Dark Angel (Anders Knutas 6)

order to get rid of it. Then I tried again, and this time I made a better job of it. The butter was hard and I couldn’t get the lumps to spread out evenly. I covered up the lumps with cheese. Then I had an idea. What if I put on three pieces of cheese instead of the two she usually ate? Wouldn’t that make her even happier? But when I saw the three pieces piled on top of each other on the bread, doubt seized hold of me again. It looked like a lot. What if she got angry because I was being wasteful? I didn’t dare take that risk, so I ate the extra piece of cheese too. Then I studied my handiwork. I was almost done.
    In a cupboard I found a tray and a small plate. Mamma hated to set sandwiches directly on the bare tabletop. After I’d arranged everything on the tray, I could see that something was still missing.
    Of course – how could I be so stupid? Coffee. I mustn’t forget the coffee. That was the most important part of all. Mamma always drank coffee first thing in the morning, otherwise she didn’t feel human, she said. And a paper napkin! She needed something to wipe her mouth with. She was always annoyed if the kitchen roll wasn’t on the table. I rushed over to the breakfast nook and tore off a piece. It looked a bit ragged. I tried again and managed to tear off a whole sheet. The first one I crumpled up and tossed in the bin. Now for the coffee. Again I was in doubt. How exactly was it made? I’d watched my mother cooking it on the stove. After that she would pour it into a thermos. Ours was made of red plastic with a black spout and lid. I needed water and coffee grounds, which were kept in a metal tin in the pantry. I got out the tin but then wondered how to get the powder inside the thermos. And it had to be cooked too. I turned around to look at the stove. I’d seen how my mother turned those knobs to make the burners hot. That much I knew. I paused to think. This was the only thing left to do, and I had to work it out for myself. Then my mother could have her breakfast. And be happy again. I chose one of the knobs and turned it to the number six, thinking that the biggest number must be the hottest. I waited for a moment, and then I held my hand over the burners. The one closest to me was getting warm. Hurray! I was excited, now that I was so close to achieving my goal. I picked up the thermos and turned on the tap. I had to climb up on the chair again to reach it. Then I filled the thermos half full of water. That seemed like enough. I picked up the coffee scoop and put a lot of grounds into the water. Now all I had to do was put it on the burner to cook. Proud of my ingenuity, I set the thermos on top of the hot burner. Just then I heard someone go into the bathroom upstairs. Darn. I hoped it wasn’t my mother.
    At that moment smoke began pouring from the stove. The smoke smelled terrible. Something must be wrong. The next second I heard Mamma come pounding down the stairs. My heart froze.
    ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she roared, yanking the thermos off the stove. ‘You must be bloody well out of your mind! Are you trying to burn down the whole house?’
    Thick smoke was now swirling around in the cramped kitchen. Mamma was furious. Through the billowing haze I saw the scathing look on her face. She was shouting and screaming. Behind her I heard my siblings come into the kitchen. My sister started wailing.
    ‘I was just trying to …’ I ventured, feeling my lower lip begin to quiver. I was paralysed with fear.
    ‘Out!’ she bellowed. ‘Get out of here this minute, you stupid child!’ She was shaking one hand at me. In the other she held the thermos. ‘You’ve wrecked the sodding thermos. Do you have any idea how expensive they are? Now I’m going to have to buy a new one. And I can’t afford it!’
    Her voice rose to a shriek, and then she started sobbing. Scared out of my wits, I raced upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me. I wished that I could have locked it. Wished that I could have run away and never come back. I crept under the covers like a frightened animal, shaking all over.
    I lay there for hours. But she never came.
    And the hole inside me grew.

THE DEDICATION OF the new conference centre in Visby was decidedly one of the high points of the year. The centre would put Gotland on the map in terms of hosting conferences and help to bring people to the island all year round – not just sun-seeking tourists in the summertime. Their shoulders hunched