But then she met Markus Skog. Liv-Hege had fallen asleep in someone’s car and woken up in Oslo. Her mate was picking up a packet of something. Speed. Whatever. And there he was, in a flat in Grønland. Liv-Hege had fallen head over heels in love, and they became an item. Markus Skog had introduced her to heroin, so now she had two loves. Heroin was the perfect drug for her. Much better than glue, with all its waste products and impurities. Glue made her zone out, true, but also sick and nauseous most of the time. Heroin was completely different. Markus Skog had injected her for the first time on a summer’s day down by the River Aker, and Liv-Hege had barely believed such bliss was possible. It was as if her body had been in tension her whole life and, finally, it could relax. All the sharp barbs and her piercing misery turned into a huge smile. One big, beaming, lovely smile with pink clouds of eternal beauty. People were good. The world was fantastic. For ever. Since that day, they had never been apart. A perfect, heavenly triangle. Markus, her and heroin. They had moved about, living here, there and everywhere. Markus knew a lot of people. And when Markus started dealing, they got to know even more. Dealers were the celebrities of the underworld, always surrounded by an entourage of famous and obscure faces, and even though he had only been a street dealer, they had done well. One autumn they had lived in a campervan up at Tryvann. The party atmosphere had been pretty good – a lot of cocaine and speed, but not enough heroin; Liv-Hege had missed it. It would be good to get some. Getting properly high again. Fortunately, the party crew withdrew to the city centre over time. And then there were just the three of them left in the campervan. Markus, her and the lovely liquid gold which would soon be going into her veins.
‘Please can you hook me up?’
Liv-Hege looked beseechingly at Markus Skog, who was pacing up and down inside the campervan.
He had just snorted two lines of speed and cocaine mixed together and was quite manic. He was talking to himself constantly, and his eyes were the size of saucers.
‘Markus?’ she pleaded with him again. ‘Hook me up, will you?’
Liv-Hege pulled up the sleeve of her jumper and rested her arm on the small grey plastic table.
‘Dammit, Liv-Hege, do it yourself. Why do I have to do everything for you?’ Markus Skog grunted as he cut more lines on the table.
‘But I like it when you do it,’ Live-Hege said. ‘Please?’
‘You’re real nag, did you know that? I don’t know why I put up with your bony arse. Tell me, Liv-Hege, why do I? It’s not as if you contribute anything, is it?’
Liv-Hege stared shamefully at the floor and tightened the rubber tube around her arm herself. Markus bent down and snorted both lines, one in each nostril.
‘Ah, here we go, that’s it. That’s right, now we’re going places.’
He laughed out loud to himself and slammed his fist into the wall. Liv-Hege jolted, almost missing the vein with the needle, but she got it in at last. The warmth started flooding through her body. Finally. Pink clouds. Endless beaches.
She had just dropped the needle on to the floor when there was a knock on the door of the campervan.
‘Hello?’
A woman’s voice.
‘What the hell?’ Markus said.
He tried looking through the curtain, but had forgotten that they had cardboard for windows and that he couldn’t see out of the filthy campervan.
‘Police.’
A male voice this time.
‘Shit,’ Markus said, starting to clear the table of drugs. ‘Liv-Hege? Help me, will you?!’
But Liv-Hege saw no reason to do anything at all. She had a big smile on her face and was heading for a place where all was well. Just exactly how it happened, Live-Hege couldn’t remember, but suddenly a female police officer was inside the campervan.
‘Mia Krüger, Violent Crimes Section. We’re looking for this girl. Have you seen her?’
‘Ah, that’s Pia.’ Liv-Hege smiled when she saw the picture.
‘Shut your mouth,’ Markus yelled at her.
‘But it is Pia, isn’t it, Markus? Can’t you see?’
‘I said shut your mouth,’ Markus Skog screamed again.
‘Markus?’ the policewoman suddenly said. ‘Markus Skog?’
‘What’s going on, Mia?’
It was the male police officer outside.
‘Mia Krüger, now who would have thought it?’ Markus grinned. ‘It’s been a long time.’
The police officer called Mia looked as if she had seen a ghost.
‘How’s your sister?’ Markus laughed. The two last lines had kicked in now; his mouth was one big, gaping hole of teeth and laughter.
‘Oh no, that’s right, she kicked the bucket, yeah? Yes, she did, couldn’t handle the pressure, ha-ha. I’ve seen it happen so many times, good girls from nice families. Can’t take the heat, they’ve had it too easy.’
Liv-Hege hadn’t seen the police officer pull out a gun, but it was there now, in the small, dirty campervan. Liv-Hege herself had mentally left the campervan. She was sitting on a mountaintop, watching from a distance. It was nice and warm. The wind was blowing briskly through her hair.
In the room far away, the one she had left, Markus had picked up a syringe on the table. He was frothing around the mouth now. He waved the syringe at the police officer and laughed maniacally.
‘Want to try it, Mia? Eh, are you sure you don’t want a taste? Your sister couldn’t get enough of it. Spineless cunt, poor little Sigrid, ha-ha.’
From the lovely mountaintop where she was sitting, Liv-Hege had a clear view of what happened next. It was almost like being in the cinema. Markus hawked up a gob and spat at the policewoman while at the same time trying to stab her with the syringe. The policewoman jumped back and a bang sounded. The mountaintop turned into a volcano now; there was rumbling underneath her. The policewoman fired her weapon twice. Markus Skog was flung back across the room and lay bleeding on the floor.
Liv-Hege Nylund woke up two weeks later and found herself suffering serious withdrawal symptoms in a room she didn’t recognize. Karen was sitting next to her, and for a whole week she never left her side. They had strapped Liv-Hege to the bed and she had never experienced anything so horrendous. She was in hell. It was as if every cell in her body was wide awake and screaming in hell. A billion hangovers at the same time; she howled as if the devil himself had taken residence in her; she lay strapped to the bed in the white room until the drug had left her system. All the time with Karen by her side. Her sister had watched her, fed her, held her hand, calmed her down. She had been gone, but now she was back.
Finally, she was allowed out of bed. She could to go to the lavatory on her own, eat her own food at the table. Karen never left her alone. Then she was allowed out into the garden. To sit on the grass. Gaze at the sun. Look at the trees. Karen was smiling now; she hadn’t seen Karen smile during the whole of her detox, but now her sister was happy.
What Karen Nylund didn’t know was that Liv-Hege had no intention of staying alive. She had lost everything. Her two loves. Markus Skog and heroin. What could this world offer her? Nothing.