‘All right, that’s enough! I put it out on the bed for you. I’ve already seen it and that disgusting lock of hair. How old is he, anyway? Did you exchange lockets too? How sweet if you went around with a little golden lock of hair round your neck from now on.’
He held up the black lace bra and waved it in front of her face.
‘I presume he gets turned on when you wear this, although I can’t see why.’
She stood mute. Had he completely lost his mind?
He slammed the drawer shut and left the room. She caught up with him in the doorway to the living room, where he suddenly stopped.
‘You’re really sick in the head.’
He sounded like he really meant what he said, and she followed his gaze. On the coffee table stood the vase with the green stalks in it. The roses themselves had vanished without a trace. Cut off and removed.
Now it was her turn to snort.
‘That’s really going too far. You could have saved yourself the trouble, I didn’t want them anyway.’
He turned his head and looked at her with an expression as if she were utterly mad.
The phone rang. Neither of them made a move to answer it. It rang and rang, and they stood like statues, ignoring the phone.
‘Let it ring.’
He turned at once and went to the phone in the kitchen. As if her words were a direct order to pick it up.
‘Yes, this is Henrik.’
Then there was silence. It went on so long that she walked over to look in the doorway. He was standing completely still with his mouth open, staring into space with the receiver pressed to his ear.
‘How is she doing then? Which hospital is she in?’
Suddenly nervous. His mother had had a bypass operation a few months ago. Maybe she had a relapse.
Then he turned his head slowly and looked at her. Fixed his eyes on her with a look so full of loathing and hostility that it scared her. Without looking away he kept talking.
‘You can tell her yourself.’
He held out the phone to her.
‘Who is it?’
He didn’t answer. Just continued hating her and held out the phone.
She went slowly over to him; there was a palpable sense of danger. He kept staring at her when she put the receiver to her ear.
‘Hello?’
‘This is Kerstin Evertsson from Kortbacken pre-school.’
Formal and impersonal. Someone she didn’t know. Or someone who preferred not to know her.
‘Yes, hi.’
‘I might as well get straight to the point. I’ve just told your husband that I know he and Linda Persson had a relationship which was terminated yesterday. I also told him that Asa Sandstrom received an anonymous letter with a newspaper article about Linda and that you were the one who put it in her mailbox. Asa saw you when you did it.’
Good God, let me disappear. Let me not have to go through this.
‘Naturally I was obliged to call Linda and tell her this, even though I already knew all about the trial and everything else she had been through. But for Linda it was more than she could bear. She’s in intensive care at the Soder Hospital after slashing her wrists.’
She briefly met Henrik’s black look before she glanced away.
‘I also think you should know that the parents’ group has collected money for flowers and that they will be asking Linda to continue working here if she pulls through.’
She would never be able to show herself in public again.
‘I have to confess that I don’t really know how we should resolve the rest. For Axel’s sake, of course, it’s obvious that he should keep his place here, but I have to say it feels extremely difficult to keep you as clients. I’ll leave the decision up to you.’
Help me. Good God, help me.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it would be good if you got hold of Asa Sandstrom, because she wants to talk with you. She wants an explanation for why you involved her in all this. Because now everyone understands who sent all those emails too, which you claimed were from Linda. Surely you must see that Asa feels used and rightly so. She’s upset about this, to say the least.’
She couldn’t breathe.
This was intolerable.
‘As you can hear, I’m furious about what you’ve done, and I’d be lying if I said anything else. I can understand that it must have felt, well, I don’t know, bloody awful, when you realised that Henrik and Linda were having an affair, but that does not excuse what you’ve done. Here we work day after day to teach the children about right and wrong, and that one must always take responsibility for one’s actions. I thought I knew you, but obviously I don’t.’
Shame was a snare, growing tighter with each syllable. She was annihilated, deprived of all honour. She had to get away. Away from Nacka. Away from Sweden. Away from any chance of meeting anyone who might recognise her and know what she had done.
‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘They don’t know yet.’
She put down the receiver, forgetting to hang up. Henrik with his arms crossed. Hateful, hostile, and forever with right on his side.
Down the stairs.
Shoes. She remembered that you had to have shoes on when you went outside.
Not Varmdovagen. She had to stay on the side streets.
The houses surrounding her, the lamps lit in their windows, families just coming home, reunited after another work day. All of it just a decoration to punish her. Not for sale. Inaccessible. Henceforth you shall only look, never take part. You are banished from our community. Outlawed for all time, but remembered.
As if through a dirty filter she saw a car approaching, and she reached back to pull up her hood. Not be seen. The hood wasn’t where it was supposed to be. She looked down and noticed that her jacket too was missing. The car passed by. She had to go further, had to get away.
At first she didn’t notice the car creeping along next to her. Only noticed something white out of the corner of her eye. Then it drove past her and stopped. Someone got out.
‘Hi.’
A surprised voice that sounded glad.
Nobody could be glad to see her.
She stopped. Something familiar about the figure whose face was dimly lit by a street light.
‘Imagine meeting you here, do you live around here?’
Colourful pictures. The voice associated with abstract patterns.
‘How are you doing, anyway? Can I drive you somewhere?’
Everything empty. And then this person, sounding so worried for her sake, who still lowered himself to talk to her. Then she saw Daniel’s parents walking towards her farther down the street. Each carrying a briefcase. On their way home from the bus. Soon they would see her. Flowers for Linda. They knew what she had done and had contributed money for flowers for Linda today. No side street to escape into.
She went over to the passenger side and climbed in.
Just take me away from here.
Let me get out of meeting Daniel’s parents.
What could possibly be worse?
