I spot Ulva heading towards her caravan and walk in her direction. I don’t know what Loki wants with me or what kind of perverse game he’s playing, but I won’t let him distract me. I need to find out what happened to Nina, and Ruth said that she and Ulva were like sisters. She must know something.
I reach Ulva’s caravan just before she does. She’s wearing the same costume as before, a grey cloak with a lavish fur-lined collar, the wolf mask tucked under her arm.
She greets me warmly. ‘Hi, are you looking for Stig?’
‘Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.’
‘Oh.’
‘Is it OK to come in?’
‘Sure.’
She looks a little confused, but takes out her key and opens the door with a tentative smile. Her place is bigger than mine but just as shabby. Everything is pale and faded, from the floral sofas and curtains to the laminate wood-flooring and cupboards. Dirty plates clutter the counter and it smells of cooking: mashed potatoes and the tang of pickled fish.
She places the mask on the table, and the wolf leers as if daring me, its empty eyes seeing both nothing and too much.
‘Do you want a drink or something to eat?’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
She gestures for me to sit then goes to the counter and says over her shoulder, ‘Sorry, I’ll be with you soon. Work always makes me hungry.’ While she fixes a sandwich, I slide onto the bench and then look around the room. The flowery wallpaper is peeling and in places it’s been picked off, or ‘Ulva’ is scrawled over it in green crayon. There are no pictures, just a few flimsy magazine posters stuck to the wall: one of a snowy mountain scene and one of a snake. A pile of children’s picture books lies abandoned on a dusty corner unit. Stig said that Ulva was raised by the circus. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her. No wonder her daydream felt desperate when I touched her chiffon scarf. She must miss her mum so much.
She puts a glass of water and a plate on the table then sits opposite me. For a moment neither of us says anything, then she smiles nervously. ‘You do know Stig and I are just friends, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Stig said.’
I watch her eat and wonder what he’s told her about me. Presumably she knows I didn’t get a job here by chance. Does that mean others know too? Would she have told Ruth?
‘Good.’ She swallows another bite of her sandwich and looks at me kindly, her voice sincere. ‘Only you seem nice and Stig deserves to be happy, especially after Nina.’
I take a deep breath and keep my voice level. ‘I heard about the accident.’
Ulva raises her eyebrows and I have a feeling I need to tread carefully.
‘Ruth told me about it,’ I explain. ‘She said you and Nina were like sisters. You must miss her.’ I wait a moment then add, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but Ruth sounded like she was upset with Nina about something. She mentioned they had some kind of argument and I wondered if you knew –’
Ulva tears off some sandwich and barely chews before swallowing and taking another bite. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then reaches towards the mask on the table and strokes the wolf’s fur, her eyes burning with quiet intensity.
‘Ruth is a good person. She was just looking out for me.’
‘How do you mean?’
She glances at me as if suddenly aware of my presence. ‘Nothing, sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘Please, go on.’
‘I was planning to leave the circus with Mum, but Nina tricked me into staying.’ She looks away and her face darkens as if she doesn’t like remembering. ‘When Ruth found out she got angry, really angry. She even put a binding spell on her.’
‘A spell?’
Ulva shrugs. ‘She’s into magic and things. She wanted to stop Nina from doing anything like that again.’
I remember the evening I had dinner in Ruth’s caravan. There was a shelf with some candles and a figure wrapped in green thread. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but maybe it was an altar.
Ulva adds quickly, ‘Please don’t mention it to anyone. Ruth didn’t have anything to do with Nina’s accident, but I can tell she worries about it, and I don’t want her to feel bad.’
I nod and Ulva forces a smile then changes the subject. ‘I wanted Nina and Stig to be happy, I really did, but they weren’t good for each other. They made one another miserable, arguing all the time. Anyway, he has you now. I guess you’ll be going home together soon.’
She sees my expression and adds, ‘Sorry, did I get it wrong? Stig said something about going to the island with you. I forget the name of the place . . .’
I smile in surprise, realising that Stig must have told Ulva he wants to move to Skjebne. He seemed so different in the forest, honest and open in a way he hasn’t been before. Maybe we could have a future.
A noise makes me startle – a swish, snap and thud.
We turn and look together.
‘What was that?’ I ask.
Ulva meets my gaze, her face pale.
She stands up and walks across the room and I follow her, the skin on my arms prickling. It sounded like it came from inside. There are two closed doors at the rear of the caravan. She pauses before one of them and I hold my breath. I can’t hear anything now, but I have a bad feeling about what might be behind the door.
Ulva pushes it open and Nina is swaying from the ceiling, scrabbling at a seemingly invisible rope around her neck, her eyes bulging. I cover my mouth and swallow a scream. Her skin is grey, the veins on her forehead protruding as if they might burst. She struggles, gasping for breath, then her body goes limp and her head drops. ‘Weird, must have been something outside.’ Ulva carries on talking but I barely hear her. I want to shout and point at the dead girl hanging from her bedroom ceiling, but I don’t. I want to look away, but I can’t. How horrific it must have been to fall from the trapeze. Nina has put me and Mum through so much, but there’s no anger inside me now. All I feel is a gnawing sense of pity. If only there were something I could do, some way I could help her.
‘You OK? Martha?’ Ulva touches my arm and I nod without turning my head.
Nina’s eyes snap open. She looks at me pleadingly, as if I’m the only one who can save her, and I hold her gaze, silently promising to get justice for her. And then she vanishes. I rest a hand on my chest and try to calm my nerves, and that’s when I notice it. Under Ulva’s bed is an open shoebox, with a gold catsuit inside it.
Coldness blooms in the pit of my stomach. I know it’s hers. Nina wanted me to find it, that’s why she appeared. I turn to Ulva, my heart racing.
‘Actually, could I use your toilet, please?’
She points to her right. ‘Sure, it’s just there.’
I watch as she walks into the kitchen and turns on the tap. Now’s my chance. I slip into her bedroom and pull the door closed. My blood pounds in my ears. I don’t stop to catch my breath or ready myself. I drop to my knees and pull out the box. Ignoring the photos, letters and jewellery, I grab the catsuit.
Impressions slam into me. Snatches of images and feelings jumbled up together. Nina is screaming at Stig outside the big top. Betrayal, jealousy, anger . . . each emotion stronger than the last.