Betrayal Page 12

  ‘Give me the phone.’

  ‘Who are you going to call?’

  ‘Annika.’

  He gave her the cordless phone and she glanced at the telephone list on the notice-board. Annika answered after the first ring.

  ‘Hi, it’s Eva.’

  ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘No, he didn’t get anything, he says.’

  There was silence on the line.

  Henrik sat as if paralysed, staring at the writhing snake on the screen.

  She was busy thinking of her next move. Then she smiled to herself, looked at the back of his head and began talking. Let each syllable stab into him like a knife.

  ‘I still think we ought to give Linda a chance to explain herself. I have a hard time believing she meant to send those emails, but the rumour will probably spread like wildfire. I think we should phone everyone and arrange a meeting at the day-care on Sunday evening. I can take care of it if you want.’

  She heard Jakob’s mother sigh on the other end.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes at that meeting.’

  If only you knew what she does with them off.

  ‘No, me neither. Really. But what else can we do? This way at least she’ll have a chance to explain.’

  Henrik still sat as if paralysed when she hung up.

  The back of his neck was flaming red from all those stabs.

  She fell asleep right away that night. The exhaustion took its toll, but at the same time she felt secure again. In complete control. Nothing could touch her. Everything was already destroyed.

  Plan A had gone to hell despite all her struggles in recent years. Now it was Plan B that mattered. She only needed to rethink it a bit. It was up to her if he succeeded in crushing her or not, her own choice. Not that she would ever give him the satisfaction. On the contrary, she would see to it that he paid for his betrayal, both financially and emotionally. She would crush him instead, and then when he was fully aware of what had happened it would be too late. Then he would be left standing there.

  Alone.

  She woke up when the phone rang. Automatically her eyes looked at the clock radio. Who the hell called people at 6.07 on Saturday morning? Didn’t she have any manners?

  She reached out for the cordless phone and answered before the second ring.

  ‘Hello.’

  Henrik turned over on his side with his back to her and slept on.

  Someone was breathing in her ear.

  ‘Hello?’

  No answer.

  She threw off the covers, got up and left the bedroom. In the office she closed the door behind her.

  ‘Did you want something? If so, it’s probably better to say what it is now that you’ve called and woken us up.’

  Utter silence. Yet she could hear that she was still on the other end.

  There was so much she had wanted to say. So many words screaming inside in the dark that wanted to get out. But she was forced to restrain herself, not reveal that she knew, otherwise she’d lose her advantage. Plan B would be ruined.

  ‘You can go to hell!’

  She hung up.

  It was impossible to go back to sleep. She crept in under the covers again and lay for a while staring at the ceiling. Axel cuddled up to her, moving his warm body closer. She turned over on her side and looked at his beautiful, peaceful face. The sudden pressure over her ribcage caught her unaware. She took a few breaths to try and relieve the pain, but the air refused to stay in her lungs. It forced its way out as if unable to stand being inside.

  She turned over on her back but the pain increased, radiating out into her left arm and forcing her to grimace. Don’t cry, steel yourself now! Think of something, try to concentrate on something else.

  Home. Metre by metre she moved through her childhood home, remembering every step on the stairs, the creak of each floorboard. The way the curved handle on the front door felt in her hand, the sound of Mamma’s and Pappa’s calm voices filtering up through the wooden floor in her room when she went to bed, the way the Bakelite light switch in the old servant’s bedroom always slipped back if you didn’t turn it round twice.

  And then the annihilating knowledge that her own son would never be able to quell his anxiety as an adult by remembering his safe childhood home. She had put so much energy into trying to create a home for him.

  He would scarcely remember that once they had been a complete family.

  Her failure was unforgivable.

  The punishment eternal.

  But she had no intention of carrying the blame alone.

  Eva.

  Her name was Eva.

  Why had she lied?

  Why had she gone home with him, given him access to her body, made him completely and without reservation admit her into his life, allowed him to reveal himself to her?

  He lay on his back in bed and stared up at the ceiling, lay in the bed where they had made love. Where he had made love to her and she had used him, consumed him like an object. Utterly without consideration she had forced her way into his world, knocked over everything, stolen all the desire he had managed to preserve so long and with such great effort.

  She was one of them.

  One of the women who ruined his family and took his mother away from him.

  The strength he thought she had given him had in three letters been transformed into a place vulnerable to attack, an undefended hole leading straight into his deepest fear. The fear whose only equal opponent was the control. His own means of defence.

  Like a physical attack he felt the compulsion boring into him. There was nothing left that could withstand it.

  He had been so strong only a few hours ago.

  Who was this woman, who had claimed the right to inflict this on him?

  He had already looked up the phone number in the book.

  She lived in Nacka.

  A ten-minute drive.

  But it was impossible for him to leave the flat.

  The first time he dialled the number it was 11.44 at night. He was sitting naked on the bed and the phone stood at a right angle to the right corner of the rug. It rang twice. And then her voice gave sound to the lie.

