Black Ice by Ian Giles

Author:Ian Giles [Giles, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penzler Publishers
Published: 2021-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

MIDSUMMER LUNCH WAS served in her parents’ garden with friends and family invited. After plates had been cleared of herring and new potatoes, and beers and schnapps drained, they cycled in a pack to Fridhem where the traditional celebrations were being held. There was dancing around the maypole, childish games, and fishing for the little ones.

The rather large party had spread out their blankets on the edge of the site, right beside a copse of trees. Late in the afternoon, just before they were due to cycle home again and prepare the evening barbecue, Erik wandered off into the woods with a couple of the older children. Sebastian and Fredrika were both nine years old, and they promised to keep an eye on Erik.

They returned twenty minutes later, each one of them carrying a bouquet of flowers assembled with childlike artlessness. Large, sprouting weeds drowning out the flowers that ought to have been the gems in each bouquet. Nevertheless, there were seven different kinds of flowers to place under their pillows on Midsummer’s night, just as the tradition dictated. The purpose of this was to ensure that one’s dreams provided a premonition of one’s future life partner—something that seemed pretty far-fetched for the three-year-old and nine-year-olds alike. A distant prospect, at any rate. But the kids were exhilarated, and that was the main thing.

Like the other adults, Sandra showed only a passing interest in the children’s bouquets. She barely looked at them, wrapped up as she was in a conversation with one of her cousins and his wife. It was only a few minutes later when they began to prepare to leave and packed up their picnic baskets that she actually saw Erik’s bouquet. Among the thistles, chicory, and dandelions with long roots, there were also a white lily and a black calla lily hiding.

She quickly got up and scanned the thinning crowd, looking towards the woods. Nowhere was there anyone who might be Hallin, and in among the trees there wasn’t a soul to be seen. She swept her gaze across the meadow and its surroundings once more, but if he was there he was staying well concealed. He had presumably slunk away as soon as he had completed his task.

But what sort of nonsense was this—a grown man behaving like some kind of bloody psychopath in a horror movie? It must have been by chance—a lucky coincidence—that Erik had ended up being drawn to one side, and while picking flowers at that. But if it hadn’t happened today then it would probably have happened some other day, by some other means.

Sandra wasn’t afraid; she was angry. But she kept her calm, firmly determined to keep her parents and everyone else out of this. Seemingly unaffected, she crouched in front of Erik and spoke to him in a kind voice.

“Aren’t these lovely flowers that you’ve picked, sweetheart? Where did you find them?”

“In the woods over there,” Erik said, pointing.

“Including these ones?” Sandra asked, prodding the clearly shop-bought flowers in the bouquet.

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