‘Okay, now, my boy, first we need to analyse the situation,’ said Mellberg, putting down the furious baby. ‘Let’s see. Looks like you’ve made a mess in your nappy. And you’re probably hungry. In other words, we’ve got a crisis at both ends. It’s just a matter of which one to prioritize.’ Mellberg was talking loudly, in order to drown out the screaming. ‘Okay, eating always comes first – at least, for me it does. So let’s find you a big bottle of formula.’
Bertil lifted Leo up and carried him into the kitchen. He’d been given detailed instructions on how to make the formula and, using the microwave, it took no time at all. He carefully tested the temperature by sucking a little from the bottle himself.
‘Hmmm, doesn’t really taste of much, my boy. But you’ll just have to wait for the good stuff until you’re a bit older.’
Leo screamed even louder at the sight of the bottle, so Bertil sat down at the kitchen table and nestled the infant in his left arm. When the nipple touched Leo’s lips, he began greedily sucking the formula into his stomach. He finished off the whole bottle in a flash, and Mellberg could feel the tiny body relaxing. But soon the boy began squirming again, and the odour was now so strong that Mellberg couldn’t stand it any longer. The only problem was that changing nappies wasn’t a task that he’d managed very successfully so far.
‘All right, now we’ve satisfied one end. Let’s go take care of the other,’ he said in a sprightly tone of voice that didn’t correspond in the slightest to his true feelings about the job.
Mellberg carried the whimpering Leo into the bathroom. He’d helped the girls fasten a changing table to the wall, and there he found everything he needed for Operation Dirty Nappy.
He placed the infant on the table and pulled off his pants, trying to breathe through his mouth, but it didn’t help much because the smell was so overwhelming. Mellberg loosened the tape on the nappy and just about fainted when the whole mess in all its stinky glory appeared before his eyes.
‘Dear Jesus,’ he muttered. He glanced around in desperation and caught sight of a package of wet wipes. When he reached for them, letting go of the baby’s legs, Leo took the opportunity to bury his feet in the dirty nappy.
‘No, no, don’t do that,’ said Mellberg, grabbing a whole fistful of wipes to dry off the baby’s bottom and feet. But all he managed to do was smear the shit around until he realized that he needed to remove the cause of the problem. He lifted Leo by his legs and coaxed out the nappy, which he then dropped into the rubbish bin standing on the floor, unable to stop the grimace that appeared on his face.
Having used up half the package of wipes, he finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst of the mess had been cleaned up, and Leo had calmed down. Mellberg carefully wiped away the last of it and took a new nappy from the shelf above the changing table.
‘All right then. We’re just about done here,’ he said with satisfaction as Leo kicked his legs, seeming pleased with the chance to air out his bare bottom. ‘I wonder which way this goes on.’ Mellberg twisted and turned the nappy, deciding at last that the little animal pictures must go in the back, like the label on a piece of clothing. It didn’t seem to fit very well, and the tape didn’t close properly. How could it be so hard to make a proper nappy? It was lucky that he was such an efficient person who regarded a problem as a challenge.
Mellberg lifted Leo up, carried him back to the kitchen, and held him against his shoulder as he rummaged in the bottom drawer under the counter. There he found what he was looking for. A roll of tape. He went into the living room, placed Leo on the sofa, and wrapped tape several times around the nappy. Then he sat back to admire his handiwork.
‘Okay now. The girls were worried that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you. What do you say, Leo? Don’t you think we’ve earned the right to take a little snooze?’
Bertil picked up the now well-taped baby and held him in his arms as he settled himself in a comfortable position on the sofa. Leo rooted around a bit before burrowing his face in the hollow of the police chief’s neck.
When the women in their lives came home half an hour later, they were both sound asleep.
‘Is Christian at home? Erica would have liked nothing better than to turn and run when Sanna opened the door. But Patrik was right. She had no choice.
‘Yes, but he’s up in the attic. I’ll call him.’ Sanna turned towards the stairs. ‘Christian! You have a visitor!’ she shouted and then looked again at Erica. ‘Come on in. He’ll be down in a minute.’
‘Thanks.’ Erica felt awkward standing there in the front hall next to Sanna, but soon they heard footsteps on the stairs. When Christian came into view, she noticed how worn out he looked, and the guilt she was feeling grew even worse.
‘Hi,’ he said, looking a bit puzzled to see her so soon, but he came to give her a hug.
‘There’s something I need to talk to you about,’ said Erica, feeling again an urge to turn on her heel and dash out the door.
‘Really? Well, come on in,’ said Christian, motioning towards the living room. She took off her coat and shoes and followed after him.
‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘No, thanks.’ She shook her head. All she wanted was to get this whole thing over with.
‘How did the book-signings go?’ she asked, sitting down at one end of the living-room sofa. She sank deep into the cushions.
‘Fine,’ said Christian in a tone of voice that did not invite further questions. ‘Did you see the newspaper yesterday?’ he asked instead. His face was a pallid grey in the winter light filtering through the window.
‘Yes, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’ Erica paused to muster her courage to go on. One of the twins gave her a hard kick in the ribs, and she gasped.
‘Are the babies kicking?’
‘You can say that again.’ She took a deep breath and went on. ‘It’s my fault that the story got leaked to the press.’
‘What do you mean?’ Christian sat up straighter.
‘I wasn’t the one who tipped them off,’ she hurried to explain. ‘But I was stupid enough to mention it to the wrong person.’ She didn’t dare meet Christian’s eyes. Instead, she looked down at her hands.
‘You mean Gaby?’ said Christian wearily. ‘But didn’t you realize that she would -’
Erica interrupted him. ‘Patrik said the exact same thing. And you’re both right. I should have known not to trust her, that she would view it as an opportunity to get some publicity. I feel like a real fool. I shouldn’t have been so naive.’
‘Well, there’s not much to be done about it now,’ said Christian.
His resigned attitude made Erica feel even worse. She almost wished that he would yell at her. That would have been preferable to looking at the tired and disappointed expression on his face.
‘I’m sorry, Christian. I’m so sorry about all this.’
‘Let’s just hope that she was right, in any case.’
‘Who?’
‘Gaby. Then at least I’ll sell more books as a result.’
‘I don’t understand how anyone can be so cynical. To throw you to the wolves like that just because it might be good for business.’
‘She didn’t get to be as successful as she is today by trying to be everybody’s friend.’
‘But still. It can’t be worth it.’ Erica was filled with remorse about what she’d done, even though she’d acted in good faith. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand how anyone with a conscience could behave the way Gaby had done. And all for the sake of making a profit.
‘I’m sure it will blow over,’ said Christian, but he didn’t sound convinced.
‘Were you hounded by reporters today?’ Erica shifted her position, trying to get more comfortable. No matter how she sat, it felt like one or another of her internal organs was getting pinched.