Читать книгу Shadows of Sören - Nicola Stöhr - Страница 13

Wow, little Miss Einstein next door had feelings, how about that! Tilda had watched an obviously miffed Clarice march over to the big house and come out a little while later, visibly upset. After that she had disappeared in to her house, banging the door so loudly that Tilda could hear it across the driveway.

Not that Tilda had anything against Clarice. She was a good neighbour, no trouble at all. She kept to herself most of the time and seemed a bit of a loner but that was much better than having a nosey busybody next door. And Tilda understood about keeping to yourself. She had had more than her fair share of gossip and nasty rumours trailing her all her life. Oscar, Tilda´s four year old son, had taken to Clarice immediately, even though Clarice had done her best to ignore him. But children were like that, weren´t they? You tried to win their favour and they brushed you off. You ignored them and they want you to like them. So Oscar had done his best to get Clarice to notice him and she hadn´t been able to ignore him for long. He ran over there all the time now but Clarice didn´t seem to mind and even kept him busy with painting materials, games and interesting little technical gadgets which Tilda had never seen before. Maybe Clarice made them herself. Sometimes they just sat and talked but when questioned later by Tilda about the content of those conversations, Oscar could never say exactly what it was they had talked about. As long as she was nice to him, it didn´t matter, did it? Obviously she and Clarice would never be friends, would they? Clarice being so smart and everything. Wasn´t she a professor or something? And Tilda just cleaned houses.

She had left school at the earliest opportunity, to get away from home and from him, her father. Then she had met Henric and he had seemed so nice and gentle, but it hadn´t lasted long. Unfortunately she had already married him and become pregnant before she realized she had married a monster. A man just like her father.

But she had not stayed with him and made her whole life and her child´s life a living nightmare. She had left him as soon as possible. He had followed her wherever she went, constantly threatening to hurt her and Oscar if she didn´t come back to him. But she hadn´t and one night he had broken into the little house she was renting at that time in Färjestaden and beaten the living daylights out of her. A neigbour had called the police and he had been taken away. That had been a year ago. He had been sentenced to three years and then he would be out. He was undergoing therapy in prison and Tilda hoped it would help. When she had recovered from her injuries, Sören Hellström had offered her the cleaning job and this house. He was such a nice man and so polite. Of course he was quite a bit older than her, more than ten years older. She didn´t find Sören quite as staggering as most of the other women she knew in the village. Some of them almost swooned when they talked about him. For her he was too old and she had known him too long.

Clarice didn´t seem to be overly impressed by him either or she just didn´t show it. Tilda knew Sören had offered her the job and the house as a show of loyalty towards her and her family. Rettinge and Ljudbyholm had been the biggest gårds on southern Öland and Per Nielson and Fredrik Hellström had been good friends. She wondered why Sören was still single. Surely he met loads of women through his work or at one of those galas and charity balls he was constantly invited to. Not that she was privy to Sören Hellström´s social life but she often saw him emerge from the house in the evening dressed in black tie and men only wore that when they were going somewhere posh and really fancy, right?

Anyway, she didn´t really care, she had other worries. One of them was outside right now, staggering towards her house. It was the bane of her life, her father. She had told him again and again that she didn´t want to talk or even see him but as usual he didn´t care what other people wanted. Why did he come here all the time, when he knew everyone hated him. But then people hated him everywhere, so it didn´t make any difference to him.

He had ruined her childhood and most of her youth. She remembered an incident when she had come home late one day and he had gripped her by the neck, almost suffocating her and banged her head against the wall again and again. This was only one of many violent scenes inscribed on her mind. You didn´t just forgive and forget something like that because your father was now old and sick.

In fact she wished he would just stay in his hut and finally drink himself to death. The worst part about the abuse hadn´t actually been the abuse itself, it had been the loss of love and respect. The abuse really became part of everyday life. You got into a sort of perverse routine. If you came home late you got your head banged against the wall, if you dropped a glass or spilled something you got beat with a leather belt and so on. But the lack of love was something you never got used to.

