Faye didn’t know what to say, she had thousands of stories from the online forum lodged in her heart like lumps of ice. All the betrayals. All the lies. All the indifference and selfishness. She couldn’t tell Chris she was wrong with anything approaching confidence. No matter how much she wanted to.

The short walk from the parking lot to the elevator felt endless. When they finally made it into the apartment Chris hurried into the bathroom and threw up. Faye held her hair back. Fifteen years had passed since they were last in that situation. It felt like a lifetime ago.

—

Naturally, after that brief flicker of doubt Faye decided to use the information from the USB stick. Now that the key logger was installed on Jack’s computer she had gotten part of the way, but she had yet to find a way to collect it and copy the text file containing all the information. Then she had to hope that everything was still there in his Gmail account. The Jack she used to know was hopeless at getting rid of things. He always wanted to keep everything, just in case: “You never know when you might need it.”

With a bit of luck she’d have an opportunity during Julienne’s birthday party that weekend.

Then there was Ylva. Though it seemed Jack had already reduced her to a shadow of her former self, Faye couldn’t forget the look of derision in Ylva’s eyes when she had looked at her. In her bedroom. Naked and freshly fucked by Faye’s husband. Slim, toned, and with perfect silicone tits.

Slowly but surely she had invaded Ylva’s territory at the same time as Ylva had started to slide into hers. Faye’s body was slim and toned. She had new breasts. And Jack had noticed the change. Each time they met to pick up or drop off Julienne his eyes would roam over her body. The way they used to back at the start. Back when she was the one he couldn’t get enough of. Much as she hated him, the attraction she felt for him was as strong as ever. And she had never got used to seeing him with Ylva. She probably never would.

Her own love life was confined to short-term flings with younger men that she met in bars, slept with a few times, and then broke up with. No one was allowed to get too close. No one was allowed to stay. In her weaker moments she dreamed of crushing Jack, once and for all . . . and then taking him back. Another of her dirty, shameful secrets. The dark water kept replenishing itself.

No one could accuse Jack of restraint, Faye thought as she drove up to the house. Julienne had said she wanted her seventh birthday party to be a carnival, and Jack had brought in a company specializing in children’s parties who had decorated the garden with pink balloons, party tents and stages, and a red carpet, although in this instance it was pink. And a professional photographer to take pictures of all the children as they arrived, then put their photographs up on a wall. There were tables laid in the garden, groaning under the weight of food and presents. Even by Liding? standards, it was pretty over the top.

But then Jack had a greater need for self-justification than any of the other dads on the island.

Julienne let out a shriek, jumped out of the car, and ran up the drive. Jack and Ylva came out onto the steps to meet her. Faye got out and walked up the slope. She had chosen a tight, low-cut, short-sleeved dress, flesh-colored, from Hervé Léger, and she could feel Jack looking at her. Ylva seemed to notice him looking as well. She threw her arms open demonstratively to Julienne. Faye felt a pang in her gut when Julienne hugged her, but made an effort to go on smiling.

“How nice you’ve made it look,” she said.

“We wanted to do something extra special for her today,” Ylva said breezily as she air-kissed Faye.

She smelled pleasantly of shampoo and perfume. She too had begun to adopt an ingratiating, falsely familiar tone toward Faye once her success with Revenge had become too big and obvious to ignore.

Faye looked at Ylva as she disentangled herself from her embrace. Wasn’t she starting to get the same bitter set to her mouth that Faye had noticed in herself during the latter part of her time with Jack? And a bit too much Botox in her forehead?

“If you run up to your room you’ll see that we’ve organized an early surprise for you,” Jack said, patting Julienne on the cheek.

Julienne ran into the house and her footsteps echoed up the stairs. Jack turned toward Faye.

“Ylva’s organized a . . . what was it again?”

“A makeup artist,” Ylva said. “The same girl who does Carola’s makeup, actually.”

A young man came over and introduced himself as a magician. He and Jack disappeared into the house, leaving Faye and Ylva to look out over the garden. Two men were carrying one of the tables between them.

