Fear Not by Anne Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

operations and taking care of the construction. Kristiane was standing up straight, completely motionless. Although Johanne couldn’t make out the words, she could hear Ragnhild chattering away as if addressing the most spellbound audience in the world.
    Perhaps she was.
    Johanne smiled as Ragnhild suddenly got up from her small work of art and began to sing with great enthusiasm. Now Johanne could hear her voice inside the apartment.
Å leva det er å elska
rang out over the neighbourhood. Wherever had she learned that particular hymn? At any rate, it had most likely been Kristiane’s idea to sing it once the snowman was complete.
    A figure caught Johanne’s attention. It looked like a man, and she wasn’t sure where he had come from. Nor did it seem as if he was sure where he was going. For some reason this made her uneasy. Of course, there were youngsters in the area who turned up out of nowhere from time to time, but if she saw adults walking the streets they were always heading somewhere with a purpose. She recognized most of them after living for so many years in this little side road.
    The man was strolling along with his hands in his pockets. His hat was pulled down over his eyes and his tightly knotted scarf obscured the lower half of his face. But there was something about the way he walked that told her he wasn’t all that young.
    Johanne shook her right arm again. Her watch still wasn’t working. It must be the battery. They were probably running late. She was about to turn away from the window when the man stopped by the bins.
    By their bins.
    Johanne felt the fear racing inside her, as always when she didn’t have full control over Kristiane. For a moment she stood there, not knowing whether she should run downstairs or stay where she was andsee what happened. Without making a conscious decision, she stayed where she was.
    Perhaps he called out to them.
    At any rate, both girls looked at him, and Ragnhild’s gestures indicated that she was talking to him. He made some reply and waved her over. Neither of the girls went towards him. Instead, Ragnhild took a step back.
    Johanne ran.
    She raced through the apartment, out of the living room, along the hallway, out through the extension that had become the girls’ playroom, she ran, half-stumbled down the stairs and hurtled out into the cold wearing neither shoes nor slippers.
    ‘Kristiane!’ she shouted, trying to inject a calm, everyday tone into her voice. ‘Ragnhild! Are you there?’
    As she came around the corner of the house she saw them.
    Ragnhild was once again crouching down in front of the little snowman. Kristiane had spotted a bird or a plane. She was gazing up at the sky and without taking any notice of her mother she stuck out her tongue to catch the feather-light flakes that had begun to fall.
    There was no sign of the man.
    ‘Mummy,’ Ragnhild said sternly. ‘You are not allowed outside in your stocking feet!’
    Johanne looked down at her feet.
    ‘Goodness me,’ she said with a smile. ‘What a silly mummy you have!’
    Ragnhild laughed and pointed at her with a toy spade.
    Kristiane carried on catching snowflakes.
    ‘Who was that man?’ Johanne asked casually.
    ‘What man?’
    Ragnhild licked the snot trickling from her nose.
    ‘The man who was talking to you. The man who—’
    ‘Don’t know him,’ said Ragnhild. ‘Look what a brilliant snowman we’ve made! And without any snow!’
    ‘It’s lovely. But now it’s time to come in. We’re going to a Christmas party, remember. What did he ask you?’
    ‘Dam-di-rum-ram,’ said Kristiane, smiling up at the sky.
    ‘Nothing,’ said Ragnhild. ‘Are we going to a party? Is Daddy coming?’
    ‘No, he’s in Bergen, isn’t he? But that man must have said something. I mean, I saw him—’
    ‘He just asked if we’d had a nice Christmas,’ said Ragnhild. ‘Aren’t your feet cold, Mummy?’
    ‘Yes, they are. Come along, both of you. Time to go inside.’
    Amazingly,