Until Thy Wrath Be Past Read Online Free PDF

body and into her hands. She stands absolutely still. Dares not move for fear of frightening the moment away.
    She is at one with it all. With the snow, with the sky. With the river as it flows along, hidden beneath the ice. With Sivving, with the villagers. With everything. Everyone.
    I belong here, she thinks. Perhaps I do belong, irrespective of what I want or feel.
    Unlocking the door, she goes up the stairs.
    The feeling of reverence remains with her. Brushing her teeth and washing her face are a sacred ritual. Her thoughts remain still; nothing is bustling inside her head, just the sound of the toothbrush scrubbing and water running from the tap. She puts on her pyjamas like a christening suit. Takes the time to put clean sheets on the bed. The television and radio remain blind and silent. Måns calls her mobile, but she doesn’t answer.
    She lies down between the sheets, which have that unused, slightly crisp feel: they smell clean.
    Thank you, she thinks.
    Her hands are tingling; they are as hot as the stones in a sauna. But it is not an unpleasant feeling.
    She falls asleep.

     
    She wakes up at about 4.00 in the morning. It is light outside; the snow must have moved on. A young girl is sitting on her bed. She is naked. She has two rings in one eyebrow. Freckles. Her red hair is wet. Water is running from her hair down her spine, like a little stream. When she speaks, water dribbles constantly from her mouth and nose.
    It wasn’t an accident, she tells Martinsson.
    No, Martinsson says, sitting up in bed. I know.
    He moved me. I didn’t die in the river. Look at my hand.
    She holds up a hand to show Martinsson. The skin has been torn away. The knuckles are sticking out through the grey flesh. The little finger and thumb are missing.
    The girl looks sorrowfully at her hand.
    I broke my nails on the ice when I was trying to scratch my way out, she says.
    Martinsson gets the feeling that she is about to disappear.
    Wait, she says.
    She goes after the girl, who is running among the pine trees in a forest. Martinsson tries to follow her, but in the forest the snow is deep and wet, and she sinks up to her knees.
    Then Martinsson is standing at the side of her bed. She hears her mother’s voice in her head: That’s enough now, Rebecka. Relax.
    It was just a dream, Martinsson tells herself. She gets back into bed and drifts off into different dreams. Open sky above her head. Black birds flying up from the tops of the pine trees.

 
    I go to visit the prosecutor. She’s the first person to see me since I died. She’s wide awake. Sees me clearly when I sit down on her bed. Her farmor is standing in the bedroom as well. She is the first dead person I’ve seen since I died myself. The first dead person I’ve ever seen, in fact. The grandmother eyes me up and down. You can’t just come and go as you like here, stirring up trouble. The prosecutor has a stern protector. I ask permission to speak to her granddaughter.
    I’ve no desire to frighten or upset anybody. All I want is for them to find Simon. I don’t know where to turn. I can’t bear to see them. Anni is at home in her house with the pink Eternit cladding, gazing out of the window in the direction of the road. She sometimes goes for days without speaking. Occasionally she takes her kick-sledge and wanders through the village. Now and then she struggles up the stairs to my room and looks at my bed.
    Simon’s mother stares at his father with hatred in her eyes as he wolfs down his food and then rushes out of the house. Their relationship is sterile; they have nothing to say to each other. He can’t stand the sight of her. She tried to talk when it first happened. Wept and woke him in the night. But she’s stopped now. He’d simply take his pillow and go to sleep on the sofa in the living room. When she begged him to say something, he merely said he had to get up and go to work the next day. She has run out of accusations and pleas. She needs to be able to