Read Buried Angels for Free Online Page B

gone
?’ he shouted. ‘Do you have any idea how much you spend each month? Have you no clue how much everything costs? All the travelling, the dinners, the clothes, handbags, shoes, jewellery, and God knows what else you buy?’
    It wasn’t like Percy to shout in this way, and Pyttan shrank from him in alarm. Then she sat studying him for a while, and he knew her well enough to surmise that she was weighing her options: deciding whether to fight back or try to soothe him. When her expression abruptly softened, he knew that she’d decided on the latter.
    ‘Darling, let’s not start quarrelling about something as trivial as money.’ She straightened his tie and then tucked in his shirt, which had been pulled up out of his trousers. ‘All right. Now you look like my elegant lord of the manor again.’
    She pressed close, and he felt himself starting to relent. She was wearing the Gucci dress today and, as usual, he was finding it hard to resist her.
    ‘Here’s what we’re going to do. You phone the accountant and go through the books again. Things can’t be that bad. I’m sure you’ll find it reassuring to discuss the situation with him.’
    ‘I need to talk to Sebastian,’ murmured Percy.
    ‘Sebastian?’ said Pyttan, wincing as if she’d swallowed something foul. She glanced up at Percy. ‘You know that I don’t like you spending time with that man. Because then I have to entertain his insipid wife. Those two simply have no class. I don’t care how much money he has, he’s an utter boor. I’ve heard rumours that the fraud authorities have been keeping an eye on him for a while. They’ve yet to come up with any proof, but it’s only a matter of time. We shouldn’t have anything to do with him.’
    ‘His money is as good as anyone else’s,’ said Percy.
    He knew what the accountant was going to say. There was no money left. It was all gone, and in order to get himself out of this bind and to save Fygelsta, he needed capital. Sebastian was his only hope.
     
    They had been taken to the hospital in Uddevalla, but everything seemed fine: there was no sign of residual smoke in their lungs. Now that the first shock had subsided, Ebba felt as though she’d awakened from a strange dream.
    Finding herself squinting in the dim light as she sat at her desk, she turned on the lamp. Now that it was summer, dusk crept in slowly, and she invariably sat straining her eyes for a while before realizing that she needed more light.
    The angel she was working on was proving intractable, and she struggled to attach the loop. Tobias couldn’t understand why she made the jewellery by hand instead of having it manufactured in Thailand or China, especially now that a lot of orders were coming in via the web shop. But then the work wouldn’t seem as meaningful to her. She wanted to make each piece of jewellery by hand, put an equal amount of love into every necklace that she sent off. Weave into the angels her own sorrow and her own memories. Besides, she found it soothing to do this sort of work in the evenings, after spending a whole day painting and hammering and sawing. When she got up in the morning, every muscle ached, but while she worked on her jewellery, her body would relax.
    ‘I’ve locked up the house from top to bottom,’ said Tobias.
    Ebba gave a start. She hadn’t heard him come in.
    ‘Damn it,’ she swore as the loop fell off, just as she had almost put it in place.
    ‘Don’t you think you should take a break from all that tonight?’ said Tobias cautiously, coming to stand behind her.
    She could feel him hesitating about whether to put his hands on her shoulders or not. In the past, before what happened to Vincent, he would often massage her back, and she had loved his firm yet gentle touch. Now she could hardly stand to have him touch her, and there was a risk that she would instinctively shake off his hands and hurt his feelings, and then the distance between them would grow even greater.
    Ebba