'Let me,' she said, snatching the tin of coffee from his hand.

'What's got into you?' said Kaj in the same annoyed tone of voice.

Monica took a deep breath to calm herself down as she silently counted out spoonfuls of coffee. It wasn't worth starting a fight with Kaj on top of everything else.

'Nothing,' she said. 'I'm just a little tired. And I don't like it that the police were here talking to Morgan.'

'Well, what can we do about it?' said Kaj, sitting down at the kitchen table and waiting for the coffee to be served. 'He's a grown man, even if you refuse to believe it,' he added.

'You of all people ought to know how difficult things are for

Morgan. Where have you been all these years? Aren't you part of this family?' The irritation crept back into her voice, and she began slicing the Swiss roll with more energy than necessary.

'I've been part of this family as much as you have, thank you very much. On the other hand, I haven't been as inclined to coddle Morgan. Or drag him from one shrink to another. What good has that done? He just sits out there in his cabin all day long, getting weirder and weirder with each passing year.'

'I never coddled him,' said Monica between clenched teeth. 'I tried to give our son the best care he could get, considering what he's had to deal with. The fact that you chose to ignore him is something you'll have to live with. If you spent half the time with him that you spend on your exercise routines…'

She practically slammed the plate of Swiss roll onto the table and then stood leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

'All right, all right,' said Kaj, trying to placate her as he stuffed a piece of cake in his mouth. He was in no mood for a fight either, this early in the morning. 'No need to drag that up again. At any rate, I agree with you that it's unpleasant having the police running in and out. Why don't they focus their attention on that damned bitch next door instead?'

Now that he was onto his favourite topic again, he pulled the curtain aside and looked over at the Florins' house.

'Seems quiet over there. I wonder what all those cars were doing there on Friday? And all the boxes and equipment they carried in?'

Monica dropped her guard reluctantly and sat down across from him. She took a piece of cake even though she knew she shouldn't. Her craving for sweets had already added some weight around her hips. But Kaj didn't seem to mind, so why should she make an effort?

'I have no idea, and it's not worth worrying about. The main thing is that they leave Morgan alone.'

The cold, sinking feeling in Monica's stomach refused to subside. With each day it got worse and worse. The sugar in the cake calmed her nerves for a while, but she knew that anxiety would soon overpower her again. In despair she looked at Kaj across the table. She considered telling him everything, but soon realized how absurd that would be. Thirty years together and they had nothing in common. He was contentedly chewing another piece of Swiss roll, unaware of the wolves' claws ripping his wife apart inside.

'Shouldn't you be at work?' said Kaj and stopped chewing.

Typical. She should have left an hour ago, but he hadn't noticed until now that she'd stayed home.

'I called in sick. I'm not feeling well.'

'You look okay to me,' he said critically. 'A little pale, maybe. Well, you know I keep telling you to quit that job. It's crazy to keep slaving away there when you don't have to. We don't really need your salary.'

A violent rage flared up inside her. She jumped to her feet.

'I don't want to hear any more about that. I stayed at home for more than twenty years and did nothing but iron your shirts and fix dinner for you and your business associates. Don't I have the right to my own life?'

She snatched up the plate of cake, went over to the rubbish bin and demonstratively dumped in the last pieces on top of the coffee grounds and food scraps. Then she left Kaj gaping at the kitchen table. She couldn't stand looking at him for another second.

Mia parked the pram in back of Järnboden hardware store and made sure that Liam was asleep. She was just going to run in and buy a few things, and she didn't feel like dragging the pram inside. The wind was blowing hard, but it was worse at the front of the shop, the side facing the water. At the back the shop was protected against the wind by the stone mass of Veddeberget, and the car would be fine there for the five minutes she planned to be gone.

The bell over the door rang as she entered. The shop was filled with everything that do-it-yourself handymen and boat lovers could ever possibly need. She checked the shopping list Markus had given her to see what she was supposed to buy. He'd promised to put up the rest of the shelves in the nursery this weekend if she picked up the necessary hardware.

Mia was happy to be getting the nursery done at last. Months had flown by, and despite the fact that Liam was already six months old, his room still looked like it was under construction. It was not like the cosy, snug children's room she had always dreamt of. The only problem was that she was depending on her boyfriend to fix up the room. She'd never held a hammer in her life and he was actually quite handy once he put his mind to it; unfortunately that didn't happen very often.

Sometimes she wondered whether the rest of her life would be like this. When they first met, she'd thought his philosophy was wonderful: always have a good time and never do anything boring. She had latched on to his lifestyle, and for almost a year they had lived a marvellously carefree life with lots of partying and spur- of-the-moment decisions. But eventually she had grown tired of all that. She felt the responsibilities of adult life growing more insistent – especially since she'd had Liam. In the meantime Markus kept on living in his little bubble; she felt like she now had two children to raise. He didn't contribute anything towards food and rent either. If she hadn't been living at home and getting money from her parents, they would have starved to death.

Markus was good at talking his way into jobs, that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was that no job ever lived up to his expectations, or his demands that everything always had to be cool, so he usually quit after a couple of weeks. Then he would loaf about for a while, living off her until he succeeded in charming his way into a new job. He slept most of the day as well, so he almost never helped out, either with the housework or with Liam. Instead he stayed up all night playing computer games.

To be honest, Mia had begun to tire of the way they were living. She was twenty years old and felt like forty. She kept hearing herself harping and nagging, and sometimes to her horror she sounded just like her mother.

Mia sighed as she walked down one aisle of shelves. She looked at the list. Nails and some of the other things he needed she found quite easily, but she had to ask for help to find the screws. When she was finished at last and about to pay Berit at the checkout, she glanced at the clock. A quarter of an hour had flown by while she was ticking off the items on the list, and she felt sweat starting to trickle from her armpits. She hoped Liam hadn't woken up. She hurried to the door with her purchases, and as soon as she stepped outside she heard his piercing screams, just as she had feared. But they sounded different from the way they were when he was angry, hungry, or upset. This was a scream of sheer panic, and it echoed shrilly off the rock wall of Veddeberget.

Mia's maternal instinct told her that something was wrong, and she dropped her bags and ran to the pram. When she looked down at him her heart stopped for an instant as she tried to understand what she was seeing. Liam's face was black with something that looked like ashes, or soot. In his open, shrieking mouth she also saw a clump of ashes, and he kept sticking out his tongue in an attempt to get rid of the nasty stuff. The inside of the pram was coated with the black powder, and when Mia lifted up her panic-stricken son and pressed him to her breast, her coat became covered with it too. Her mind could still not form any sensible theory of what had happened, but with Liam in her arms she ran back inside Järnboden. All she knew was that someone had done something to her son. As the clerk rang for help, Mia tried desperately to get the ashes out of Liam's mouth using a paper napkin.