Black Seconds Read Online Free PDF Page A

realised just how serious the situation was. Her son was still fiddling with the keyboard, moving the prowling cat into a blind alley. The mouse stayed put, waiting for its next move.
    ‘So that dent of yours is not worth worrying about,’ she said in a fraught voice. ‘It’s just some damage to an old car, which can be fixed. I hope you understand how unimportant it is.’
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    He nodded slowly. She could hear his breathing; it was laboured.
    ‘So what happened, then?’ she said with sudden sympathy. ‘Were you hurt?’
    He shook his head. Ruth felt sorry for him. A dented car represented a defeat. He was young and thought he knew it all, and the dent had under mined his pride in the worst possible way. She did understand, but was not prepared to offer him anything more than basic sympathy. She wanted him to grow up.
    ‘I hit a crash barrier,’ he said.
    ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Where?’
    ‘By the bridge. In the centre of town.’
    ‘Were you with Bjørn?’
    ‘No. Not then.’
    ‘Do you want me to go out to the garage and have a look?’ she asked.
    ‘There’s no need,’ he said in a tired voice. ‘I’ve talked to Willy. He’ll help me repair it. I haven’t got any money, but he says he can wait.’
    ‘Willy?’ Ruth frowned. ‘Are you still friends with him? I thought you were going over to Bjørn’s?’
    ‘I was,’ Tomme said. ‘But Willy knows about cars. That’s why I drove over to his place. Willy has the tools and a garage, Bjørn doesn’t have anything like that.’
    He started moving the cat again. Why won’t he look at me? Ruth wondered. An awful thought struck her.
    ‘Tomme,’ she said breathlessly, ‘you haven’t been drinking, have you?’
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    He spun around in his chair and gave her an irate look. ‘Are you out of your mind? Of course I don’t drive when I’ve been drinking. Are you saying I drink and drive?’
    He was so genuinely outraged that she felt ashamed. His face was white as chalk. His longish hair was unkempt, and in the midst of everything that was going on, Ruth noticed that it could do with a wash.
    She lingered in the doorway for a while. She could not calm herself down, she did not feel tired; all the time she was listening out for the telephone in case it should ring. She sensed how shocked she would be if it actually did ring. She imagined the moment when she would lift up the receiver and wait. Standing at the edge of the void. She would either fall into it or be pulled back from the edge and into the comforting reassurance of a happy ending. Because this had to have a happy ending. She could not imagine the alternative, not here, in this peaceful place, not for Ida.
    ‘I’m going over to Helga’s early tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to give Marion breakfast and help her get ready. I want you to walk her to the school bus. And don’t just walk her there,’ she added. ‘I want you to wait until she’s found her seat. Do you hear me? I need to be with Helga in case anything happens. Uncle Anders is there at the moment,’ she said quietly.
    She sighed forlornly and told her son to go to bed. Left him and went outside. It was a spur-of-the 31
    moment decision. She opened the door to the double garage. She was surprised to see that her son had covered the Opel with a tarpaulin. He never usually did. I suppose he can’t bear to look at it, she thought. She turned on the garage light. Lifted up the tarpaulin. On the right-hand side she found what she was looking for. A dent, a broken front light and some damage to the paintwork. It was scarred by long grey and white scratches. She shook her head and replaced the tarpaulin. Went back outside. Stood there pondering. Felt the rain on her neck, raw and cold. She glanced quickly up at the window to her son’s bedroom, which overlooked the drive. There she saw his pale face partly hidden by the curtain.
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CHAPTER 3
    Helga woke with a jolt. She sat up in bed. For a brief second everything