Read Online Unwanted by Kristina Ohlsson - Free Book Online

last time, you know,’ was all he said.
    Fredrika gave a little smile.
    ‘But it’s eleven o’clock, Spencer. You certainly weren’t that late, last time we met.’
    For some reason – maybe because she felt guilty, maybe because she was tired – tears came to her eyes.
    ‘Oh, don’t get upset . . .’ began Spencer, seeing the glint of moisture in her eyes.
    ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I . . .’
    ‘You’re tired,’ said Spencer firmly. ‘You’re tired, and you hate your job with the police. And that, my friend, is a really bad combination.’
    Fredrika drank more of her wine.
    ‘I know,’ she said in a low voice, ‘I know.’
    He put a steady arm around her waist.
    ‘Stay at home tomorrow. We’ll both stay here.’
    Fredrika gave an imperceptible sigh.
    ‘No chance,’ she said. ‘I’m working on a new case now. A little girl’s gone missing. That’s why I was so late: we were interviewing the child’s mother and the mother’s new boyfriend all evening. Such a horrible story you can hardly believe it’s true.’
    Spencer pulled her closer. She set down her glass and put both arms around him.
    ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered.
    Saying anything like that was admittedly against the unspoken rules they agreed on, but Fredrika was too exhausted to worry about any agreement just then.
    ‘I’ve missed you, too,’ mumbled Spencer as he kissed the top of her head.
    Fredrika stared into his eyes in astonishment.
    ‘Now there’s a coincidence, eh?’ said Spencer with a crooked smile.
    It was after one before Fredrika and Spencer finally decided to try to get some sleep. As usual, Spencer was able to put the decision into practice with little delay. Fredrika found it much harder.
    The wide double bed stood along one wall of what was really the only proper room in the flat. Apart from the bed, the flat was sparsely furnished with a couple of battered old English armchairs and a beautiful chess table. Over by the little kitchen there were also a small dining table and two chairs.
    The flat had belonged to Spencer’s father, and he had inherited it when his father died, nearly ten years ago now. Since then, Fredrika and her lover had never really met anywhere else. She had still never been to Spencer’s main home, which felt logical. The only times they met somewhere other than the flat were when Fredrika occasionally discreetly accompanied Spencer to some conference abroad. She thought a number of his colleagues must know about their liaison, but quite honestly she couldn’t have cared less. What was more, Spencer’s status among his professorial colleagues was extraordinarily high, so he was never confronted with any direct questions.
    Lying there in Spencer’s arms, Fredrika curled up into a little ball. He was breathing deeply behind her and already fast asleep. She stroked a cautious finger over the hairs on his naked arm. She couldn’t imagine a life without him. Such thoughts were indescribably dangerous, she knew that. Yet she could not banish them. And they always came when the night was at its darkest and she was feeling at her loneliest.
    She shifted carefully until she was lying on her back.
    The visit to Sara Sebastiansson’s had been a strain in every way. Partly because of Sara Sebastiansson herself, of course. The woman was entirely unbalanced. But also because of Peder. He had been mightily pleased when Alex decided Fredrika should not go to see Sara Sebastiansson on her own. Fredrika had seen him straighten up, and his face had broken into a sneering grin.
    ‘ It’s not that I’m questioning your competence ,’ Alex had said.
    Fredrika knew all too well that that was exactly what he was doing. Expectations of her, a young woman with an academic background, were set extremely low. She was assumed to be barely capable of operating the photocopier. She could sense Alex’s irritation whenever she dared put forward or develop a new