Read Online The Other Son by Alexander Söderberg - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexander Söderberg
Ads: Link
understand,” Sophie said.
They could hear laughter from Daphne and one of the boys out in the workshop.
“Who did it? Who killed Eduardo?”
“I don’t know.” Lying came automatically now.
Keys in the lock of the front door, a door opening and closing.
Thierry appeared in the living room. He always had the same cheerful expression on his face. He was holding a bag of groceries in each hand.
“Hi,” he said. “Daphne and the boys?”
“In the garage,” Sophie said.
He looked at the two women, and perhaps he noticed the somber mood.
“Come with me,” he said. “Help me prepare dinner.”
—
The three of them stood in the kitchen. There was a lot of food, all of it vegetarian. Thierry gave them instructions on how to prepare it all. Halfway through the chopping and slicing Daphne and the boys came back, with Hasani following behind them. The boys were happier, and they sat down at the kitchen table together and were given something to drink and crayons and paper to draw on.
Daphne and Thierry. Smugglers in Hector’s organization who used the cover of a shop in Stockholm that sold ethnic artifacts. They were currently a dormant resource now that everything had ground to a halt in Hector’s absence. They seemed to be enjoying it, living the quiet life in the suburbs for a while.
Daphne kissed Thierry on the cheek and helped a bit with the food but mostly stood close to Thierry making small talk. They were always like that. Sophie watched them discreetly. They appeared to be naturally in love, whatever that meant.
Everyone ate dinner together at the kitchen table in silence. It wasn’t oppressive, the silence among them, just no one felt any need to talk. Hasani picked at his vegetables, and the boys noted his reluctance. When he tentatively asked if there was any meat, the atmosphere lightened and they started laughing. Angela got up and fried a piece of steak for Hasani. A quiet, hesitant conversation developed, and soon they were all chatting. Everyone but Sophie. She kept her distance, reluctant to get too close.
But the atmosphere around the table affected her nonetheless, and she couldn’t help seeing the boys’ temporary happiness, Angela’s smile, Daphne and Thierry’s warmth, and Hasani and his fondness for meat. They were all individuals who wanted nothing more from that moment than to feel a bit of human camaraderie.
But she knew something they didn’t know: she knew who had killed the boys’ father. She also knew that she couldn’t tell anyone, because the consequences would be uncontrollable. She saw it all the time: Aron’s progress, the risk-taking, the proximity of violence…And that was how everything would develop. Aron would fight to the last. Leszek would follow him. That was just the way it was. Predetermined, decided by fate…
Andres and Fabien were laughing so hard now that they almost spat their food out.
Sophie looked at the boys, unaffected by their laughter. Just as she was considering giving up everything, something began to grow in her mind. The germ of an idea. The last of all ideas, the one that really shouldn’t be there. The people around the table laughed, and the thought inside her pleaded and begged to be allowed to live, if only for a short while.
Sophie ate, trying to ignore the idea. But it was impossible. The idea grew too strong, taking clearer shape, assuming a face.
Ralph Hanke’s.
Lothar Tiedemann was rinsing vegetables under the kitchen tap. His mother, Franka, was working at the kitchen table. She usually sat there, counting and sorting. She was clever and smart, and he felt a natural pride in her.
He turned the tap off, then began to chop the vegetables for a salad. The window to the courtyard was open. Down below, children were playing football, a neighbor was beating one of her carpets, and over on the playground there was a moped constantly revving its engine in a sand pit.
They spent a lot of time together, Lothar and Franka.
They could hear laughter from Daphne and one of the boys out in the workshop.
“Who did it? Who killed Eduardo?”
“I don’t know.” Lying came automatically now.
Keys in the lock of the front door, a door opening and closing.
Thierry appeared in the living room. He always had the same cheerful expression on his face. He was holding a bag of groceries in each hand.
“Hi,” he said. “Daphne and the boys?”
“In the garage,” Sophie said.
He looked at the two women, and perhaps he noticed the somber mood.
“Come with me,” he said. “Help me prepare dinner.”
—
The three of them stood in the kitchen. There was a lot of food, all of it vegetarian. Thierry gave them instructions on how to prepare it all. Halfway through the chopping and slicing Daphne and the boys came back, with Hasani following behind them. The boys were happier, and they sat down at the kitchen table together and were given something to drink and crayons and paper to draw on.
Daphne and Thierry. Smugglers in Hector’s organization who used the cover of a shop in Stockholm that sold ethnic artifacts. They were currently a dormant resource now that everything had ground to a halt in Hector’s absence. They seemed to be enjoying it, living the quiet life in the suburbs for a while.
Daphne kissed Thierry on the cheek and helped a bit with the food but mostly stood close to Thierry making small talk. They were always like that. Sophie watched them discreetly. They appeared to be naturally in love, whatever that meant.
Everyone ate dinner together at the kitchen table in silence. It wasn’t oppressive, the silence among them, just no one felt any need to talk. Hasani picked at his vegetables, and the boys noted his reluctance. When he tentatively asked if there was any meat, the atmosphere lightened and they started laughing. Angela got up and fried a piece of steak for Hasani. A quiet, hesitant conversation developed, and soon they were all chatting. Everyone but Sophie. She kept her distance, reluctant to get too close.
But the atmosphere around the table affected her nonetheless, and she couldn’t help seeing the boys’ temporary happiness, Angela’s smile, Daphne and Thierry’s warmth, and Hasani and his fondness for meat. They were all individuals who wanted nothing more from that moment than to feel a bit of human camaraderie.
But she knew something they didn’t know: she knew who had killed the boys’ father. She also knew that she couldn’t tell anyone, because the consequences would be uncontrollable. She saw it all the time: Aron’s progress, the risk-taking, the proximity of violence…And that was how everything would develop. Aron would fight to the last. Leszek would follow him. That was just the way it was. Predetermined, decided by fate…
Andres and Fabien were laughing so hard now that they almost spat their food out.
Sophie looked at the boys, unaffected by their laughter. Just as she was considering giving up everything, something began to grow in her mind. The germ of an idea. The last of all ideas, the one that really shouldn’t be there. The people around the table laughed, and the thought inside her pleaded and begged to be allowed to live, if only for a short while.
Sophie ate, trying to ignore the idea. But it was impossible. The idea grew too strong, taking clearer shape, assuming a face.
Ralph Hanke’s.
Lothar Tiedemann was rinsing vegetables under the kitchen tap. His mother, Franka, was working at the kitchen table. She usually sat there, counting and sorting. She was clever and smart, and he felt a natural pride in her.
He turned the tap off, then began to chop the vegetables for a salad. The window to the courtyard was open. Down below, children were playing football, a neighbor was beating one of her carpets, and over on the playground there was a moped constantly revving its engine in a sand pit.
They spent a lot of time together, Lothar and Franka.
Similar Books
