As we stepped back into the living room, the heavy, warm weight of Bella barrelled into my leg. Reaching down, my fingers sank into the thick, silky fur behind her ears. Her warm breath, huffing softly against my thigh.
“It was great seeing Asmund today,” I said, glancing at Lela as she closed the door behind us. “He’s looking much better than I had expected.”
Lela let out a slow sigh, shrugging her leather jacket off her shoulders and hanging it on the hook beside the door.
“He looks so fragile,” she muttered in a low voice as a dark shadow settled across her face. “All those tubes and wires… I just hope they catch the monster who did that to him. It sounds like that policeman has a good idea of who it might be.”
“Asmund was pleased to see you, though.” I cut in quickly. I didn’t want to think about Rune, and I certainly didn’t want to think about Skarsgård. “I really loved how excited he was to hear that you’re going to be playing solo tonight.”
Together we walked across the thick carpet of the living room, settling ourselves down on the sofa.
“Do you really think I can do this tonight?” Lela said, her eyes looking at me through those long lashes, desperately seeking reassurance. “I’ve never played without Asmund before. Not anywhere as big as the Kjelleren, at least.”
“I know you’ll be amazing,” I said, patting her knee with gentle firmness. “I’ll be there the whole time, cheering you on from the front row.”
Lela’s face broke into a wide smile. “Thank you, babe! With you and Ingrid beside me, I know it’ll be a perfect night.”
Ingrid. The sound of her name scratched at my ears. It was like a parasite trying to claw its way into my skull. The muscles in my shoulders cramped into tight knots while ruby-red eyes glittered around the room. Their voices hissed at me, repeating that name over and over again until it drowned out everything else.
“Poor Ingrid,” I said. My voice sounded warm. To anyone else, my forced smile looked genuine. But inside me, something cold and hard had settled. “She looked exhausted this morning.”
“She did.” Lela’s brow furrowed as she spoke. “I feel terrible for leaving her on her own. I’ll give her a call to see how she’s doing.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” My lips twisted around the words I spoke. A better idea, a far darker idea was already blooming in my mind. “You need to get yourself ready for tonight. Why don’t I pop over to see her? Maybe I’ll pick up some chocolates on the way to cheer her up?”
“Oh, that’s such a lovely offer,” Lela said, the smile on her face widening. “Do you know something, Heidi? I had wanted to tell you about Ingrid for so long, but I was terrified of how you would take it. It’s been great watching the two of you click.”
“Oh, don’t be so silly. You never had to hide yourself around me,” I said, placing my hand on top of hers, the words stinging my tongue like bile. “I’m so pleased to see you happy, Le-Le. To see you able to be yourself.”
Leaning over, she planted a light kiss on my cheek. Her lips felt soft and hot as they brushed my skin. The heady scent of her perfume filled my senses; those spicy, floral tones lingered in the air long after she’d pulled away.
“You’re an angel, babe!” she said, settling back on the sofa. “Tell Ingrid that I’m looking forward to seeing her tonight.”
“Of course I will,” I replied.
The walk to the tram station felt like a dream. The afternoon air hung heavy and cool, carrying a damp chill that clung to my clothes. Overhead, leaden grey clouds sagged low, casting the world in a desaturated, colourless hue. But despite the gloom, a feverish heat pulsated beneath my skin. Pins and needles prickled like thousands of tiny claws scrabbling over my body. The only sound that penetrated the dullness was the thumping of my own heart, a frantic peal that hammered against my ears.
My hand brushed against the pocket of my jeans. I could feel the cold, hard glass vial through the rough denim. I couldn’t tell you when I had picked it up or even why I had put it in my pocket. I look back on those days now, and so much is still a blur to me. The things that I did made no sense. I do understand a bit more now about why I am the way that I am. But back then, with so much still locked away in my head, so many things that I was totally ignorant of, I honestly believed I was doing the right thing.
I was protecting Lela. I was doing what the voices, my guardians, demanded of me.
The tram ride from Lela’s house to the flat Ingrid shared with her brother took barely twenty minutes.
I climbed onto one of the brand new, light blue trams at the Skarpsno stop. Settling into the seat, I watched the city slip past in a colourless blur. The incessant, electric hum vibrated through the floorboards, while blue sparks crackled and arced between the pantograph and the damp cables swaying above, filling the car with the sharp scent of ozone.
Getting off the tram at Olaf Ryes plass, I crossed the road to a small convenience store.
The bell above the door gave a metallic jingle as I entered. The air inside was thick with the smell of stale tobacco and floor polish. Making my way past the racks of newspapers and magazines, I headed for a shelf piled with confectionary. My hand hovered for a moment over a bright yellow bar of Freia chocolate before picking up a box of Konfekt. Perhaps not as expensive as Lela would have bought, but certainly a step up from Freia and more than enough for my purposes.
Stepping back onto the street, a single drop of rain landed on my cheek. The oppressive air pressed down on my shoulders, while in the distance, a faint rumble of thunder rolled.
Pulling my jacket tightly around myself, I set off towards Ingrid’s flat.
The four floored, grey tenement building, its concrete façade weathered and stained, loomed over the pavement, the top floor lost in the darkness of the sagging clouds. I pushed open the heavy wooden, graffiti covered door with a low creak. The air inside was warmer, carrying the faint scent of old dust and dank plaster. Before me rose the staircase, the steps covered in an old, threadbare brown carpet. In many places it had been worn through entirely, exposing the dark stained wood beneath.
