Betrayal

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.

When 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 Orebro. 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.’