talked. She spoke rapidly because she was so worried.
"It's not good to be on your own with a child," she said, bustling around the kitchen but not actually doing anything. "Children shouldn't become your whole life, it's too much for them to bear. I can't begin to imagine what Helga's going to do the day Ida becomes a teenager and goes out all the time." She blinked, confused by her own leap of thought.
"Can you tell me why Helga got divorced?" Sejer asked.
Ruth looked at him wide-eyed. "Why do you want to know about that?" she asked, baffled.
He smiled quickly. "I don't really know myself. But I ask all sorts of questions."
He said it so simply, his eyes downcast as if he was genuinely tormented by this. It made her want to help him.
"But surely their divorce has nothing to do with Ida going missing?" She frowned.
Sejer looked at her. "No, we don't think so, either. I'm just being curious. Is it hard to talk about?"
She hesitated. "Well, I don't really know." She placed her hands on the table, as if she wanted to prove to him that they were clean, metaphorically speaking.
"So," he said. "What can you tell me about the breakup between Helga and Anders Joner? You're her sister. You're close, aren't you?"
She nodded without looking at him. "I don't know the whole story," she said evasively, "but I think there was another woman. Anders had a one-night stand and Helga couldn't handle it. She threw him out. Anders is ten years younger than she is," she continued. "And don't get me wrong. He is a good man, not the kind who sleeps around. But it happened this one time, and Helga couldn't deal with it. She's so, well, how shall I put it, so principled. So rigid."
"Did she give you any details?"
Ruth looked away and ended up staring at the valance above the window. "She did. But I don't feel it's for me to tell you. It wouldn't help you, either."
He accepted this and nodded. "Helga says that Ida is very fond of both you and your husband, Sverre?"
Ruth could picture Ida once more, a quick shiny flash of a living, breathing girl, here, in her own kitchen. Then she blinked and the image vanished. "We're used to her coming here." She nodded. "It's so quiet when she's not around. She is the kind of child who attracts a lot of attention. She has several other aunts and uncles, but she never visits them."
"Is there any particular reason why she doesn't see them?" Sejer asked cautiously.
"That's just how it is, I guess. Anders's brothers have never shown any interest in Helga and Ida. They're busy with their own families. Or perhaps they just don't have anything in common. They live a bit farther away than we do."
"Do you work?" he wanted to know.
"I do a few hours' substitute teaching at Glassverket school," she said. "When someone's ill and so on. Otherwise I'm at home."
"Your daughter, Marion, how old is she?"
"Twelve," Ruth said. "She's in seventh grade. She spends a lot of time with Ida. This is very difficult for her; I don't know what to tell her. But she reads the papers and watches the news. It's impossible to keep anything from her."
"You have nothing to keep from her," he said. "We don't know what's happened."
Again she was puzzled by the neutral way in which he expressed himself, since she was convinced that Ida was dead. And not only dead, but killed in some horrific way. The worst one of all, in unimaginable pain and fear.
"How about your son, Tom Erik?" he asked.
When he mentioned her son, she frowned. "Well, what about him?" she said.
"How is he handling it?"
She shook her head forlornly. "Badly," she admitted. "He never really talks about his feelings. At least Marion and I are trying. Tomme took part in the search yesterday and said it was awful. I must admit that I often think of him as a rather selfish boy. He cares mostly about himself. The other day he dented his car." She smiled. "His reaction was out of all proportion. He's only had it for three weeks," she added. "And I stood there listening
"It's not good to be on your own with a child," she said, bustling around the kitchen but not actually doing anything. "Children shouldn't become your whole life, it's too much for them to bear. I can't begin to imagine what Helga's going to do the day Ida becomes a teenager and goes out all the time." She blinked, confused by her own leap of thought.
"Can you tell me why Helga got divorced?" Sejer asked.
Ruth looked at him wide-eyed. "Why do you want to know about that?" she asked, baffled.
He smiled quickly. "I don't really know myself. But I ask all sorts of questions."
He said it so simply, his eyes downcast as if he was genuinely tormented by this. It made her want to help him.
"But surely their divorce has nothing to do with Ida going missing?" She frowned.
Sejer looked at her. "No, we don't think so, either. I'm just being curious. Is it hard to talk about?"
She hesitated. "Well, I don't really know." She placed her hands on the table, as if she wanted to prove to him that they were clean, metaphorically speaking.
"So," he said. "What can you tell me about the breakup between Helga and Anders Joner? You're her sister. You're close, aren't you?"
She nodded without looking at him. "I don't know the whole story," she said evasively, "but I think there was another woman. Anders had a one-night stand and Helga couldn't handle it. She threw him out. Anders is ten years younger than she is," she continued. "And don't get me wrong. He is a good man, not the kind who sleeps around. But it happened this one time, and Helga couldn't deal with it. She's so, well, how shall I put it, so principled. So rigid."
"Did she give you any details?"
Ruth looked away and ended up staring at the valance above the window. "She did. But I don't feel it's for me to tell you. It wouldn't help you, either."
He accepted this and nodded. "Helga says that Ida is very fond of both you and your husband, Sverre?"
Ruth could picture Ida once more, a quick shiny flash of a living, breathing girl, here, in her own kitchen. Then she blinked and the image vanished. "We're used to her coming here." She nodded. "It's so quiet when she's not around. She is the kind of child who attracts a lot of attention. She has several other aunts and uncles, but she never visits them."
"Is there any particular reason why she doesn't see them?" Sejer asked cautiously.
"That's just how it is, I guess. Anders's brothers have never shown any interest in Helga and Ida. They're busy with their own families. Or perhaps they just don't have anything in common. They live a bit farther away than we do."
"Do you work?" he wanted to know.
"I do a few hours' substitute teaching at Glassverket school," she said. "When someone's ill and so on. Otherwise I'm at home."
"Your daughter, Marion, how old is she?"
"Twelve," Ruth said. "She's in seventh grade. She spends a lot of time with Ida. This is very difficult for her; I don't know what to tell her. But she reads the papers and watches the news. It's impossible to keep anything from her."
"You have nothing to keep from her," he said. "We don't know what's happened."
Again she was puzzled by the neutral way in which he expressed himself, since she was convinced that Ida was dead. And not only dead, but killed in some horrific way. The worst one of all, in unimaginable pain and fear.
"How about your son, Tom Erik?" he asked.
When he mentioned her son, she frowned. "Well, what about him?" she said.
"How is he handling it?"
She shook her head forlornly. "Badly," she admitted. "He never really talks about his feelings. At least Marion and I are trying. Tomme took part in the search yesterday and said it was awful. I must admit that I often think of him as a rather selfish boy. He cares mostly about himself. The other day he dented his car." She smiled. "His reaction was out of all proportion. He's only had it for three weeks," she added. "And I stood there listening
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