My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry(89)

And maybe in the end that’s what everything, all of this, is about.

Elsa finds her Gryffindor scarf in the snow outside the house, where she dropped it when she charged at Sam the night before. The green-eyed policewoman is standing a few yards away. The sun has hardly risen. The snow sounds like popcorn popping as she walks over it.

“Hello,” offers Elsa.

Green-eyes nods, silently.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Green-eyes smiles. Elsa wraps the scarf around herself.

“Did you know my granny?”

The policewoman scans along the house wall and over the little street.

“Everyone knew your grandmother.”

“And my mum?” Green-eyes nods again. Elsa squints at her. “Alf says you were best friends.” She nods again. Elsa wonders how that would feel. To have a best friend who’s your own age. Then she stands in silence beside the policewoman and watches the sun come up. It’s going to be a beautiful Christmas Eve, despite everything that’s happened. She clears her throat and heads back to the front entrance, stopping with her hand on the door handle.

“Have you been on guard here all night?”

She nods again.

“Will you kill Sam if he comes back?”

“I hope not.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not my job to kill.”

“What is your job, then?”

“To protect.”

“Him or us?” Elsa asks reproachfully.

“Both.”

“He’s the one who’s dangerous. Not us.”

Green-eyes smiles without looking happy.

“When I was small your grandmother used to say that if you become a police officer, you can’t choose who to protect. You have to try to protect everyone.”

“Did she know you wanted to become a policewoman?” asks Elsa.

“She’s the one who made me want to become one.”

“Why?”

Green-eyes starts smiling. Genuinely, this time.

“Because I was afraid of everything when I was small. And she told me I should do what I was most afraid of. I should laugh at my fears.”

Elsa nods, as if this confirms what she already knew.

“It was you and Mum, wasn’t it—the golden knights who saved the Telling Mountain from the Noween and the fears. And built Miaudacas. It was you and Mum.”

The policewoman raises her eyebrows imperceptibly.

“We were many things in your grandmother’s fairy tales, I think.”

Elsa opens the door, puts her foot in the opening, and stops there.

“Did you know my mum first or my granny?”

“Your grandmother.”

“You’re one of the children on her bedroom ceiling, aren’t you?”

Green-eyes looks directly at her. She smiles again in the real way.

“You’re smart. She always said you were the smartest girl she ever met.”

Elsa nods. The door closes behind her. And it ends up being a beautiful Christmas Eve. Despite everything.

She looks for the wurse in the cellar storage unit and in Renault, but they are both empty. She knows the wardrobe in Granny’s flat is also empty, and the wurse is definitely not in Mum and George’s flat because no healthy being can stand being there on a Christmas morning. Mum is even more efficient than usual at Christmas.

She normally starts her Christmas shopping in May each year. She says it’s because she’s “organized,” but Granny used to disagree and say it was actually because she was “anal,” and then Elsa used to have to wear her headphones for quite a long time. But this year Mum decided to be a bit free-spirited and crazy, so she waited until the first of August before asking what Elsa wanted for Christmas. She was very angry when Elsa refused to tell her, even though Elsa expressly asked if she understood how much someone changes as a person in half a year when they’re almost eight. So Mum did what Mum always does: she went and bought a present on her own initiative. And it went as it usually went: to hell. Elsa knew that because she knew where Mum hid her presents. What do you expect when you buy an almost-eight-year-old her present five months early?

So this year, Elsa is getting three books that are about different themes in some way or other touched upon by various characters in the Harry Potter books. They’re wrapped in a paper that Elsa likes very much. Elsa knows that because Mum’s first present was utterly useless and when Elsa informed her of that in October they argued for about a month and then Elsa’s mum gave up and gave Elsa money instead, so she could go and buy “what you want, then!” And then she wrapped them in a paper she liked very much. And put the parcel in Mum’s not-so-secret place and praised Mum for again being so considerate and sensitive that she knew exactly what Elsa wanted this year. And then Mum called Elsa a “Grinch.”

Elsa has become very attached to this tradition.

She rings Alf’s bell half a dozen times before he opens. He’s got his dressing gown on, his irritated expression, and his Juventus coffee cup.

“What’s the matter?” he barks.

“Merry Christmas!” says Elsa without answering the question.

“I’m sleeping,” he grunts.

“It’s Christmas Eve morning,” Elsa informs him.