Read Online The Stonecutter by Camilla Läckberg - Free Book Online Page B

hair and blue eyes. He knew girls like that were not for someone like him, but he couldn’t help it. When she offered him her little hand, he’d had to force himself to release it at once, because with each second that her skin touched his, he felt it more difficult to let go. The whole meeting, her presence had tormented him. The hands on the wall clock had crept along, and every minute he’d had to restrain himself from turning round to look at her as she sat so quietly in the corner.
    He’d never seen anything so beautiful. None of the girls he had known could even be mentioned in the same breath. This girl belonged to a whole other world. He sighed and turned on his side, trying to force himself to sleep. The new work-day would begin at five o’clock, just like every other day, and it didn’t care whether he had lain awake all night or not.
    There was a sharp noise, and his eyes popped open. It sounded like a pebble hitting the windowpane, but the noise came and went so quickly that he thought he’d imagined it. He closed his eyes again. But then it came again: there was no doubt about it. Someone was throwing pebbles at his window. Anders sat bolt upright. It must be one of the guys from work, but if his landlady woke up, the stone-thrower would have to answer for it. Anders had lived here peacefully for the past three years, and he didn’t need any trouble.
    Cautiously he unlatched the window and opened it. He lived on the ground floor, but a big lilac bush partially blocked his view. He squinted to see who was standing in the faint moonlight.
    And he couldn’t believe his eyes.

    She hesitated for a long time. She even put on her jacket and then took it off again, twice. But finally Erica made up her mind. There was nothing wrong with offering her support; Charlotte could just tell her if she didn’t want visitors. It felt impossible just to sit at home when she knew that her friend was suffering.
    As she walked, she saw evidence of the storm everywhere. Toppled trees, branches, and other debris lay strewn about, mixed with small piles of red and yellow leaves. But the storm also seemed to have blown away a layer of autumn dirt that had settled over the town. Now the air smelled fresh, and it was as clear as a freshly washed pane of glass.
    Instead of enjoying the walk, though, Maja was shrieking at the top of her lungs in the stroller. Erica walked faster. The baby had decided that she would not lie in the stroller if she was awake, and was protesting loudly. Her screams made Erica’s heart race, and the panic brought out tiny beads of sweat on her brow. Some primitive instinct was telling her to stop the stroller at once and pick up Maja to save her from the wolves, but Erica steeled herself. It was only a few blocks to Charlotte’s mother’s house, and she would be there soon.
    It was odd that a single event could alter so completely the way she looked at the world. Erica had always thought that the houses along the cove below the Sälvik campground stood like a peaceful string of pearls along the road, with a view over the sea and the islands. Now everything looked gloomy, especially the Florin house. At the sight of it she hesitated again, but it seemed foolish to turn round now. They could just ask her to leave if they thought she was coming at an inopportune time. Friendships were tested in times of crisis, and she didn’t want to be one of those people who out of exaggerated caution and perhaps even cowardice avoided friends who were in trouble.
    Puffing, she pushed the stroller up the hill. The Florins’ house was partway up the slope, and she paused for a second at their driveway to catch her breath. Maja’s shrieks had grown deafening, so she hurried to park the stroller and picked her up.
    For several long seconds she stood at the front door with her hand raised and her heart pounding. Finally she gave the wood a sharp rap. There was a doorbell, but sending that shrill sound into the house