Jerry kept quiet during the meal. The twins didn’t say much either. Everybody ate their eggs and sat there in a world of their own.
‘Did you go out today?’ Per asked.
Nilla nodded slowly. She looked pale and tired, and her voice was quiet. ‘We went down to the quarry. And Jesper found a skeleton.’
But Jesper shook his head. ‘It was only a little piece of bone... I think it was part of a finger.’
‘A finger?’ said Per, looking at him. ‘A human finger?’
‘I think so.’
‘Where did you find it?’
‘At the bottom of a pile of stones. It’s in my room.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be part of some animal, we can have a look at it later,’ said Per, peeling an egg. ‘But you shouldn’t really pick up bits of bone you find on the ground, there could be germs and—’
But Jesper didn’t seem to be listening; he was staring past Per, his eyes full of fear. ‘Dad!’ he shouted. ‘Nilla!’
Per looked to his right and saw that Nilla had dropped her egg and was leaning over the table beside him; her head was drooping and she was about to topple sideways.
There were red splashes of blood on the tablecloth. When she coughed, more appeared.
Per moved fast. ‘Nilla!’ He grabbed her just before she fell.
She looked at him, but her eyelids were heavy. ‘What? What is it?’ she said, as if she were talking in her sleep. ‘Shall I...’
Then she fell silent and slumped against him.
Per held her tightly. ‘It’s OK,’ he said quietly. ‘Everything’s OK.’
But it wasn’t fine — his daughter’s face was suddenly bright red. Per could feel the blood pulsing in her arm, and suddenly there was no strength in her thin body, it was completely limp. She had fainted.
The meal had come to a complete standstill. Jerry was sitting on the opposite side of the table with an egg in his hand, staring blankly at the red drops on the table. Jesper was on his feet, gazing wide-eyed at his sister.
Per carried Nilla over to the sofa. When he had laid her down on her side, she coughed and opened her eyes.
‘I’m cold,’ she said.
Per remembered the doctor in Kalmar saying that the new medication could leave her open to infection, and he looked over at Jesper. ‘Nilla will be fine,’ he said. ‘But I need to take her back to hospital. Will you be OK here with Granddad?’
Jesper nodded.
‘And can you ring Mum?’
The hospital was silent and empty on Easter Saturday, but of course the emergency department was open. Nilla was wheeled off down the corridor on a trolley. All Per could do was go up to her old ward and wait.
He sat down on a chair in the corridor; he was used to waiting, after all. He waited and waited.
After almost an hour, the door opened and Marika and her new husband came in. Georg was tanned and was wearing a dark suit, just as he had been on the two previous occasions when Per had met him.
‘We’ve come to see the doctor,’ said Marika.
Per didn’t recognize the doctor who was on duty this evening. His name was Stenhammar and he was younger than Nilla’s previous doctor, but his expression was serious as he took them into his office and sat down at the desk.
‘Well, I have good news and bad news.’
Nobody said anything, so the doctor went on: ‘The good news is that we’ve managed to bring down her temperature; Pernilla will be coming back from intensive care shortly.’
‘Can we take her home this evening?’ said Marika, in spite of the fact that this was Per’s weekend.
Dr Stenhammar shook his head. ‘That’s the bad news,’ he said. ‘Pernilla won’t be coming home... she needs to stay here.’
‘How long for?’ asked Marika.
The doctor didn’t speak for a few seconds. Then he began to elaborate at length on the thorough examination they had done, on Nilla’s test results, and on what they had found. He talked and talked, and he kept using long words.
‘Epithelioid... what was it again?’ said Per.
‘The usual abbreviation is EHE,’ said Dr Stenhammar, ‘and it’s very rare, an extremely uncommon type of cancer that usually affects the soft tissues. I know it’s no consolation to you, but as a doctor I—’
‘What does this mean for Nilla?’ Marika interrupted.
The doctor started to speak again. Afterwards Per could remember only two words: malignant tumour.
‘... so it’s best if she stays here until the surgery,’ said Stenhammar, linking his hands on the desk.
Surgery. Per could feel the floor swaying beneath his feet.
‘So you’re going to operate?’
The doctor nodded. ‘We have to, radiotherapy alone won’t be enough, unfortunately... We’re on the way to a vital indication.’
Per didn’t ask what the final words meant, but they didn’t sound good.
‘When?’ Marika asked quietly.
‘Soon, very soon.’ The doctor paused. ‘And I’m afraid it’s not a straightforward operation.’
‘What are the odds on her recovery?’ asked Per. A terrible question — he wanted to take it back. But Dr Stenhammar merely shook his head.
‘We don’t bet in here.’
They walked out into the corridor in silence. Georg went to get some coffee. Per had nothing to say to his ex-wife, but Marika suddenly looked around.
‘Where’s Jesper?’
‘Back at the cottage.’
‘Alone?’
‘No, my father’s with him.’
‘Jerry?’
Marika had raised her voice in the empty corridor. Per lowered his: ‘Gerhard, yes. He came to us a few days ago...’
‘Why?’
‘He’s sick,’ said Per. ‘He’s had a—’
‘He always has been, hasn’t he?’
‘... and he needed some help,’ Per went on. ‘But I’ll be taking him home soon.’
‘Well, don’t bring him here,’ Marika snapped. ‘I don’t want to risk meeting that dirty old sod ever again.’
‘Dirty old sod? Well, he might be,’ Per said quietly, ‘but as far as I recall you were very curious about Jerry and his activities when we met. You thought it was exciting, or so you said.’
‘I thought you were exciting at the time,’ said Marika. ‘I soon got over that as well.’
‘Good,’ said Per. ‘That’s one problem less.’
‘It’s not me who has a problem with you, Per. It’s you who has a problem with me.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I’m just going to say goodbye to Nilla.’
Marika stayed in the corridor while Per went in to see Nilla before setting off for home. The room was quiet. She was lying in bed beneath a white sheet, and of course the drip was back in her arm. He bent down and pressed his cheek against hers. ‘Hello, you.’
‘Hi.’
She was pale now, her chest trembling with shallow breaths.
‘How are you doing? How do your lungs feel?’
‘Not too bad...’
‘You’re looking good.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t find my black stone, Dad.’
‘What black stone?’
‘My piece of lava from Iceland... Mum bought it, it’s my lucky stone. It was in my room. I thought I put it in my pocket, but it’s not there now.’
Per remembered; it was a smooth, coal-black stone, and Nilla had let him hold it; it fitted perfectly into his palm.
‘I’m sure it’s in the house somewhere,’ he said. ‘I’ll find it.’
When he got back to the cottage half an hour later, Jerry and Jesper had cleared away the food and removed the stained cloth. But the dishes were piled up in the kitchen, and Per had to deal with them.
His father and son were sitting on the sofa in the living room watching some American sitcom. Jerry seemed captivated, but Jesper turned his head as his father walked in.