I Am Behind You Read Online Free PDF

are dealing with an altered reality rather than a geographical location. In the best-case scenario she thinks it is only temporary, like an optical illusion.
    The men are more inclined to regard the situation as a problem to be solved, a nut to be cracked. If they have been moved, how has this happened? If everything around them has been dismantled, how is that possible? And why? Why?
    Lennart and Olof follow the discussion, listening and nodding, but they say very little, offer no theories.
    Mobile phone histories are examined with the aim of working out exactly when contact with the outside world was lost. Isabelle is the person who received the latest text, from a friend on her way home from a party. The message arrived at 2.26 am. Since then, nothing.
    Molly woke up just before she roused Isabelle at about six-thirty.
    It happened at some point during those four hours. Whatever ‘it’ might be.
    *
    The people are busy, and Benny seizes the opportunity. A quick thirty-metre dash and he is standing below the window where Cat is lying, puffing herself up to twice her size.
    Cat is like Benny in some ways, and completely different in others. She is unpleasant and provocative, which is why Benny starts barking at her.
    Cat cannot bark—it’s just one of those things. Instead she gets to her feet and makes that noise that sounds like fast-flowing water. Cat makes her noise and Benny barks until he feels a hand seize him by the back of the neck, and hears his master’s voice.
    ‘Shut up, you stupid dog!’
    Benny whimpers and scrabbles helplessly in the air with his paws as he is carried back Home by the scruff of his neck. The last thing he sees is Cat lying down and beginning to wash herself. As if she is pleased. This is so annoying that he lets out another bark, then he goes flying several metres through the air and lands on his back in his basket. He yelps in pain and curls up, hiding his head under his blanket.
    *
    ‘What do you think you’re doing to that dog?’
    Isabelle has never been interested in animal rights’ issues, but there is something about the way Donald behaves that disgusts her. It is possible that the feeling is mutual, because Donald looks at her as if she were a slug in his garden. He smiles and says: ‘No need for you to bother your pretty little head about that, my dear.’
    Isabelle is not often lost for words. Donald is so lacking in self-awareness with his John Wayne–style machismo that it is almost frightening. She glances at Peter to see if there is any reaction to the way Donald has spoken to her, and indeed there is. He is staring down at the ground, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
    ‘Right, listen up!’ Donald says to the group. ‘How about we give each other a little space to begin with—what do you think?’ He pushes outwards with his hands as if he is knocking down invisible walls. ‘I don’t see the point in treading on each other’s toes when we have all this room!’
    Donald is wearing an old pair of tracksuit bottoms. Isabelle studies the area around the crotch, where a number of dried urine stains can be seen. Three steps forward and one good kick, right there. It’s an option. For the time being she raises her voice and says: ‘We can talk as much as we like about how and when we got here and how to arrange our caravans, but surely we have to start by finding out what’s out there, for fuck’s sake. There might be a supermarket just a few kilometres away! How about that? Freshly baked bread and some porn mags for good old Donald!’
    She looks Donald straight in the eye as she says this. His cheeks flush, and Isabelle feels that the kick is no longer necessary. Peter steps between them and gives Isabelle a dirty look before he speaks: ‘I’ll go. My wife’s choice of words may not always be…but I’m happy to go.’
    Isabelle is about to say something suitably devastating to Peter, but Molly tugs at her hand.
    ‘Mummy? I want