She’s using the present tense: dream. Not dreamed. She’s still dreaming.
“After that night he texted me and wanted to meet up again, so we did.”
Her voice sounds stronger now. Every so often she lifts her head and looks straight at Leijon and the lay judges. Michael straightens up and encourages her to go on with a pat on the arm. Naturally he’s wearing one of those blue shirts he special-orders from a tailor in Helsingborg. Many years ago, when we worked together, he confessed that he usually tosses each shirt after a day in court. The sweat is impossible to wash out.
“We went to Chris’s apartment a few times,” Stella says. “We took a limousine to Copenhagen and went to a fancy restaurant. We went to the spa in Ystad and one night we got a suite at the Grand Hotel.”
It’s ridiculous how little you know about your own child. Here I had convinced myself that Stella and I had grown closer in recent years. Yet I know only a fraction of what goes on in her life. I consider whether this is strange, or even wrong; if it’s characteristic of our relationship in particular or if mothers of teenagers generally believe that they know more about their children than they actually do.
“Sometimes all three of us hung out. Chris, Amina, and me,” Stella says. “I mean, Chris and I weren’t in a relationship. We had sex a few times, but we weren’t a couple.”
The lay judges exchange glances again. The two women cringe, and the Sweden Democrat’s face glows red. I don’t want my daughter’s sex life laid bare either, but it takes quite a bit more than this to shock me.
“It was nothing serious, nothing like that. For me or for him. To be perfectly honest, I don’t think Chris wanted to be with a seventeen-year-old, and for me it was unthinkable to start anything. I was going to leave soon on a big trip. To Asia.”
My eyes sting and I carefully dab at them with a tissue. In my mind I see Stella under a palm tree on a beach in paradise. I hardly dare to imagine the alternative. Several years in prison. And presumably a life sentence from society—on the job market, among friends and acquaintances. How would Adam and I manage to go on? How would Stella manage?
“I know Amina was with Chris too, a few times,” Stella says. “It didn’t bother me.”
G?ran Leijon scratches his head.
“Can you be more precise on that point?”
“Which?”
“What do you mean, exactly, when you say Amina was with Chris?”
For the first time, the court gets to see a different side of Stella. Her eyes flash and the veins in her neck stand out.
“I mean they spent time together. That’s it! Amina didn’t have sex with Chris, if that’s what you’re implying.”
G?ran Leijon’s cheeks turn red and he takes a sip of water as Michael places a calming hand on Stella’s arm.
“I was in total shock when I found out…” Her voice trembles and Stella scratches near her lips. “When the police told me what had happened. I couldn’t believe it. I knew Chris had received threats, but for him to die … I still haven’t come to terms with it.”
Faces are slowly changing in the gallery. The journalists’ typing starts to slow. Behind me, someone’s whisper is a little too loud as he wonders what threats Stella is talking about. Is it the ex-partner? I close my eyes and breathe. The tunnel has widened a bit.
“Before the prosecutor asks her questions, perhaps you would like to tell us what you were doing on the night of August the thirty-first,” says G?ran Leijon.
His voice is gentle, his eyes empathetic and trust inducing.
“I worked at H&M until we closed at seven fifteen,” Stella says. “Then I went with some coworkers to the Stortorget restaurant. We hung out at the outdoor seating there for a few hours. It was probably around ten thirty when I went to get my bike.”
Michael has sunk back into his chair slightly and his shoulders have relaxed. This makes me feel relieved and worried at the same time.
“Just when I was about to get on my bike, I caught sight of Linda Lokind on the other side of the street. Chris’s ex, that is. She had followed me another time too. She’s pretty creepy, so I tried to call Amina, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to do. That was when I tried to get hold of Chris.”
I tried to put myself in her shoes. What would I have done? It’s so easy to believe you know exactly how you would react in different situations, but I have learned, not least through my work, that such notions don’t mean a thing when the chips are down. It’s simply not possible to predict how you will handle certain situations.