Her mother had done her best but had been too frightened and wrapped up in her own misery to be a comfort. And now her mother was living in Färjestaden with Eric, her little brother. Their relationship was strained of course. Tilda had never really forgiven her for not leaving her father much earlier and saving her and her sister a lot of pain and distress. But they met now and again and her mother was very attached to Oscar and Oscar to her. She was a good grandmother, even if she had been a failure as a mother.

There was a knock on the door. He knew she wouldn´t open up, so why did he bother to knock. Tilda didn´t answer.

“I know you´re in there, let me in, I want to see my grandson.”

“Go away”, she called fiercely.

“Where is my grandson, I want to see my grandson, I´m a dying man. A man has a right to see his grandson.”

Thank God Oscar was at the kindergarten. He banged on the door again.

“I told you to stay away from him. And you´re not dying,

I wish you were. And you have no right to anything, you drunken old bastard.”

“I will see my grandson. I will stay here and wait until you go and pick him up. You do have to pick him up, don´t you? I´ll stay here and wait for him.”

“Go away. Leave us alone or I´ll call the police.”

He gave a nasty little laugh. “Yes, call the police. What can they do, I´m just a harmless old man who wants to see his grandson. No harm in that, no harm at all. Maybe I´ll go to the dagis myself and wait for him there. They let them out to play, don´t they? I sometimes talk to him over the fence. Maybe he and I will take a little walk together.”

“I´ll kill you if you go anywhere near him, do you hear me, I´ll kill you.”

“Why? I won´t harm him. I wouldn´t do that. I just want to be with him a little.”

“Well you can´t. I don´t want you near him.”

“Well, we´ll see about that, won´t we? I have rights, too, I´m his grandfather. I want to see him and I will see him.”

Why oh why didn´t Sören do something to keep him away from here? Tilda thought as she had so many times before. This was his land after all; surely there must be something he could do? She would just have to pick Oscar up and take him to her mother´s in Färjestaden, because there was no way she was bringing him home with her father waiting on their front step.

She heard someone else coming towards her house outside. She peeped through her curtains. It was Magnus.

Magnus approached Per and laid a hand on his arm. “Per, why don´t you leave the poor girl alone, haven´t you done enough to her already?”

“I just want to see my grandson, that´s all.”

“He´s not here, Per. He´s at the dagis and won´t be home for hours. Look, I´ve got a nice bottle of Scotch Whisky in my office. How about we both go over there and have a sip to warm us up a bit. It´s a bit chilly this morning, don´t you think?”

Scotch whisky was not an offer Per Nielson got very often these days, except at his monthly meetings with Sören Hellström and even then it wasn´t exactly handed out voluntarily. Per willingly followed Magnus to his office. Tilda gave a sigh of relief. Magnus was the only one who could still handle the old man, but even his grip on him was waining. Please God, when would he die?

Magnus led Per Nielson to his office, which was located in a rectangular side building, just to the right side of the barn and the ostrich enclosure. He handed Per a glass of single malt. The whisky had been a birthday present from Sören but Magnus wasn´t really a great fan of Scotch whisky, or any whisky really. He preferred beer and the occasional glass of wine.

Magnus sat across from Per, “Per, why don´t you leave Tilda alone? She´s a good, hardworking girl and a single mother. You should be proud of her, not making her life more difficult.”

“I just want to see my grandson. I don´t want to make her life difficult. All she has to do is let me see him. But no, that´s too much to ask.”

“Per, are you actually surprised about that? She´s afraid of you and afraid you´ll hurt her son. After how you used to treat her and her sister and their mother, it´s no wonder is it?”

Per helped himself to another glass of single malt, Magnus didn´t comment, “I won´t hurt him or her. I don´t do that anymore. She should give me a chance, shouldn´t she? Everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

“She doesn´t trust you, Per.”

