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took leave from work to stay at home with the children. Women were better at networking and making contacts. And many mothers had got to know each other at the prenatal clinics. But for men, it was easy to end up feeling isolated. He’d felt very lonely as he pushed the pram through Roma, going from the Konsum supermarket to the nursery, to the playground, and back home.
    Yet, right now, very little was going on at the editorial office. There was hardly any news worth reporting. They found themselves in a strange in-between period, here in the middle of November. All Swedes should really go into hibernation, he thought. At least for a month. In December, they had the Christmas holidays to look forward to, at any rate. At the moment life was nothing but dreary darkness. Everybody looked pale and worn out, sniffling with colds and generally morose. He was at heart very fond of Pia Lilja, his camera woman, but this past week they had ended up quarrelling several times at work. They were the only staff members of the news division in Visby, and sometimes they acted like an old married couple, grumbling about nearly everything. Pia was also feeling frustrated, in terms of both her work and her personal life. Her affair with a shepherd from Hablingbo, which was the longest relationship she’d had so far, had recently ended. And a temporary job in Stockholm that she’d been hoping to get had gone to someone else.
    Something needs to happen, thought Johan. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as we can have some story to work on. Otherwise, Pia was going to scratch out his eyes with her long, turquoise-coloured fingernails.
    He sighed, then got up and went into the bedroom. Emma was wrapped up in all the covers. He lay down, put his arm around her and fell asleep.

SHE NEEDED TO stay calm. Not lose control. It was only darkness. Out here in the middle of nowhere, she was all alone. Just her and nature. Like back at home on the farm in Gammelgarn. Nothing dangerous about it. Jenny could feel that her cheek was bleeding. No doubt they would give her hell for getting all these scratches on her hands and face.
    Then she worked out what must have happened. Markus had turned off the paraffin lamp because he’d given up hope that she might come out to the cabin. He probably hadn’t been able to resist sitting down to go through the day’s photographs, and then he’d forgotten all about the time until he realized that it was too late for dinner. And then the battery on his computer had run out, or he’d simply felt too tired to do any more work and decided to go to bed.
    Her courage bolstered, she continued on.
    Suddenly, she could make out the wall of a building a few metres away. The cabin stood in the midst of thick undergrowth and, nearby, a big rock jutted up from the hillside like a
rauk
. Now she remembered. Markus had laughed and pointed to the tag fastened to his key. His cabin was called ‘The Rauk’. So she was in the right place. It was a cabin with unpainted wooden cladding and a slender chimney made of sheet metal. There was only one window. She called Markus’s name several times. No answer.
    Jenny stepped on to the porch and found a padlock on the plain wooden door. She felt hope slipping away as she yanked on the door handle.
    She was worn out and freezing, and now the bloody door was locked. A padlock on the outside. Wasn’t Markus even here? At that moment she felt drops of rain on her face. She peered into the darkness but could barely see anything at all. Then she noticed another small hut a short distance away.
    Hunching forward as the rain started coming down harder, she stumbled over roots and stones as she headed in that direction. She held out one hand and ran her fingers over the wall. A hasp. She opened the door, and a faint, unpleasant smell wafted towards her. It was the outdoor latrine. At least she could get out of the rain. She sat down on the closed lid. What the hell should she do now? Why had