Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(13)
Her sister has told Hanna that she can stay in ?re for at least a month. She’s going to have to come up with an excuse for not flying down to Spain. She can’t possibly travel there alone. There’s no way she’d be able to handle her parents’ disappointment over the breakup with Christian.
The last time they were in Guadalmina, her mother had raised the subject of marriage, making one comment after another, reminding Hanna that she was thirty-four—best not to wait too long before having children. She’d always refused to help out Hanna financially, but she was happy to pay for a huge wedding.
Christian would be a fantastic father!
Her mother repeated this several times, in a way that was supposed to be funny. Instead it sliced through Hanna like a razor blade.
The memory brings tears to her eyes.
Ulla was absolutely right. Christian will be a wonderful father—but not to Hanna’s children.
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13
The music is pounding in every room, the party is in full swing. Amanda is sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette.
She wonders how Ebba is going to explain all this to her parents when they get back. She would never dare to invite her friends over if her mom and dad were away. Mom would go crazy, even if there was no damage.
She hears a burst of laughter from the kitchen. It sounds like Viktor. She gets up and heads that way; she feels like dancing and making out.
Viktor and Wille are leaning against the sink. They must have really gone for it in the past hour; they can hardly stand up. They gaze at her with unfocused eyes, making drunken jokes. There are several crumpled beer cans on the table, and the floor is sticky with spilled booze.
The boys are caught up in their own conversation; they’re not interested in her. Amanda is furious. She’s about to walk away when Viktor reaches out to stop her.
Amanda shakes off his hand. She’s drunk too, but not enough to want to get close to him when he’s behaving like this.
She frowns as she sees him grab hold of a chair to stop himself from falling over.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re so drunk!” she snaps, tugging down the yellow top, which has ridden up over her stomach.
“Fuck’s shake you’re sho drunk,” he mimics her, although he’s slurring his words so badly he can barely finish the sentence. He seizes her arm, pulls her close. He’s surprisingly strong, in spite of the state he’s in. “What’s wrong?”
Amanda twists away as Viktor tries to kiss her.
“Come on—I really like you.”
He thinks he sounds romantic; he doesn’t realize he’s yelling. She turns her head away, but that doesn’t stop him; he keeps attempting to plant a sloppy kiss on her ear.
His grip is too tight, her cheek is pressed against his chest, she can hardly breathe.
She tries to shake off his hands, but he won’t let go. He squeezes harder, one hand groping for her ass.
“Stop it!” Amanda struggles to free herself. “I mean it, Viktor!”
“She’s not interested,” Wille says before belching loudly.
At last Viktor lets go.
“Sorry,” he says with a shrug, as if nothing has happened.
Amanda gives him a withering look, then goes back to the living room to find someone else to talk to.
Viktor is a fucking idiot. If he’s going to behave like that, she doesn’t want to be with him anymore.
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14
The party is getting out of hand. It’s well past midnight.
There’s a burn mark on the sofa, and the entire house stinks of smoke. A couple is doing God knows what at one end of the sofa.
Amanda is sitting on the stairs by herself. This wasn’t how she’d imagined the evening. Ebba has disappeared, and she doesn’t give a shit about Viktor. If he wants to behave like an idiot, then he has only himself to blame. She has no intention of running after him, begging to be with him.
She goes upstairs to look for Ebba. Loud groans can be heard from the main bedroom—Ebba’s parents’ room.
It sounds like Mackan, the coolest boy in the class.
Amanda guesses that Emily is the chosen one this evening.
She’s been after him all term, and she was pretty drunk earlier on.
Amanda checks out Ebba’s room. It’s empty, as is her brother’s. She moves on to the bathroom and finds Ebba on the floor with her back to the blue-tiled wall, her head resting on her knees. Her brown hair has fallen forward and is hiding her face.
There is a strong smell of vomit and a nasty reddish-brown mark on the toilet seat.
Poor Ebba.
“Are you okay?” she says, kneeling down beside her friend.
“No,” Ebba whispers. “I’m drunk.” She hurls herself at the toilet again. When she throws up, bits of vomit get stuck in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She sinks down onto the floor, whimpering.
“Don’t you think you should go and lie down?” Amanda suggests, stroking Ebba’s back.
“In a minute. I just need to rest for a while.”
The tears begin to flow.
“Mackan’s with Emily,” she mutters. “I hate him.”
Amanda sighs. How can Ebba have fallen for Mackan when he’s such an asshole? He knows he can have anyone he wants, and he makes the most of it. At least half the girls in their class are desperate to be with him.