“Well, she could try, couldn´t she? Maybe you can talk to her, she trusts you. You could talk to her, tell her to give me another chance. Let me see my grandson. I have feelings, too you know.”

Magnus sighed; the old man was stubborn and ignorant.

He didn´t understand that Tilda didn´t give a shit about him and his feelings and she wasn´t interested in giving second chances, she just wanted him out of her life. But he needed to keep the old man placid, so he wouldn´t go about creating more havoc.

“Alright, Per, I´ll try and talk to her but you have to promise me that you will not go about creating trouble and upsetting people here at Rettinge anymore, alright? Sören Hellström is slowly losing patience with you, Per and this is his land and his gård.”

Per gave a vicious little laugh, “Oh I don´t have to worry about the high and mighty baron.”

“Oh really? And why is that, Per?”

Per leaned forward conspiratorially, “I know things about him, you know. He did something very bad once and I know. And he knows I know, so he won´t do anything about me or I´ll tell everyone and then he will be in big trouble. No more the high and mighty lord of the manor then, you know? I have him in my hand, you see? But I can´t tell you about his hideous crime, because he and I have an agreement, you know?”

Magnus was speechless for a moment. What was the old man talking about now? He had Sören in his hand? Sören had committed a crime?

Even if he had, how would Per know about it? And what on earth could Sören have done that was so bad that Per could threaten him with the knowledge of this hideous crime?

No, Per Nielson was a sick man with a sick delusional mind. But Per was obviously expecting some kind of reaction from him in regard to his sensational revelations about Sören Hellström. Magnus didn´t think it was a good idea to tell him that he didn´t believe a single word of it, so instead he just grunted non-committally and said, “Well, that´s very interesting Per and good for you, I guess. But I wouldn´t go round telling everyone you are privy to Sören´s terrible secret, because I´m not sure if people will believe you. And we don´t want to start any half-baked rumours, do we?”

Per seemed pleased with this answer,“Oh, I wouldn´t dream of it. If and when I tell the world what I know, there will be nothing half-baked about it. Because you see Magnus, I have real hard evidence against him and there will be no doubt about his guilt when I bring forward my evidence.”

Now Magnus knew that the old man was completely off his rocker. “Er, okay Per, that´s good. Now, as pleasant as it is chatting to you, I really must be getting on.”

“Oh, so must I, so must I. I have people to see and things to do.”

Magnus gave him a sharp look, “Now remember, Per, you promised no more trouble at Rettinge, if I talk to Tilda.” “Oh, don´t worry, my business at hand has nothing to do with Rettinge. In fact I shall be leaving Rettinge and Vickleby for the day. I have errands elsewhere.”

“Right, okay, that´s good.”

“So thank you for your help regarding Tilda and now I really must be on my way.”

Per left the office and headed for the alley leading down to the main road. He looked at his watch. He had a bus to catch to Färjestaden but there was still plenty of time. When he passed the örtagård he was just in time to see Annet Sjöquist come out and head for her car. She´s probably been discussing the schedule of her guided tours for the Skördefest with Alma, Per thought. Well no time like the present to remind her of her obligations to me. Per stepped in her way, “Ah, the lovely Miss Sjöquist, how pretty you look today.”

Annet tried to sneak past him quickly, but he held on to her arm. “But where to so quickly, my fair maiden?”

“I am warning you, Mr. Nielson, let go of my arm.”

He leaned in to her and she could smell the alcohol on his breath,” Or what? What are you going to do? Complain about me? I don´t think so. Because we both know what will happen then, don´t we? And we don´t want that, do we? So don´t forget about our little meetings, Miss Sjöquist, or everyone will know about you. And people like nothing more than nasty gossip. And then life as you know it won´t be the same anymore, will it?”

Annet shook him off and hurried away as fast as she could. The man was unbearable. She tried to avoid him as much as possible, but he always managed to catch her off guard. Why couldn´t the earth just open up and swallow him, so they would all be rid of the old bastard?