Chapter 19

I switched on the torch and rested it on one of the other bags, the beam directed away from Petter. Then I found a bottle of water and helped him to sit up. I moved around behind him so he could lean back against my chest. "Here. You'd better have some of this." I passed him the water, and he drank half of it. I checked the bag I had found it in for food and discovered a packet of Oreo cookies. "Must be for the kids," I muttered.

"What is it?" Petter asked me.

"Oreo cookies."

"They're for me."

"You like that shit?" I passed them to him, and he tore open the end of the packet.

"Yes, don't you?"

"No."

"More for me." He bit into one. I stayed silent while he ate four cookies and put the pack down.

"How are you feeling?" I asked then.

He rolled his head back against my shoulder. "How do you think I feel?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ventured.

"No."

I shifted around a little, so I was sitting more to the side of him and could see his face. He avoided my eyes. "Do you want to just rest? We'll be in here a while."

"Where are we going? You and Monica were talking about it, but I wasn't really listening."

"Oslo for the moment. It's about six hours. I'll take over the driving when we get halfway. Monica wanted to drive with the kids up front."

"Right." He didn't say anything more, but he stayed still, resting against me. I assumed he had fallen asleep, as he didn't move for the next couple of hours. My legs cramped up and the weight of him against me made my shoulder ache, but I didn't move a muscle. Then the van stopped, and a minute later, Monica opened the door. It was dusk, and I could see a line of headlights moving along the road a little distance away.

"I stopped for fuel," she said. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, um, bathroom," I said.

Petter lifted his head and blinked. "Where are we?"

"Middle of nowhere." Monica smiled. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah. I can probably walk a bit if you help me."

"Right." We climbed slowly out of the van, and I gripped Petter's arm tightly to make sure he didn't fall down. He swayed and stumbled like he was drunk. We made it to the building and went to the bathroom, while Monica filled up the van with fuel. Then she woke the children, who had fallen asleep in the front seat, and took them to the bathroom. I helped Petter up into the front of the van and got behind the wheel. When the others returned, Monica put the kids in the back, passed some more of the water and cookies to Petter, and climbed into the back herself.

I turned the van onto the road and switched on the radio to find some news. There was a report that Petter had escaped from his cell, assisted by me and another "as yet unknown" man. The police obviously fed that line to the press to cover up the fact that their own infiltrator was involved. There would have been CCTV. Police were tracking a vehicle presumed to have been used in the getaway.

"They haven't caught up to Adam yet," I said.

"He was a getaway driver in a previous life." Petter gave me a wry smile and turned away to look out of the window. He didn't say anything more and not long after, I could see he had fallen asleep again.

I didn't stop until I found a hotel in Oslo, more than four hours later. Monica had my number, and I knew she'd call me if she needed me to stop sooner. The hotel I found was similar to the one I'd stayed in with Petter in Uppsala—huge and impersonal. It was unlikely they'd notice us.

Monica checked us all in with fake passports, while Petter and I waited out of sight of the concierge in case they'd seen our faces on the news. Fifteen minutes later, we were all in a large suite. Two connected bedrooms were attached to a bathroom, with a third room on the other side of the bathroom. I took this room and let Petter and his family have the two connected rooms, much as I didn't want to leave him. His kids needed to see him, and they had to decide together on what they wanted to do, and where they would go. I was just along for the ride for the time being if I was wanted.

I took a shower, changed into a clean shirt and trousers, and sat on the bed watching the news. Adam had now been apprehended and was confused as to why he'd been pulled over. He was using his boss's truck to collect motorcycle parts, which the police found a large collection of in the rear of the truck. Adam was able to produce receipts for them too, and they had to let him go. Both Petter and I were pictured, and the public were asked to report our whereabouts if we were spotted, but that no one should approach us. Hopefully only Swedish news was reporting on it so far.

A little later I received a text message from Christian, telling me he had got the information from my computer with the help of Blanka. Majmun would be going away for a very long time.

Eventually, I slept a little. It was maybe five in the morning when I heard a light tap on the bathroom door from the inside. I opened it to find Monica there, tense and anxious.

"What's wrong?" Instantly I was wide awake. "Is Petter okay?"

"No, he's not." She sighed. "Physically, yes. Or he will be soon enough. Mentally, he's a mess. He's been up most of the night. He slept a little, had some kind of nightmare, and sort of panicked. The kids are worried to death because he doesn't want to see them. I don't know what to do. Stupid, huh? I've been with him seventeen years, and I don't know what to do. He won't talk." She paused and cleared her throat. "You love him, right? You said—"

"Yes, I do," I said firmly. "You don't mind?"

"Of course I don't mind. He's gay. I always hoped he would find someone; I just didn't expect it to be a Mimica. I love him, too, but I've never been in love with him. He's not my type at all."

I laughed a little, surprised she was talking to me like this, and sounding friendly with it.

"You must wonder how we managed to have kids together," she added with a smile. "I suppose we both just closed our eyes and imagined Mr Tall Dark and Handsome."

I laughed more. "Tall dark and handsome?"

"Yes, we like the same type of guys. But anyway. He's not doing too good right now."

"Shall I try talking to him?"

"Be my guest." She led me through the other bathroom door and disappeared into the second bedroom where presumably Per and Oscar were. She closed the door behind her, leaving me with Petter. He was lying on the bed on his side, in the tee shirt, sweatpants, and hoodie we had put on him.

I sat down and touched his arm. "Hey. You okay?"

"Fine."

"No, you're not. Monica's worried about you. So are your kids."

"Leave me alone."

I wasn't any good at this sort of thing. I'd had no practise. One time Markus had been upset about something and asked me to leave him alone, so I left him and didn't talk to him for a week. He admitted later he'd wanted me to just be with him, offer comfort, and encourage him to talk about it. Would that be the same for Petter? Should I try to get him to him talk? Or just sit in silence with him.

I stroked his back. "Tell me what happened. Why did you do this?" I asked softly.

He sat up suddenly and swung his legs off the side of the bed half turning away from me. I waited for him to tell me to fuck off, but he stayed silent, eyes down, breathing heavily. Eventually, he spoke.