Pernilla slept in his bed while he wrapped himself in blankets on the bench in the
kitchen. He woke with a crick in his neck and aching muscles. Pernilla was eager to
get going, so he made breakfast and went with her to the station. They had a little
time, so they bought coffee at the mini-mart and sat down on a bench at the end of
the platform, chatting about all sorts of things. Until she said: “You don’t like the
idea that I’m going to Skellefteå, do you?”
He was non-plussed.
“It’s not dangerous. But you’re not a Christian, are you?”
“Well, I’m not a good Christian, at any rate.”
“You don’t believe in God?”
“No, I don’t believe in God, but I respect the fact that you do. Everyone has to have
something to believe in.”
When her train arrived, they gave each other a long hug until Pernilla had to get on
board. With one foot on the step, she turned.
“Pappa, I’m not going to proselytise. It doesn’t matter to me what you believe, and
I’ll always love you. But I think you should continue your Bible studies.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I saw the quotes you had on the wall,” she said. “But why so gloomy and neurotic?
Kisses. See you later.”
She waved and was gone. He stood on the platform, baffled, watching the train
pull away. Not until it vanished around the bend did the meaning sink in.
Mikael hurried out of the station. It would be almost an hour before the next bus
left. He was too much on edge to wait that long. He ran to the taxi stand and found
Hussein with the Norrland accent.
Ten minutes later he was in his office. He had taped the note above his desk.