“You really have made it look very nice,” she said again, to fill the silence.

She wasn’t lying. The house was beautiful, and the garden delightful. Their gardener deserved a bonus. They seemed to have gotten rid of the geese that used to shit all over the beach. There was a rumor that Jack had paid someone to shoot them at night.

Ylva smiled.

“Would you like to stay and join in? Juli would probably rather we kept out of the way as much as possible, but it could be nice, couldn’t it?”

Faye’s comments about her home seemed to have prompted a spontaneous show of generosity. She seemed to regret it at once, but it was out there now.

Faye felt like being sick when she heard Ylva call her daughter Juli. But instead of pointing out that she wasn’t some damn pet guinea pig, she nodded. Partly because she hoped she might get a chance to access Jack’s computer, but also because she had noticed Ylva’s immediate regret about her spontaneous invitation.

“I’d love to.”

“Great. Wonderful. Jack’s managed to book Sean and Ville to come and sing a couple of songs.”

Sean and Ville were a boy band Julienne and her friends were completely obsessed with. They knew all the songs and never missed their daily updates on YouTube. Some weekends she even forced Faye to take her to sit outside their studio, just for the chance to see the two wastrels throw themselves into a taxi without so much as a glance at the little girls waiting, first with shrieks of excitement, then tears of disappointment.

“That can’t have been cheap,” she said.

“No, their manager demanded eighty thousand kronor—for two songs. Plus a rider requesting champagne and chocolate truffles . . .”

“Dear Lord . . .”

“Jack wasn’t sure at first, but I persuaded him. I so want this to be an unforgettable day for her. Would you like a glass of champagne? You can always leave the car here and get a taxi home. Or we can arrange to have someone drive you home in your car.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Let’s go in.”

There was a zinc bar in the living room. Ylva walked behind it and took out a bottle.

“Cava?” she asked. “I prefer it to champagne, I always have a few bottles in the house.”

“Great, thanks.”

Ylva took out a glass, opened the bottle, and poured some for Faye.

“Aren’t you having any?”

Ylva shook her head.

“We’ve never talked about . . . well, what happened,” she said.

She looked almost apologetic. Faye suddenly realized how much she hated her. She had slept with Faye’s husband for months behind her back. And now she was standing here, in their fucking big house, cool and beautiful, if a little over-Botoxed, acting all sympathetic and imagining that everything could be forgiven. It would be more honest if she had continued to be as haughty and arrogant as she had been when she was standing naked in Faye’s bedroom. Faye would have hated her less then.

Now all she wanted was to see her break apart in front of her eyes.

Ylva and Jack. They truly deserved each other. They deserved what was approaching on the horizon and would soon destroy their perfect life.

“There’s no need,” she said. “You and Jack are such a good match for each other. And things have turned out so well for all three of us.”

She raised her glass.

“I’m very impressed with what you’ve managed to do with Revenge,” Ylva said, sitting down in a large, flowery armchair.

A Josef Frank design from Svenskt Tenn. Jack had always loved their prints, but Faye couldn’t help thinking they were better suited to retirees.

“Mm, thanks. And how are things going for you? Are you happy at Musify?”

“I’m actually going to leave. I . . . I’ve spent the last couple of years working part-time. Jack’s work needs so much support, all the entertaining, this house, Julienne . . . well, you know.”

Ylva waved one hand, but didn’t look Faye in the eye. And Faye wondered how much time Julienne took up during the few hours each month that she was with them. But all she said was, “Oh?”

“We . . . well, er, Julienne’s going to have a little brother or sister. And you know what Jack’s like, he’d rather I stayed at home. I’m looking forward to it, because I haven’t got a family of my own.”

Faye stared at her. She had been wondering when this day would come. Had dreaded it. Even so, nothing could have prepared her for the kick in the solar plexus that the news delivered. But at the same time she realized that the end was fast approaching for Ylva. Part of Faye felt sorry for her, part of her wanted to punch her.