Read I Can See in the Dark for Free Online

the green shoots of spring, Lill Anita came up the path pushing Miranda in her wheelchair. I knew she was called Lill Anita, I’d heard her on her mobile phone, hi, this is Lill Anita, she’d say, as if her being on the other end of the line was some sort of event in itself. Their approach was silent, the rubber wheels made no noise, but I saw the glint of metal as they came round the bend. They halted at
Woman Weeping
. Lill Anita attempted to explain something using large, clear gestures, and Miranda’s uncontrollable hand dabbed at her own hair. They arrived at the bench, the one they always used. The wheelchair was placed where they could reach each other easily, and the brake duly applied. A light pressure on the pedal, and the wheels were locked.
    They glanced quickly over at me sitting by myself, they were used to me being on my own. Perhaps they guessed, quite correctly, that I had no one, not a single person I could call a friend, barely even an acquaintance, apart from my colleagues at Løkka, and I didn’t have anything to do with them when I wasn’t at work. Mine was a simple existence without any great responsibilities, but there was something missing even so. Sometimes I felt that this need was getting the upper hand. And making me desperate for closeness and companionship. But then it would recede again, and I would take pleasure once more in the freedom and advantages of solitude. I’d never exchanged a single word with Lill Anita, we were only on nodding terms. So I gazed at the fountain and the flowing water, the day held no promise for me, I was just killing time until my next shift.
    Miranda was wearing a dress and, because there was a nip in the air, a pair of thick socks as well. They were patterned with some sort of yellow-and-grey zigzag, reminiscent of a snake. She had a bow in her wispy hair and chalky white trainers on her feet. Lill Anita was clad in studded jeans. The faded denim had several large tears in the thighs, so you could see the pale skin beneath. With all those studs, and a good deal of piercing too, she resembled a bed of nails. This apart, she was nice enough, with a wan, heart-shaped face and a pouting, pink mouth which I assumed would be quick to purse in sarcasm if she were annoyed. She tapped eagerly away on her mobile phone, busy sending a text message, her fingers, slender as noodles and tipped with black nail varnish, working rapidly. Miranda was left to her own devices. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she slipped slightly over to one side; there wasn’t much backbone in that frail body. Occasionally she would bend backwards in a spasm. I wondered where they came from, these involuntary movements. Now Lill Anita began a telephone conversation, and I listened keenly, I could hardly do otherwise, as her words wafted in my direction. Her voice cut through the air. It had a particular, sharp edge.
    ‘Hi, it’s Lill Anita here. Yes, we’re in the park. Oh, God no, it’s not easy finding something to do every bloody day. And I don’t like going to the Dixie, people stare, I’m so sick of it, and Miranda’s just the same as other kids, she always starts making a fuss, then people gawp even more, I can’t bear it. Yes. We’ve just arrived. Well, the weather’s not too bad. Might as well sit here as anywhere. What did you say? You’re at the Dixie? Have you got that film we were talking about, is it on Blu-ray? Is it as good as everyone says? Can I borrow it?’
    Here Lill Anita paused. She tended the child with a busy hand, smoothed her hair and straightened her dress, checked if she was cold, I don’t think she was. Then she looked over at me sitting on my bench. It was as if a thought had suddenly struck her, as if she’d seen me for the very first time. Her gaze was long, sober and appraising, it took in the whole of me, my slicked-back hair and my thin, stooping shoulders.
    ‘Sorry to trouble you,’ she said in a high, carrying voice, because I was some way