morris, and waits for Henry to go on.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he says. “I think you’re . . . fantastic.”
A smile spreads across her face. There is something about Henry; he makes her feel safe.
And desirable.
It’s been many months—no, years—since she experienced that sensation.
“Do you?” she replies, making no attempt to hide the pleasure his words have given her.
“Yes,” he says slowly. “Absolutely. I would love to see you again.”
His voice is warm, his words sincere.
They find their way deep inside Hanna, melt something that has been cold and frozen for far too long.
“If that’s okay?” he adds. “If you want to?”