The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

much ever happened. Life proceeded at a predictable tempo among the gardens surrounding the detached homes and the sites of the terraced houses. But suddenly there was something different in the air. She stopped, wiped the sweat from her brow, removed the water bottle from her belt and drank a few gulps. She glanced around, studying the façades of the houses and the few cars parked along the road. Not a soul in sight. On the surface everything seemed calm.
    She was on her way home from her usual exercise routine: power-walking at a furious pace. For once she hadn’t managed to persuade any of her neighbours to come along. On this particular morning all the women who usually accompanied her were busy. Why? Was it because of the rain? she thought with annoyance. She had never let the weather deter her. And besides, it was only a light drizzle.
    Since she was without a companion, she had been forced to confine her 10 kilometres to the small paths around the neighbourhood. How dreary. She preferred the woods but didn’t dare go there alone because she couldn’t relax. She always imagined that a rapist was about to appear as soon as she heard the slightest rustling in a nearby thicket.
    Her stomach was growling. She always walked before breakfast. That way she burned off more fat, which was something that Andrea Dahlbergwas extremely interested in doing, even though there was no sign of any extra kilos on her toned body. She had almost reached home now and was thinking about how much she longed for some freshly squeezed orange juice and vanilla yoghurt with her own homemade muesli. Along with slices of kiwi and fresh raspberries from the bushes in her greenhouse in the back garden. Espresso and the morning paper. Always the same routine. Today she could also enjoy greater calm than usual because she was home alone and didn’t have to go in to work. Her holiday had already started. Sam was up in Fårösund working on a film and was expected home the following day. The children were going to spend the next two weeks in the Stockholm archipelago with their maternal grandmother and the man she had been married to for so long that the kids forgot he wasn’t Andrea’s father. They had left yesterday. She should have plenty of peace and quiet.
    But then that feeling had come over her. So subtle that it was barely noticeable. Like a whispering at the back of her neck. Andrea again glanced around, looking in all directions. Nobody was behind her. She was the only one on the road. The only person she had met since nearing home was a man wearing a straw hat and sunglasses who had been walking towards her on the opposite pavement. He had raised his hand in greeting, but she hadn’t recognized him. Maybe he was visiting someone. She straightened the visor of her baseball cap and stretched her back, trying to shake off the sense of unease.
    She was relieved to see in the distance one of her neighbours coming towards her. Pushing a pram, as usual. Even though Sandra was not one of Andrea’s best friends, she was always pleasant, and she and her husband were part of her general circle of acquaintances.
    She greeted Sandra cheerfully. They exchanged a few words about the weather and the upcoming summer holidays. Nothing special. Sandra seemed stressed and kept evading her eyes, her smile a bit strained. A few minutes later she excused herself, saying that she was in a hurry and had an appointment at the social services office.
    Andrea was almost home. She passed the Halldéns’ house, which wasmade of sand-lime brick painted pink. It was much bigger and showier than the neighbouring houses, with its luxurious, pillar-lined driveway, curving staircase and a fountain on the lawn. She remembered how she and Sam had laughed at such an ostentatious display. Who did the Halldéns think they were? The Ewings in
Dallas
?
    The rain had stopped, but the air was still heavy with moisture. The street was deserted. The grass was fragrant from the rain. The vegetation in the resplendent gardens was a sumptuous green right now, at the beginning of summer. Things had looked quite different when she and Sam and the kids had moved into the new development fifteen years ago. Back then the land around the houses consisted mostly of heaps of dirt and scraggly, sparsely planted shrubs meant to provide a semblance of hedges along carefully plotted property lines. By now the area was lush and flourishing and spacious houses with neatly mown lawns lined