  ‘Eva.’

  So she confessed.

  He hung up and felt the rage rising. And then a quick push of the redial button.

  ‘Yes.’

  He hung up again. Why had she answered ‘Yes‘ when he called? Her voice cut through him, awakened the devastating longing to live. The memory of her nakedness forced all the blood to his groin, where his desire grew. He lay back on the bed, unable to move. The urge was again an enemy that rose up to mock him and laugh at him.

  You are not worthy. No one wants you.

  Maybe he slept for a few hours, maybe not.

  The next time he called, it was seven minutes past six.

  He had to hear her voice.

  ‘Hello.’

  He had to.

  ‘Hello?’

  No one was going to take this away from him.

  ‘Did you want something? If so, it’s probably better to say what it is now that you’ve called and woken us up.’

  He stopped breathing.

  Woken us up.

  Now that you’ve called and woken us up.

  ‘You can go to hell!’

  On the other end she hung up. She, who the night before had slept with her skin against his, she who had opened the world to a possibility, turned everything into anticipation.

  Last night she had slept with someone else who was called us.

  Who?

  Who was the one who was worthy?

  She stayed in bed all morning. When Axel woke up, Henrik followed him out to the living room and turned on the children’s programme, but he hadn’t come back to bed to steal another hour of sleep as he usually did. Instead she heard the door to the office close and the sound of the computer booting up.

  The pain in her chest had subsided, only a vague ache was left.

  W
hen the digital numbers on the clock radio had progressed to a quarter to twelve, he suddenly stood in the doorway.

  ‘I’m going out tonight. Micke wanted us to go out for a beer.’

  She didn’t answer. Just confirmed that his inability to lie was astounding, a pure insult.

  ‘You do that.’

  Then he was gone.

  She got up, reached for her robe, and went into the kitchen. Axel was sitting on the floor rolling his rubber balls down an invisible course, and Henrik was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

  ‘I promised Annika I’d call round so we can have a meeting at the day-care tomorrow evening.’

  He looked up at her.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Well, what’s the alternative?’

  He ignored the question and went back to his paper.

  She continued.

  ‘If I were Linda, I’d want a chance to explain myself. Wouldn’t you?’

  If I were Linda.

  She silently scoffed.

  That was just it.

  He turned the page even though he hadn’t read a word.

  ‘I just don’t understand what you have to do with all this. Why do you have to organise a meeting? You didn’t get an email, did you?’

  No. But there’s a gun cabinet in my cellar full of disgusting love letters to you.

  ‘Because it’s Axel’s day-care teacher we’re talking about. You must realise that it will affect the situation at the day-care centre when this all comes out. If it’s true that she sent all those emails, would you have any confidence in her?’

  ‘It’s her own business, isn’t it?’

  ‘Her own business? Sending unwanted love letters to the children’s fathers?’

  ‘Did my day-care teacher do that?’ Axel was sitting still on the floor and weighing a light-green rubber ball in his hand.

  Henrik gave her a look full of contempt. Or was it pure hatred she saw?

  ‘Great. Just great.’

  He got up and left the room. By now she had learned how many steps it took. Eleven from his place at the table to his office, twelve if he took time to close the door behind him.

  This time it was twelve.

  ‘What about my day-care teacher?’

  She went over and sat down with Axel. Absentmindedly she took a red rubber ball from the floor and made it come out of his ear by magic.

  ‘Wow! And I thought you only had green balls in your ears!’

  He smiled.

  ‘Do I have any in the other ear?’

  She glanced quickly to the side to find another ball.

  ‘No. The one in there hasn’t finished growing yet. The green ones take a little longer to grow.’

  She took the cordless phone and the day-care list out on to the balcony and sat there making her calls. She had pulled a cardigan over her shoulders. It was warm for March, and after she had sat there a while she took off the cardigan and put it on the bench. She looked at the pylons that stuck up a few hundred metres away like futuristic steel wonders from the nature preserve. Nicke and Nocke, Axel had dubbed them as soon as he learned to talk. Although they were a conspicuous contrast to the woods, she had always liked them; they were always a landmark for home. She remembered a business flight from Örebro. The meeting that was the reason for the trip had raised insoluble problems, and she had climbed aboard the plane full of stress and tension. It was past ten at night, and soon after they took off she could see the masts far off in the distance. And she remembered the feeling of being so far away but still able to see home, to Henrik and Axel and everything that was safe. It was a moment of clarity about what was really important in life.

  But then the years had passed.

  Sixteen times she explained that Linda had emailed unwanted love letters to some of the fathers in the day-care group, and that they needed to have a meeting on Sunday evening. After her seventh call the phone managed to ring before she dialled the next number.

  ‘Hi Eva, it’s Kerstin at day-care.’

  She sounded sad. Sad and tired.

  ‘I just spoke to Annika Ekberg and heard that you two talked yesterday.’

