The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7) Read Free Page A

Maybe it was because the atmosphere on board suited her. It was a temporary situation; everyone was always on their way somewhere else, and she had only superficial contact with the passengers. She forged no permanent bonds with anyone. Her colleagues came and went, and she was always working with new people.
    She had filled the emptiness in her own way. No one had any idea what went on underneath, but soon everything was going to change. Her life was about to take a dramatic turn. Although she was terrified by the thought of the consequences, she realized that this change was inevitable. She had reached a crossroads. With one blow her secure existence would be turned upside down, and she was the one who had made that choice.
    There was no going back.

AT THE FOOT of the stairs, she stops abruptly. She is staring upwards, nervously biting her lower lip. Her expression is rigid, focused. Her body is on high alert, like a hunted animal, listening, watching. Not a sound. She is pale but beautiful; her lips are painted red. Her dark tresses reach all the way past her waist. Her body is slender; she has long bare arms; she is wearing a skimpy top and shorts. She has kicked off her shoes. She puts one foot on the stairs made of Gotland limestone. Her red-painted toenails look like ripe wild strawberries – a lovely contrast with the grey. The light falls in from the side, creating a suggestive shadow play.
    Just as she’s about to go upstairs, she hears a sweeping sound behind her and she freezes. In a second the man is upon her, grabbing hold of her long hair and yanking her backwards. She falls on to the hall floor.
    ‘Cut!’
    Sam Dahlberg lifted his eyes from the monitor, relaxed, and brushed the hair back from his forehead. The actors cast him enquiring looks. Was he finally satisfied? This was the twelfth take of the same scene. The lead actress, Julia Berger, was starting to get a headache.
    ‘We’ll take it one more time.’
    Stifled sighs, resigned expressions. One person dared to shake his head, cursing the director who was never satisfied. And the cinematographer felt the same way. It was stuffy and hot in the house near Bungeviken where they were shooting the very last scenes, and the crew was running out of patience. It was past seven in the evening, and they’d been at it since dawn.
    Everyone was exhausted and hungry. Julia Berger shrugged and turned her hands palm up as she spoke to the director.
    ‘First, I’m going to need a cigarette and a glass of water. Just so you know.’
    She and her fellow actor disappeared out to the veranda facing the sea. A crew member rushed to take them some water. It was important to keep the star in a good mood. She was a temperamental diva, and on more than one occasion she had simply walked out, leaving the whole film crew in the lurch, because she’d lost patience and didn’t get her own way.
    Sam Dahlberg refused to be deterred. He could feel in his gut that this movie was going to be good. Really good. That was why he didn’t want to take any risks. Retakes were necessary. He and the cinematographer had agreed to make sure that they had enough footage when they went to the editing room.
    Sam quickly finished off a bottle of mineral water. In spite of the heavy downpour, it was damned hot. The crew relaxed, chatting to each other. One person ran to the toilet; another went out for a smoke. Everybody knew that the break would last a few minutes.
    When Sam once again took his seat in the director’s chair, the effect was immediate.
    ‘OK, let’s do it again,’ shouted the director’s assistant.
    The hum of voices stopped at once. Everyone turned to look at Sam, then at each other. Their posture changed from relaxed to alert, their expressions attentive. An air of concentration filled the set. Sam looked at the people around him. It was like a dream play every time. The actors, the script, the cinematographer, and the rest of the film crew: everyone with an important