CH 6
Saga listened to the vocal from Henrik's private phone, the one he decided to buy for close relatives only.
"I'm late for dinner, traffic. Multiple car accident until the bridge Barbara told me. I'm stuck since I left office. On the phone with Barbara and the team."
Saga texted there was no hurry, she was studying and Astrid was at Maja's with other girls and would eat there.
He replied to have dinner without waiting for him, there was a fresh quiche with ham, cheese and vegetables to heat in the microwave.
When Henrik entered home around nine, he hung the coat, got rid of his shoes with difficulty and sat heavily on the couch, his legs up on the small table.
Since living together, Saga learned to read his body language. Henrik was tired, worried, he had a difficult new case, parents killed in the woods in front of their two children, too shocked to remember something. No traces of the killer, the whole team doing extra shifts to find a solution.
Saga offered him half the quiche, he asked for a glass of water only.
"I called Astrid, she'll be here in less than a hour."
"Good, so I can tell her good night and go to bed."
"Is it so bad?"
He showed her the forensic report, she read it avidly.
"Terrible. They suffered long before dying."
"I have to solve it."
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, giving me a glass of something stronger."
She looked at him with huge eyes and a rigid posture, he gave her the glass smiling.
"More water, please. Don't worry, I'm not going to relapse."
He grabbed Saga's arm and passed his hand up and down.
"You could give me something else to numb my mind for a while, but we haven't time now."
"Technically, we have."
He kissed her palm.
"Things are good now, quick fuck aren't ours anymore, are they?"
"No, they aren't."
"So come here and look at the case again with me."
Saga had already saw a few photos and spent half of the previous night discussing the case with Henrik. Something in the forensic report captured her attention; she tried to call David in Lund but he did not answered, so she sent him the images and the file and asked to be contacted soon. Her theory was feeble – it wasn't about the killer being left of right handed, but about the force used to give a blow with both arms, one of them could be impaired - but better try it than not.
Henrik was reading from the folder when the doorbell rang; Astrid had her own keys so Saga opened the door wondering who it could be.
Astrid, Maja and another girl entered the house dressed in the white traditional dress of Saint Lucia day.
They had a red ribbon each and wore candles in a small crown, two held a bowl full of traditional cookies, ginger and saffron, one had a pot of coffee; Suzanne closed the group with musical scores.
"We've prepared a surprise, dad. Maja's cousin is here for a few days and in Sweden they celebrate Lucia a lot."
The girls stood in the middle of the room, Suzanne gave each a score and they started singing traditional songs
Astrid at first was timid, but Maja and her cousin had a good voice and Suzanne . joined them for a few lines.
Saga recognized the songs, she heard them at school a long time ago and Jennifer liked to sing around Christmas time. They never dressed in white, their mother forbidding it. So they used to follow the other girls along the streets and Jennifer tried to sing. Saga noticed she started singing only when Astrid went at her side with the score.
Suzanne smiled and offered Henrik hers for the last song to perform all together.
The shopping afternoon - a white shirt with a round neck and long sleeves, a green cardigan with two big buttons, small purchases in a make up shop - was easier than Saga feared and she treated Astrid with a chocolate and cake pause when she saw in the shopping centre various mothers and daughters sat at the cafeteria with their purchases. Astrid deserved that and much more.
A woman with short hair, pushing a cart with a little boy in the apposite seat, passed by and looked at them with curiosity, then she approached Saga who stared at her for a moment blankly.
"You don't remember me? Asa Holst, the case… Ah, I cut my hair."
Saga stood up and shook the proffered hand, looking at the young boy.
Asa lifted him up. "Jan's going to be three in a few months."
"He's big for a three year old."
"Freddie never was a thin man." Asa looked at Astrid who smiled politely. "Your daughter is lovely. She resembles you a lot. I have to go, nice to meet you. Merry Christmas to you and your family."
She left without giving Saga time to reply. Astrid and herself similar? She glimpsed their reflection in a shop window and had to admit that with the little make up they both had a general resemblance was noticeable.
Astrid was curious, wanting to know who the woman was.
The brief explanation she was related to a case wasn't enough, knowing it was at the time Saga and Henrik had met, Astrid wanted more details.
It was the same with aunt Lillian, as she called her affectionately, asking questions about her dad during the lost years, or with her grannies, whenever she met them.
