Annika Ekberg nodded.

'Yes, they did. Thanks for your help.'

'Don't mention it.'

The murmuring stopped when Kerstin appeared in the doorway. No one in the room could claim that she looked very happy.

'Hi everyone, and I'll say welcome even though it's not exactly a pleasant occasion this evening. Well, you might as well take your seats.'

Like obedient day-care children they did as she asked. Thirty-two parents in their plastic-bootied feet sat down. Eva's chair stood next to that of her lawfully wedded husband.

'As I'm sure you all understand, Linda is finding all this incredibly trying. Once again I'd like to assure you that she wasn't the one who sent you those emails; none of us has any idea how it happened. The Council's computer department will be starting its investigation first thing tomorrow morning. It wasn't possible to get hold of anyone over the weekend.'

'Isn't Linda here?'

It was Simon's mother who asked. Her tone was full of mistrust, and it was obvious to everyone in the room that she definitely did not appreciate the love letter to her husband.

Welcome to the club.

'Yes, here she comes now. I just want to say one thing first.'

She stepped aside and made room for Linda, who appeared in the doorway, head bowed. Kerstin placed an arm protectively round her shoulders, and the contact made Linda sniffle a bit. Eva saw Henrik clenching his hands out of the corner of her eye.

Linda cleared her throat but kept her gaze fixed on the padded rug.

Go ahead and look. It won't help you.

Then she opened her mouth to speak in her defence.

'I don't know what to say.'

The room was dead silent. For a long time it was quiet, long enough to make her start crying in earnest. She hid her face in one hand and Henrik squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

'Is there anyone beside you who has access to your email?'

Eva didn't recognise the voice asking the question behind her back.

'No, not that I know of, and now I can't get into it myself any longer. It seems as if the password has been changed.'

Try cock-teaser.

There was another silence, but not as long this time.

'So what was in the emails?'

A female voice this time, also unfamiliar.

'I don't know. As I said, I didn't write them and didn't read them either.'

'I can read it out loud if you like.'

Simon's father took a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and cleared his throat before he began to read, dry and matter-of-fact, as if from the minutes of a board meeting.

My love, Every minute, every moment I am wherever you are. Merely the knowledge that you exist makes me happy. I live for the brief times we have together. I know that what we're doing is wrong, that we shouldn't feel the way we do, but how could I ever say no? I don't know how many times I've decided to try and forget you, but then you stand there in front of me and I just can't. If everything came out I would probably lose my job, you would lose your family, everything would be chaos. And yet I can't stop loving you. The instant I pray that all this had never happened, I'm scared to death that my prayer might be answered. I realise that I am ready to lose everything as long as I can be with you.

I love you, your L It was as if the very air in the room were transformed as he read it aloud. With each syllable he read, Linda raised her eyes centimetre by centimetre until she met Henrik's. Eva turned a bit so she could look at him. His expression was impossible to read. Terror-stricken was the first word that popped into her mind. Then he turned to her and for the first time in a long while they looked at each other. And she saw that he was afraid. Afraid that his suspicions might turn out to be true. That she knew everything. Then she smiled to him and stood up.

'Listen, everyone, I'd like to say one thing if it's OK. Since it's obvious that Linda didn't send these emails, we have to believe what she says. I mean, just imagine if you were subjected to something like this and then had to stand up in front of all of us and defend yourself.'

She turned to Linda.

'I truly understand that this must be hell for you. I think you have shown tremendous courage to meet with us all today.'

But shut your trap, you goddamn bitch, before you start slobbering too.

She turned to the group again.

'What do you say? We might as well let that computer department figure this out, then we can try and forget it ever happened. We have to think of the children above all else. Don't you agree?'

A faint murmur and then some who began nodding. Henrik had assumed the same expression as Linda and sat with his mouth open, staring at her.

Yet another common feature they could build their future upon.

Simon's mother was the only one who seemed to have another opinion. That this shouldn't just be forgotten as if it had never happened.

Eva turned to Linda and Kerstin, and smiled. Kerstin gratefully acknowledged her smile, and perhaps that's what Linda was trying to do as well, it was hard to tell.

Kerstin took a step forward and put her hand on Eva's arm.

'Thank you, Eva, thank you very much.'

She let her gaze wander over the crowd of parents.

'Linda has asked for a few days off next week, and I think that's a good idea. She might need a little rest after all this.'

Eva glanced at Henrik, who was now sitting and staring at the floor. She knew that he would never dare ask her whether his suspicions were true. That would mean admitting what a cowardly and lying jerk he was.

She was still in control.

And the next morning she would wave good-bye to him from their driveway and say how much she hoped he would have a good time on holiday, and above all she would ask him to drive carefully.

She would have a full schedule while he was gone.

He was standing amongst the trees on the common when the Golf drove up the driveway. An unsettling revulsion had come over him when he realised that the house was empty, that he didn't know where she was. As soon as the car came to a stop the door on the driver's side opened and the man named Henrik climbed out and walked quickly towards the house. She remained sitting in the passenger seat, and when the car door was opened and the overhead light went on, he could swear that she was smiling. Then she got out, stood for a moment by the car and appeared to be in no hurry to reach the front door. The instant she put her hand on the door handle, he punched in the speed-dial number on his phone, and just as she disappeared into the house he heard the voice in his ear.

'Henrik.'

'Is this Henrik Wirenstrom-Berg?'

'Yes.'

He picked off a piece of bark on the tree in front of him. He was in no hurry.

'Are you alone?'

'What?'