  ‘Yes, she called me late last night.’

  There was a brief pause and all she heard was a deep sigh.

  ‘Linda is quite upset. She didn’t send those emails. We don’t know how it happened.’

  ‘No, I must admit I was quite shocked. I have a hard time believing it’s true. I mean that Linda would have an affair with any of the fathers at day-care. That’s a bit much.’

  She looked out over the garden and tried to find the words that were required to describe what she was feeling. A calm after having regained control. Like an invisible spider in a net that no one but she knew existed. At the same time she wondered what she needed the control for, where she was headed. A feeling of being totally present. The here and now was everything. The next breath, the next minute. Everything after that was impossible to imagine. A thick red line had been drawn with a marker in an imaginary datebook, and that line could never be erased. Never ever. The past and the future had been ripped apart and would never meet again. And she herself was in limbo in between.

  A sound made her turn her head. Out of the corner of her eye she had caught sight of something moving. Something big that quickly vanished behind the shed at the corner of the garden. In her life before the line in the datebook, she would have heeded the warning and gone out to pour blood meal on the most strategic spots, but now it made no difference. As far as she was concerned, the deer could eat up every hint of growth, each carefully nourished plant. Nothing would ever bloom again in this garden.

  ‘I heard that you suggested we should arrange a meeting tomorrow evening, and at first I was dubious but . . . There’s probably no other solution. I just don’t know how Linda is going to bear it. This will open up a lot of issues for her. She had a very hard time of it earlier, and that’s why she moved to Stockholm. It’s nothing we need to discuss in this case, but I did want you to know about it at least.’

  Another deep sigh.

  ‘I actually just called to ask you to stress, when you make your calls, that Linda is incredibly upset about all this, and that she did not send those emails.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Linda had a very hard time of it earlier, and that’s why she moved to Stockholm.

  Interesting. Extremely interesting. But whatever she had a hard time with, it apparently didn’t teach her to respect the lives of other people. No, divide and conquer, go straight into the shower and put down your earrings. Take whatever you want, you can’t be bothered if some family is destroyed.

  No, little Linda. You can sit there with your sad story. Your hard time is only beginning.

  On the other hand, it might be useful to find out what you were running away from when you moved to Stockholm.

  Henrik had already left by four o’clock. Dressed up and clean-shaven and in a cloud of aftershave he went off to have a beer with Micke. He had spent most of the afternoon in his office, but at regular intervals he had come out and restlessly wandered about the house. Like an animal in a cage. And she was the hated zoo-keeper, the one he was dependent on but who saw to it that his captivity was maintained.

  She put Axel to bed at eight and thankfully he went to sleep right away. The knowledge of who Henrik was with crept into her body, and nothing on TV could distract her from her fantasies. She wondered where they were, what they were doing, whether they were lying entwined together and whether he was cautiously consoling her. Giving her all the tenderness and love that once had been hers.

  Henrik and Eva.

  So long ago.

  How had it come to this? When had it reached the point that everything was suddenly too late?

  She was all alone. He had already found himself a new travelling companion to lean on, someone to whom he could calmly lay out the alternatives for the future. It was an intolerable feeling suddenly to be exchanged, rejected, repl
aced by someone who was apparently better at fulfilling his expectations from life. Which she had not been able to do. And not a word had he spoken about his disappointment. He didn’t even intend to show her respect by explaining, giving her a fair chance to understand what had actually happened.

  She turned off the TV and the room became black. She hadn’t even thought to turn on a lamp, although darkness had already fallen.

  She sat down in the easy chair in front of the picture window facing the balcony. It was black as coal outside. Not even the moon could manage to light up the garden she had declared dead. She turned on the reading lamp and reached for the book she had started reading before the line in the datebook. It lay unopened in her lap.

  It didn’t interest her any more.

  Had Linda had a chance to read the email she had sent? She had written the text herself, after all. Eva wondered how they would react when they saw the familiar words, what Henrik would think when he recognised Linda’s declaration of love that he kept behind lock and key in his gun cabinet. Maybe he would suspect something, but how could he ever dare ask? She smiled at the dilemma she had created for him. Well, Henrik, what are you going to do now? When your lawfully wedded, understanding wife and the mother of your son might possibly be your worst enemy.

  She looked at her reflection in the black windowpane. Linda’s words had taken up residence, uninvited, in her memory bank, burned their way in like a disfiguring tattoo. She knew that they would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  I realise that I am ready to lose everything as long as I can be with you. I love you, your L.

  To be allowed to be so loved.

  To be allowed to be as loved as Henrik was.

  She wondered how he had answered that letter. Whether he suddenly found words that he had never used before, never had any occasion to use. Words which during their entire marriage had been biding their time because they weren’t needed. Words that were too big, too strong and powerful, exaggerated even, but that were finally given the opportunity to break free and be put to use.

  To help him maintain and preserve what he had found.

  To be allowed to be so loved.