To the Back of Beyond(24)

Before long, a narrow pass road appeared below Thomas that wound its way up the mountain. It was a single-lane road, but every few minutes a sports car would come roaring up, sometimes whole convoys of vehicles. The wailing of the over-gunned motors tore the silence; the noise came and went as the cars zipped around one corner and disappeared around the next.

There was a small chapel at the pass and in front of it a tall flagpole with a Swiss flag. The other side of a flat meadow Thomas saw a few buildings, a longish cow barn, and a dwelling house. Presumably there was an inn there as well, maybe even somewhere to stay the night, at any rate there were a few cars parked. It was late afternoon, the sky had clouded over, and it felt chilly, so he decided he would stay the night here.



Astrid woke up early and was unable to get back to sleep. The confusion of the previous night seemed covered over by a great clarity. Her forces seemed to all be pulling together, as if under a great threat. She knew what had to be done, without needing to think about it. She didn’t care about Thomas’s plans or objectives. Whatever he’d had in mind, she wasn’t about to let him go unopposed. She would bring him back. What was on the agenda now was just putting her plan into effect. When she heard Manuela and the kids getting up, she pretended to be asleep again. After the children had left the house, she got up. Manuela was just tidying up in the kitchen. When Astrid walked in, her sister-in-law silently hugged her, as though they were meeting at a funeral. Impatiently, Astrid endured the hug. I’m so sorry, said Manuela, once she’d finally let go of her. These things happen, Astrid said coolly. Manuela poured two cups of coffee and led the way into the living room. She was behaving as though it was her house, as though she was the host and Astrid had come around for a chat. On the sofa lay a woolen blanket, where Manuela had apparently been curled up.

It’s so unusual for Thomas, she said. I can’t imagine what got into him. Thank you for minding the kids, said Astrid. But of course, said Manuela, that’s what kinship is for. You’re not kin, thought Astrid. We’re pretty sure we know where Thomas is, she said. We, she thought, Patrick and I. The idea that Manuela might have talked to him about her upset her. It felt as though he had betrayed her. I want to drive to the Muota valley, it’s possible someone has seen him there. You can’t trust the police to do anything. Could you look after the kids just today? Manuela put on a long-suffering expression. Do you really think that’s a good idea? she asked, as though talking to an invalid. I feel perfectly fine, said Astrid. It’s the one lead we have. Maybe…she trailed off. You mustn’t imagine I’m on his side, just because I’m his sister, said Manuela, I think what he did is so out of character. Out of character is interesting, thought Astrid, that just means he would never do such a thing, it’s not in him, and it’s your fault for driving him away. She asked herself whether Manuela might know anything about Thomas’s whereabouts. The two siblings had always had a certain closeness which she had never understood, and which irked her. She herself had grown up as an only child, and couldn’t imagine what it was like to have a brother or sister. Of course Manuela was on Thomas’s side, even if she denied it. It drives me crazy to be sitting around when I know where he is, said Astrid. Did you have a fight? asked Manuela, still in her therapist’s voice. If you won’t look after the kids, I’ll ask the neighbor, said Astrid.

It was after nine o’clock before she was on the road. Her GPS informed her that the drive to the Muota valley would take two hours. Astrid drove the speed limit; shortly before eleven she left the autobahn. The country road took her uphill, and soon she was in a flat upland valley. Right at the end of the valley was the village, which seemed to consist of a single long street. She left the car outside a restaurant, took the picture of Thomas out of her bag, and got out. What immediately struck her was the quiet that lay over the valley. All sounds seemed somehow muffled, and the people she asked about Thomas answered so quietly and hesitantly it was as though they were part of a crowd that happened to have witnessed some great spectacle and didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. Without the children and in this unfamiliar setting she found it easier to inquire after Thomas. Have you seen this man? He must have been through here last night? He was wearing hiking clothes. Probably unshaven. But even as she asked the handful of passersby, she sensed that Thomas hadn’t been through here. He would have tried to avoid the village and stick to the slopes on the opposite side where it was mostly cow pastures, with just the occasional farm and stall. The people were not unfriendly, but they were tight-lipped and unforthcoming, a few just shook their heads and walked on. A couple of schoolkids who spilled laughing out of the bus and then straightaway fell silent, as though their merriment was out of place here, asked if the man had committed a crime. Astrid had come up with a story, an explanation, but now, when put to it, she just said no, he’s my husband. The schoolchildren hadn’t seen Thomas either.

Astrid wasn’t at all hungry, but she went into the restaurant where she had parked her car. The room was empty except for the landlady sitting at one of the tables, watching a rerun of a talk show on television. When Astrid came in, she switched off the television and turned on the radio. A brass band played a medley of familiar pop tunes. By and by the tables filled with workmen and laborers in orange work clothes. Apart from the landlady, Astrid was the only woman in the place. She ordered the special, but the sight of the brimming plate took away her appetite, and she pecked around, eating barely half of it. When the landlady took her plate, she asked if she hadn’t enjoyed her meal.