“That’s great news. Congratulations.”

Faye arranged her features into what she hoped looked like a smile, though her guts were twisting so badly that she wanted to bend double with pain.

Ylva put her hands on her nonexistent bulge and beamed at her. Faye returned the smile and took a large slurp of wine. Memories of the abortion forced their way into her head. Jack’s cold indifference. And Julienne’s birth. The hundreds of unreturned calls and texts to Jack, while she, immersed in panic and pain, gave birth to their daughter.

She looked out of the window. The garden was full of staff frantically preparing for the arrival of the party guests.

“When are you due?” she asked.

“Six months.”

Ylva lit up when she saw Jack walking toward them. He poured himself a whiskey at the bar and sat down in the other armchair, some distance from Ylva, where he had a clear view of Faye’s cleavage.

Ylva noticed.

“Is everything ready?” she asked. Her voice sounded tight.

“Pretty much. The other children will be here in forty-five minutes.”

He held his watch up toward her. An Audemars Piguet, worth around half a million kronor. Not a Rolex, which Jack presumably considered too mainstream. Everyone had a Rolex these days. Anyone who was anyone had an Audemars Piguet. Or a Patek Philippe.

“The pop stars are coming at three. Don’t say anything to Julienne, she doesn’t know.”

He nodded in Faye’s direction.

“How’s business?”

“Great, thanks. And things seem to be going well for you too. The stock-market launch is exciting.”

“It’s a lot of work. But it’s worth it after everything I’ve been through.”

Faye smiled at him and Ylva.

“Congratulations on the baby. Ylva told me.”

She changed position, so that he could see a bit farther up her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, she didn’t want any lines spoiling her skin-tight dress.

Jack watched her movements.

He raised his glass to her. The crotch of his trousers looked tight.

“Mm, yes, great,” Jack said in a thick voice.

He gave a strained smile. His eyes looked unfocused.

Ylva cleared her throat. “Jack’s been a bit unsure. There’s so much going on with his work right now, and you of all people know how seriously Jack takes being a parent.”

Was that how she used to sound? Jack thinks, Jack wants, Jack believes? Christ, she must have been unbearable. And now Ylva was sitting there, a younger version of her, with her hands on her stomach and a stupid grin on her face, praising the same man. Blinded by love and admiration. And dependency.

Jack preferred his women like that, Faye realized now. But that only made her despise Ylva even more. Had she felt any qualms at all? During any of those no doubt countless times she had had sex with Jack at the office, in their home, in her own apartment while Faye sat at home waiting? Probably. But she had been blinded by her love for Jack. And looked down on his pathetic wife, drifting about the house all day with no career, no ambitions. No doubt Ylva thought herself far superior in comparison. And had concluded that Faye was unworthy of a man like Jack.

Faye drank the last of her wine. She looked sadly down at the bottom of the narrow glass. She didn’t feel quite bold enough to go and refill her own glass at the bar.

“I think I might go and have a nap before everything gets going,” Ylva said, and stood up with a last look at Faye.

A silence fell after she left the room. After a while Jack cleared his throat.

“You’re looking incredible,” he said quietly.

His eyes didn’t leave her cleavage. She let him look at her. Tucked her hair back to uncover her neck and collarbone, no longer hidden under a protective layer of fat. She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy him looking at her, but the fact that her body persisted in reacting to him didn’t mean that he had control over her.

Part of her wanted to show him that she no longer needed him. Make him understand that she no longer saw herself in terms of him. But she mustn’t give in to the temptation to show her superiority. Partly because she needed to get him to fall for her again, which would never happen if he didn’t think he could control her. Partly because he—no matter how badly he had treated her—was still Jack. However much she might try to deny it, his words meant something to her.

“Thanks,” she replied coolly.

His gaze moved down to her cleavage again and lingered there. She took out her mobile and pretended to send a text.

“Do you know, I still dream about you sometimes?” he said as he got up from the armchair, went over to the bar and fetched the bottle of cava, and refilled both their glasses.

He sat down on the sofa next to her, coming far too close.

The smell of Jack’s aftershave confused her. It was the same scent he had worn in Barcelona. She took a deep breath, told herself that she mustn’t let herself be taken in by her memories, all the things she had believed to be true but which had turned out to be lies. She was going to have to reject his advances but maintain his interest. A precarious balancing act. Jack liked the chase. That was how she had caught him the first time, a long time ago in another life. She turned toward him and looked directly into those beautiful blue eyes, which were now focused solely on her.

Men like Jack always wanted what wasn’t theirs. That was why he had been unfaithful to her. That was why she knew he was going to be unfaithful to Ylva as well, if he hadn’t been already. That was why he would be unfaithful to any woman in his life for as long as he lived.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind them, Faye and Jack turned at the same time and saw Julienne approaching. She was wearing a beautiful pink dress. She had makeup on, and it made her look very grown-up. Faye wasn’t altogether sure what she thought about that.

“You look beautiful, darling,” she said anyway. “Like a princess.”

Julienne did a twirl.

“Jessica says I could be a model,” she said.

“Jessica?” Faye repeated, searching her memory for the names of her daughter’s school friends.

“The makeup artist,” Jack said when he saw her confusion. “And she’s right about that.”

He swept Julienne up onto his lap and Faye felt a moment’s doubt. As Julienne sat between them on the sofa it felt briefly as if they were a family again. It made Faye feel a bit lost, disoriented.

She reached for her glass and raised it to her lips as Jack stared greedily at her.

—

The sound of shrill voices could be heard in the garden. The girls had started to arrive. Luxury car after luxury car pulled up in the drive and out tumbled a deluge of six-and seven-year-olds in party outfits. Faye stayed in the background while Jack and Ylva chatted to the parents. The pile of presents on the table grew. Most of them were wrapped in white paper bearing the logo of NK department store. The magician got up onstage and the girls cheered. Waiters brought nibbles and fizzy drinks for the girls in their party dresses, who were sitting at round tables in the party tent, like some fancy evening reception. Julienne clapped her hands happily. A famous children’s television presenter was acting as emcee, introducing the acts.

When Sean and Ville, last to perform, appeared onstage, the shrieks of excitement were deafening. Faye realized that this was her chance to scan the key logger. The girls left their tables and crowded around the edge of the stage. Ylva and Jack seemed completely absorbed in the girls’ reactions as their idols appeared. She discreetly left the tent, went inside the house and upstairs to Jack’s study. He still had the same desk he’d had when they were together, the one that once belonged to Ingmar Bergman. She felt a pang of nostalgia for the room in the tower. Its majestic stillness, hovering above the city, a memory from a distant time. She shook off the feeling and forced herself to focus. Those few moments on the sofa with Jack and Julienne had knocked her off balance. She couldn’t afford that.

She put her handbag down on the desk and leaned over the computer. Beside the screen were two framed photographs. A black-and-white Polaroid picture of Ylva that must have been taken several years ago. She was staring seriously at the camera, her lips slightly parted. Fucking the camera, as Chris would have said. The other picture was of Jack, Ylva, and Julienne in a restaurant. Ylva and Julienne were wearing matching dresses. They looked like a happy little family. All three of them were laughing. Faye took a deep breath. It was only an illusion, a facade that Jack had created. Nothing more.