The Owl Always Hunts at Night: (Munch and Krüger Book 2) by Samuel Bjork

Author:Samuel Bjork [Bjork, Samuel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473508644
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2017-04-19T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39

Helene Eriksen turned off the ignition, got out of her car and lit a cigarette. She zipped her quilted jacket right up to her neck. A meeting in a deserted road, under the cover of darkness, this late at night? She shouldn’t be doing this. She took a deep drag on her cigarette, watched the red tip light up her fingers and realized that she was shivering. From cold, possibly – October had arrived and brought with it a darkness normally associated with November or December – but that was not the only reason. She pulled down her sleeves and continued to peer down the empty road after the headlights she knew would soon appear.

‘Show me.’

Tongue out.

‘Good girl. Next.’

It was more than thirty years ago, and still it had not lost its power over her. She continued to wake up in the middle of the night, sheets drenched in sweat from the nightmare where she was back sleeping on the old sofa again, scared of where her brother had been, scared of the consequences. The fear of being punished by the women, if she said the wrong thing. Thought the wrong thoughts. She had been seven years old then, she was over forty now, yet it had never left her.

‘It’s not your fault.’

They were the first words he had said to her, the psychologist. She had been eleven years old, twelve maybe, she could not remember, only that his room had smelt strange, and she had struggled to speak.

‘It’s not your fault, Helene. I want you to begin with that. This is what you need to tell yourself: it was not your fault. Can you do this for me? Are you able to start with that?’

Helene Eriksen climbed on to the bonnet, pulled up her legs and sat in the darkness, her eyes taking in the landscape around her. The shadows of the trees started to take on strange shapes. She tossed aside the half-finished cigarette and got back behind the wheel. It was safer inside. She stuck the key in the ignition and turned it ninety degrees so that she could switch on the heater and the radio.

‘Show me.’

Tongue out.

‘Good boy. Next.’

She pressed a few buttons and found a radio station she liked, music to distract her mind. She turned up the sound and sat drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, while she peered out through the windscreen for the lights that would soon show up.

‘Do you think you can manage that, Helene?’

Their hair had been bleached. They had all worn the same clothes. Done everything the women told them. Always the same, day in and day out. School, yoga, housework, homework, pills, school, yoga, housework, homework, pills. Thirty years ago. How long would it retain its hold over her?

‘I know it’s difficult, but I’m here to help you.’

Helene Eriksen took out the packet from her pocket and lit another cigarette, although she did not really want one, rolled down the window so the smoke could escape, but closed it quickly; way too cold outside.

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