It was sad to hear that Henrik isolated from everybody – including his own parents and sister - for six years, because he wanted to dedicate every minute of his life outside work to his missing family.
Her father's life stopped for such a long time and then he met the woman sat in front of her and started living again.
She felt guilty for causing him pain, her counsellor helped her to understand she had nothing to blame for having been abducted and that it was dad's conscious choice to live in his grief. Sometimes people cannot understand who is so hurt and Saga with her own tragic past was the right one to open dad's shell again and reveal the pearl hiding inside.
Henrik and Astrid visited his parents on Saturday morning; Saga was at university and Henrik grabbed the occasion to plan her gift.
They were going to his cousin's, he explained while Klaus drove them to a county house surrounded by various buildings, a few minutes drive from the grandparents' home.
"Your dad has a great idea for Saga's gift.", Klaus told Astrid while showing her the place.
"Saga has a great idea for dad, too."
"I bet you'll know all their ideas. You're happy with a mom again, aren't you?"
"Yes, but I'll keep the secrets."
Henrik called Astrid from the entrance of a long building.
"Come here and see."
Astrid followed him into a stable, on each side a series of boxes occupied by horses. Some had the head outside, eyeing the visitors, others were eating and two men were petting a brown mare.
They looked up hearing steps and the shortest one greeted the visitors.
"Uncle Klaus, Henrik! It has been a long time."
Henrik hugged his cousin, a very long time, seven years.
Klaus explained Astrid Hans was his nephew, the manager of the place.
Hans had a resemblance to Henrik, the same cheekbones and nose; when he noticed the young woman Hans immediately moved to her.
"Don't you remember me? I put you and your sister on your first pony."
Confusion in Astrid, who looked around to search Henrik's contact. He passed an arm over her shoulders.
"You were only five, the summer mom had to work in Odense and we were often here."
Hans was contrived.
"I m sorry, now you're grown enough for a real horse."
"I never rode."
"A Mikelsen who never rode! We need to rectify it soon! Henrik, what do you think?"
Klaus whispered Astrid Fred Mikelsen was her great grandfather who started the family horse business.
Henrik smiled and agreed with Hans.
"But I don't have a horse dad!"
"Our families owns this place, long before I was born. Half the horses here are ours. Granddad will show ours. And maybe if you like, one of the next spring foals will become your own horse. Now I have to talk with Hans and we have to make a important call."
He blinked his eye and Astrid understood it was about the gift; Klaus noticed how much Astrid was looking at the horses, so he went to the store room and took from a shelf a pair of boots and two socks.
Back to Astrid, he made a proposal.
"We can rectify now the riding thing, while Henrik and Hans talk."
Her eyes got bright so Klaus helped her to change and lead her to the last box.
"This is Groggen, the sweetest and gentlest horse of the world. He's old, your dad used to ride him when he was young."
"He's so big."
"I'll keep the second reins, we'll stay in a paddock. Don't worry. Now put both hands on the knob and lift your left feet, good."
A push and Astrid was on.
Klaus instructed her how to handle the reins, how to prompt the horse with a little push of the knees, how to let her body follow the natural walk of the horse.
"Take it slowly, let him do everything."
When Henrik finished with his cousin, he heard voices from outside the stable.
Walking out, he saw his daughter on the saddle and his father teaching her how to make the horse draw circles; she was a natural, like his sister had been, while he had to overcome his fear of the big animals as a young kid. He approached them and eyed the horse. Sure it could not be, too many years have passed, horses were long lived but Groggen should be well into his twenties. He went closer cautiously, afraid to be disappointed. The white stain on the left side was like he remembered and the brown front legs, but it couldn't be him.
Astrid dismounted and Klaus asked her to go and grab something on the fence; Henrik looked again at the horse, then decided to dare. He whistled twice, one short, one long. The horse raised his head, looked at him, Henrik whistled again then stayed still.
The horse went to him immediately, crossing the distance with two fast gallops.
Klaus left the reins when he heard the whistles; Henrik never asked about his beloved horse for years, another way to punish himself, leaving behind everything dear to his heart.
Henrik caressed the horse, who tried to get into his pockets, where he used to keep the carrot he stole from his mother's kitchen just for Groggen.
Klaus joined them and handed his son a carrot.
"I thought he was gone."
"He was waiting for you. Always quiet, always smelling carrots in my pockets every time I came here."