Växjö’s silent aria - Part 01 #novelette by Thanos Kalamidas

 

The air in Växjö was crisp. Golden leaves swirling in the autumn wind as Anna Karlsson stepped out of the sleek black taxi. Despite her age, she exuded the kind of elegance that could silence a room. Her perfectly tailored coat brushing against the cobblestone driveway of the Elite Stadshotellet. As one of the receptionists recognizing her hurried to assist her, she tilted her head slightly, her signature smile flashing briefly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice still carrying a melody that once captivated audiences across Europe.

Inside the lobby, Anna scanned the room. Her expression softened as she spotted Alma Hansson seated under a painting picturing the street outside a century back. Alma rose to her feet, her warm smile spreading across her face as she embraced her old friend.

“Anna! It’s been too long,” Alma said, pulling back to examine her friend. “You look...”

“Older,” Anna interrupted, laughing lightly. “But so do you. Don’t deny it.”

Alma rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t have the luxury of designer gowns and a fanbase to keep me motivated. Come, let’s sit. You must be tired.”

They settled into plush armchairs, and a waiter promptly brought over a bottle of wine. Anna raised an eyebrow.

“Still the hostess, I see,” she said, lifting her glass. “To old friends and new beginnings.”

“To old friends,” Alma echoed, though she couldn’t help but notice the faint tremor in Anna’s hand as she raised her glass.

Later and after Anna had the time to refresh Alma returned for an early dinner together. Over dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, Anna seemed radiant, yet Alma sensed an undercurrent of sadness. Between bites of seared lamb and sips of Burgundy, Anna began to open up, though her stories were tinged with a bitterness Alma hadn’t seen before.

“You know,” Anna said, swirling the wine in her glass, “they called me ‘The Nightingale of Stockholm.’ Sold-out performances, standing ovations… But none of that matters when the lights go out.”

Alma frowned. “You don’t believe that, do you? You had a career most people only dream of.”

Anna smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And what did it bring me? A failed marriage, a fortune siphoned away, and…well, let’s just say I’ve made some questionable decisions since.”

“Magnus,” Alma said softly, testing the waters.

Anna’s grip on her glass tightened. “Magnus. The great love of my life and the reason I’ll die penniless. He’s the past now. Good riddance.”

Before Alma could press further, Anna’s demeanour shifted. She leaned back, flashing a mischievous grin. “Enough about me. Tell me about your life, Alma. Still happily married to the dashing Polisinspektör?”

“Dashing, yes. Happily married…most days,” Alma replied with a chuckle. “Mikael’s work keeps him busy, but we manage.”

As the evening wore on, Anna’s wine refills became more frequent, her laughter louder, yet her gaze often drifted to the window as though expecting someone—or something.

It was past midnight when Alma returned home to find Mikael still awake, reviewing case files at the dining table.

“How was your evening with the diva?” he asked, smirking.

“Complicated,” Alma admitted, slipping off her coat. “Anna’s…different. She’s carrying something heavy, Mikael. I can feel it.”

“Secrets and drama,” Mikael teased. “Isn’t that every opera singer’s brand?” Alma shot him a look. “I’m serious. She’s been through a lot. Magnus, her career, and something else she wouldn’t talk about. I don’t know…” She trailed off, glancing at the clock.