'I mean, can you talk undisturbed?'

'With whom am I speaking?'

'Pardon me, my name is Anders and . . .'

He made a little pause for effect before he continued.

'I have something I'd like to speak with you about.'

'Oh yes? And what would that be?'

'It would be best if we could meet somewhere. I'd rather not talk about it on the phone.'

There was silence on the line. He heard porcelain rattling in the background and then the sound of a door closing. A lamp was turned on in one of the windows on the side of the house he was facing.

'And what does this regard?'

'I can meet you tomorrow whenever and wherever you like. Just tell me a time and place and I'll see you there.'

'Tomorrow I'm busy.'

I know that, you stupid idiot. But you can make it before the ferry leaves.

'How about on Tuesday?'

'I can't do it then either. I'll be out of town for a few days.'

He didn't intend to wait that long, he wouldn't be able to stand it. Somehow he had to arrange a meeting, but how much should he say? It went against the grain for him to plead with the pig on the other end, but the thought that he was doing it for her sake made him conquer his distaste.

'Henrik, it's best for both of us if we meet as soon as possible, you and I.'

And then when he didn't get a response, a little hint to put on the pressure: 'I just can't stand going behind your back any longer.'

The silence that followed confirmed that his words had hit home. It had been an innocuous statement. How could a man who was unfaithful know what might be going on behind his back? But the fact that someone was doing something behind his back, since he was doing the very same thing, might interest him enough to agree to a meeting.

Then he cleared his throat.

'I can meet you at nine tomorrow morning. In front of the main entrance to the Viking Line terminal at Stadsgrden. What do you look like?'

'No problem, I'll recognise you. I'll see you at nine.'

He hung up, looking towards the lighted window with a smile, and went back to his car.

He had seldom had such a calm night, and for the first time in ages he awoke thoroughly rested. He spent a long time picking out his clothes. It was important that he be dressed properly; Henrik had to understand that he had been outmanoeuvred by a man who was superior to him. He didn't want to take off the light-blue cardigan he had slept in; he was well aware of what had prompted his calm. It still smelled faintly of her, but he knew that it was a transitory security.

The phone rang.

He looked at his watch. It was only seven a.m. Who would call so early on a Monday morning? Not until he picked up the receiver did he realise that he hadn't even counted the rings.

'Jonas.'

'Hi, Jonas. This is Yvonne Palmgren at Karolinska.'

He couldn't say a word, only gasp furiously for breath. This time she apparently didn't intend to let him cut her off.

'I want to meet with you, Jonas. Anna's funeral is on Saturday and it's important that you be included in the process.'

'What process? Do you want me to dig the grave or what?'

He heard her take a breath.

'We're going to hold the funeral ceremony here at the hospital chapel, and I would like you to be involved in the planning. How she should be dressed, what kind of music to play, what kind of flowers to have, how to decorate the casket; no one knows better what she liked.'

'Ask Dr Sahlstedt. According to him, she couldn't even feel anything before she died, so I have a hard time believing that she would suddenly start caring now. By the way, I'm booked up this week.'

He hung up and had to admit, annoyed, that the conversation had got to him. Bothered him. The only way to deal with it was to counter-attack. He went out in the hall, picked up his wallet and took out the yellow Post-It note that Sahlstedt had given him. She answered after the first ring.

'Jonas here. I just want to say that if you or anyone else ever calls me again about Anna or anything to do with her then I'll . . . I have absolutely no obligations with regard to her, and for God's sake, I've done more than anyone could ask for that fucking whore. Do you understand what I'm saying?'

There was a pause before she replied. When she finally began to speak she did so calmly but with emphasis, as if every word were underscored with a red pen. A contemptuous tone, as if he were inferior to her.

'You're making a big mistake, Jonas.'

The loathing he felt overflowed.

'One more word and swear I'll make sure you . . .'

He broke off and regretted the words the instant he said them. He shouldn't be rash, shouldn't reveal to people who had no business knowing, that he was the one who had the power now. Then it might be used against him.

He hung up, stood still for a moment to catch his breath. He didn't manage to collect himself enough to go back to the wardrobe until he had pulled on the light-blue cardigan again and laid down on the bed for a while. It took him a very long time to obliterate the thoughts of that unwelcome conversation.

He got to the meeting place in good time, a half hour earlier than they had agreed. He wanted to have a complete overview, be prepared, see Henrik coming and be the one to choose how and when he would make the first move to contact him. He wondered whether Henrik would come alone or bring the whore with him; it probably didn't make any difference, but he would prefer to meet him alone. Their boat wouldn't be going until a quarter past ten. With his own ears he had heard them mention the departure time during the conversation in the pizzeria.

It was a simple matter to vanish in the crowd of people in the bowels of the terminal. He sat down on a bench next to a bunch of middle-aged, hungover Finns in jogging suits, where he could see the main entrance. And then at five to nine Henrik appeared, alone. Just inside the doors he stopped, put down a well-packed bag on the floor, and looked around. Jonas bided his time, wanting to let him wait for a while. Watched him look at his watch over and over, turning and twisting in all directions and closely studying all the men passing by.

Jonas closed his eyes and took a deep breath in the dark, resting a moment in the calm that filled him. Knowing for the first time what awaited him. That the future would be his reward for all his struggles up to this day. That the fear could not reach him any more. The feeling was as unfamiliar as it was welcome, so utterly liberating, an all-encompassing grace.

Then he got up and started walking towards his enemy.

He stopped a metre from him but said nothing, let him keep wondering. At last it was the other man who broke the silence.