Murder of Halland by Pia Juul Page A

properly awake. We had hardly ever been on buses together.
    ‘Was it a nice journey?’ I asked eventually.
    Nodding, he turned his head to look at me. ‘I was there straight away, on the back seat. With you. You put your head in my lap.’
    Oh, how I loved Halland at that moment. At that moment the memory returned.

17
    ‘I see you lead a double life.
    There’ll be an extra charge for that.’ 

    A fortune-teller
    When I stood up to follow the coffin out of the church, I bowed my head to avoid looking at anyone. Brandt didn’t seem to have come. Was he angry with me? Was he embarrassed ? Though there were plenty of pall-bearers, some confusion arose around the coffin. The pastor stepped in and sorted it out. I stared at the various feet as I waited to leave the pew. I didn’t want to be a bearer. I imagined breaking down, yet I kept myself together. I felt only a little pain in the hip but stayed in one piece. Pernille was beside me and I didn’t try to get away. There were clicking sounds as if someone was taking pictures, but I wouldn’t look up. We sang ‘There is a lovely land’. I had nothing to toss into the grave. Thus I took Pernille’s arm and steered her out through the gate onto the square. A voice, Inger’s perhaps, called out to us, but I kept going.
    ‘Do you have your bag?’ I asked Pernille.
    ‘Yes,’ she replied, yelping as she stumbled in her high heels.
    ‘Good. I’m driving you home!’ 
    ‘Now?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘All the way?’
    ‘Yes.’
    In the car, I pretended that she wasn’t with me. Otherwise I couldn’t have driven to Copenhagen. I turned on the radio and found what I normally would have regarded as the most insufferable station imaginable. I sang along as best I could, even when I had no idea what they were playing. Pernille shrank back in her seat. Eventually she said, ‘You need to fill up with petrol.’ She was right.
    ‘Have you got a licence?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then let’s swap over at the services.’
    She could talk and drive at the same time, and she had that way of checking the mirror that I so admired. ‘I thought there was supposed to be coffee and a bite to eat after a funeral,’ she said, checking the mirror again. ‘Not after this one,’ I replied.
    ‘I went to a funeral once, and afterwards over coffee people stood up and said nice things about the deceased. I found that so touching.’
    ‘What would you have said about Halland?’
    ‘I wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been thinking about something since he died. After I fell pregnant, I became rather unhinged. I told him I didn’t want to see him any more, that I wanted him to move his stuff out. That made him cry.’
    Halland didn’t know how to cry. I never saw a tear in his eye, not once, not even a snivel. A slight flutter in his voice on occasion, then a deep breath and he regained control.
    ‘I feel so bad about asking him to leave, because I didn’t really want that. But everything was such a mess, and I need my baby to have the right start.’
    ‘But you can’t afford the rent without Halland’s help,’ I said. ‘Wasn’t that what you told me the other day?’
    ‘Yes, and in fact I didn’t want to throw him out. I just wasn’t thinking straight at the time. We worked things out in the end.’
    Halland didn’t know how to cry. I didn’t believe her.
    ‘Did Halland need to leave for the baby to have the right start?’
    ‘I told you, I wasn’t thinking straight!’
    ‘So you keep saying.’
     
    The flat was big for someone on their own; I could see why Pernille had rented out a room. While I waited in the hallway, she disappeared into the bathroom. ‘Do you have the keys?’ she called out.
    ‘Yes, they’ve been in my pocket for days, bloody things,’ I muttered, pulling them out. ‘Which room is it?’
    ‘First on the left, the one with the door closed!’ Emerging from the bathroom, she came and stood behind me as if to follow me into the room. Turning