The Dinosaur Feather

I’ll be there in an hour,’ she repeated, gravely. ‘If you make the batter, I’ll make pancakes when I get home.’
    Lily shouted with glee and Karen relented.
    When the bus had departed, Tybjerg said, ‘I’ve never met your daughter before.’
    And Anna replied, ‘No.’
    Then they caught a bus to Bellahøj police station. Tybjerg seemed drained and kept squinting in the light.
    They introduced themselves at the reception, but didn’t even have time to sit down before Søren Marhauge came racing out and looked from Anna to Dr Tybjerg, dumbfounded.
    ‘Er, hi,’ he said. ‘Glad you’re here.’
    They were put in separate interview rooms. Dr Tybjerg gave her an anxious look before his interview began, but Anna shook her head gently. You’ll be fine, she signalled.
    The interview lasted thirty minutes. Søren’s questions were precise and thorough, and she tried to reply likewise. When Søren told her that Asger Moritzen was dead, the tears started falling down her cheeks. Søren got up. He’s about to hand me a tissue, she thought, to wipe away my tears, tell me to pull myself together, be strong. But he didn’t. He squeezed her shoulders gently and told her she was free to go when she had signed her statement.
    Back at Anna’s they ate pancakes and later lasagne, salad and ice cream.
    ‘We’re having a party,’ Lily said, again and again, and Karen and Anna laughed every time.
    When Lily had been put to bed, they sat in separate chairs in front of the fire and shared a bottle of wine, while Anna told Karen the story from beginning to end, even though some of it was probably confidential. She didn’t care. When she had finished, Karen looked at her for a long time.
    ‘You need to open the door to Thomas’s room.’
    Anna closed her eyes and didn’t respond.
    ‘Anna—’
    ‘I’ll open it,’ she cut in. ‘I’m not scared of opening it. There’s nothing behind it. The room’s empty.’ She straightened up.
    ‘But first I have to do something that I really am scared of.’ She glanced at Karen.
    ‘Stay where you are,’ she went on. ‘Don’t say anything, don’t do anything, please. Just be here, all right?’
    Karen nodded.
    Anna stood by the dark window, her hand on the telephone, looking down into the street, now slushy with melted snow. She could see Karen’s reflection in the glass; she was sitting in the chair to the left of the stove with her legs curled up, her chin resting on her knee. Anna breathed right down into her diaphragm, then she picked up the telephone and pressed Thomas’s number. It was past eleven and it rang six times before he answered, drowsy with sleep.
    ‘It’s Anna,’ she said.
    Thomas sighed.
    ‘What do you want?’ he said, as though she rang him constantly. ‘I was asleep. I’m working shifts.’
    ‘I’m calling to tell you that I forgive you.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I’m saying,’ Anna cut the letters out of a large, heavy sheet of metal, ‘that I f-o-r-g-i-v-e you. I forgive you for messing up my and Lily’s life.’ Her voice gained strength. ‘I forgive you for being a fraud. I forgive you for never really loving me, and I forgive you for being cold. I forgive you for being a coward, I forgive you for all the stuff you haven’t got theguts to face, I forgive you for all your lies and your habit of blaming everyone but yourself. I forgive you for only seeing what you want to see, I forgive you for—’
    ‘Do you know something, I don’t need to listen to your crap,’ he said and slammed the telephone down.
    Anna looked out across the street.
    ‘No, I don’t suppose you have to. But I forgive you anyway, damn you,’ she said and added into the telephone: ‘Except one thing. I’ll never forgive you for depriving Lily of her father.’ Then she hung up.
    She turned around and faced Karen who was still sitting in front of the stove and said, ‘Why don’t we take a look at your new room?’
    Karen smiled.
    Johannes was cremated on Thursday 18 October. The day before Anna called Mrs Kampe to ask when and where, and she replied that it was a small and private service, but that Anna was welcome. When Anna arrived at the chapel of Charlottenlund Church at 12.50 p.m. she encountered ninety-five goths in full costume. It was a glorious sight. Mrs Kampe stood away from the crowd, looking lost.
    Inside the church, she sat alone in the front pew, but just before the service was about to begin, she rose and asked in a meek voice, ‘Why