Every step creaked as I slowly made my way up to the second floor. The creatures following close behind, muttering their encouragement as their claws scraped dryly on the peeling paintwork and old paint of the walls.
An old pendant light swung on its cord, the flickering bulb causing the shadows to dance and twist around me.
I stopped at a black door marked with the number 3b. For a moment I just stood there, the voices falling silent as I did nothing but listen. From behind that door, I could hear nothing but silence. Adjusting my grip on the chocolates in one hand while my other reached out, knuckles striking the door.
Three sharp raps echoed in the old, narrow hallway.
Silence at first, and then I heard a soft shuffle followed by a creak from the door.
“Heidi?” A pair of sunken, dark-rimmed eyes peered out through the crack in the door before it was flung open. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is it Asmund?”
“Oh no, nothing’s wrong at all.” I said, my smile painted across my face. “Lela’s busy getting ready for the gig tonight, and I thought you might need a friend.”
I held up the box of chocolates, the cellophane wrapper glinting like a blade in the artificial yellow light of the landing.
“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you,” she piped up with a sickly grin on her pale face. “Why don’t you come on in.”
That was the first time that I’d been back in that flat since that night with Asmund, but it was exactly how I’d remembered it. The small lounge, its walls still covered with a myriad of tour posters. My eyes snagged on the low, squat table sitting between the sofa and the TV. Its surface was a jumbled litter of books and videotapes, but amongst the chaos was a small, golden framed photo of Lela and Ingrid.
How had Ingrid managed to deceive me for so long? How had I not seen all the signs that now screamed out to me from around the flat? Photos, makeup, even a pair of shoes against the wall – far too small, far too elegant to belong to Ingrid. All those little pieces of Lela that littered the lounge, yet had so oddly been absent in Asmund’s room.
“Do you want something to drink?” Ingrid’s voice, thin and screeching, sliced through my thoughts and snapped me back to the present.
“Why don’t you take these and go and sit yourself down.” I said, handing her the chocolates. “You’re shattered, let me fix some drinks.”
The box was decorated with an old painting of a black horse being led through one of the gates of medieval Oslo. Those giant, imposing gates, along with the sturdy walls that had once protected the city, had long since been torn down by the unrelenting force of progress. My eyes settled on it for a moment.
“You’re too sweet, Heidi,” she said, her spidery fingers closing around the chocolates. “I haven’t really kept on top of the shopping lately so I’m a bit low on things. But there should be some coffee in the jar and milk in the fridge.”
“Have you got anything stronger?” I said with a dry, practiced laugh. “After the last few days, I could really do with a proper drink.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied with a goofy chuckle. “There might be some of Asmund’s beers in the fridge, or Lela might have stashed something away in the cupboard under the sink.”
Nodding, I stepped into the kitchen.
It was a cramped, dark room. The only light was the dim glow that managed to creep in through the small, square window, set high into the far wall.
In the gloom, the creatures’ eyes gleamed like shards of bloodied glass. Their voices became a rasping chorus of encouragement.
Crouching down in front of the sink, the cold, hard quarry tiles pressed into my knees. Yanking on the cupboard door, it swung open, filling the room with the scent of moist wood and something faintly metallic. My hand fumbled in the dark for a moment before snatching a half full bottle of aquavit. The liquid inside was pure and clear, reflecting the dim light.
Placing the bottle on the white melamine counter, I quickly grabbed a couple of glass tumblers from the drying rack.
“Did you find anything?” came a mousy squeak from the lounge.
“I found Lela’s stash.” I called back. “I’m just getting the glasses. You stay there and I’ll bring it out to you.”
Unscrewing the cap, I carefully poured a generous measure into each glass. The spicy, medicinal smell of caraway and anise wafted up and stung my nostrils.
“Now! Now!” the voices hissed in my ear.
I glanced quickly at the kitchen door before dipping my hand into my pocket. My fingers curled around the small glass vial. It felt warm to the touch as I pulled it out and carefully removed the stopper.
With hands trembling with the same electric energy I had felt on the tram, I began to tip the vial into one of the glasses. How much would I need?
The resonant hum of the fridge was the only sound I could hear, even the creatures were silent. Watching quietly from their hiding places.
Slowly, a glistening droplet gathered on the glass rim. Small at first, it grew fatter. It hung there, heavy and trembling before plunging into the spirit. The first drop struck the aquavit with a muted splash, sending delicate ripples out across the surface. That was for taking my best friend away from me. A second plummeted into the clear liquid, the price for years of lies and deceit. A third, this one sharp and decisive for clipping Lela’s wings, for trapping her in a cage.
The fourth and final drop, that one was for Lela. A gift of freedom.
I had managed to drag myself out of Lars’ dungeon; now I could finally do the same for Lela.
The glass felt cold as I gave it a gentle swirl before returning to the lounge.
There she was, the box of chocolates already open in front of her, and a brown smear on her lower lip. She looked so small and pathetic, sitting on that sofa, so plain, so insignificant.
“Here we go.” I said, handing one glass over to her and raising the other. “Skål, to Asmund’s quick recovery.”
“Skål,” she said, tapping her glass against mine with a low clink. “I’m looking forward to tonight. The attack on Asmund has made me realise that I really should support him and Lela in their music more. I know the Kjelleren isn’t my sort of place, but it is their dream. I also want to spend more time with you. We never have really got to know each other. I used to avoid you. I was worried that you’d judge me and Lela for… just being us. But now, I would love it if we could be good friends.”
Smiling, I watched her lift the glass to her lips. I didn’t blink, my eyes remained fixed on the movement of her throat as she swallowed it down.