Good Night, My Darling

move up there together. A couple of us would move there, maybe Jenny, maybe Ann-Sofi. She’s from there herself; at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“The question is, what are the rest of us to do?”

“Oh, you’ll land on your feet just fine. You’ll be offered another job. You’re capable; people know that you’ve been editing that old witch Karlberg. That alone will get you an offer.”

“Oh there’s a real silver lining. I’ll be rid of her!”

What a strange weekend it had been. The worry about Curt Luding’s plans had been pushed away by that strange visit in Hasselby.

It was true, as Justine had said, that she had felt drawn to her former classmate’s house to see if anything had changed. If that poor girl had survived. She was practically filled with fear at the thought of running into Justine, but she had secretly hoped that Justine would be standing at the top of her stairs, thirty years older and strong at last. That she would be standing there in her wide, flowery pants and say: “Come on in.”

And then there she was! And did just that!

Berit had repressed all those events during her entire adult life. She had put it aside into her subconscious, but as she walked closer to the house, the whole thing returned to her like a tidal wave. She wanted to fall into the snow and scream, “Forgive me, Justine! We were just kids! Forgive us!”

They sat in the upstairs room with the view and drank glogg. They watched the sky change color and turn red and sparkle as if it were burning on the other side of Lake Malar. It was a cold, formal winter day and perhaps she blabbered on too much, revealed more than she ought to have. She was not used to talking to anyone for such a long time.

Justine. Just as she had always felt her to be.

But neither of them mentioned their childhood.

The great bird scared her from her senses. Berit was not afraid of birds; the boys had had parakeets, and she had enjoyed them, even though they always messed up the place. But this enormous being that suddenly just appeared. It surprised her; it set its claws deep into her hair and pulled.

“Just be still,” Justine soothed. “Just sit down and be still.”

Berit had become hysterical.

Justine had taken her by the shoulders and forced her back into the chair.

“He’s frightened, you see. With you screaming and thrashing about like that.”

Slowly, Justine worked the sharp, black claws from her head; she trembled from discomfort. She saw his sharp beak and she began to cry.

It was not like Berit Asarsson to cry.

“He was just a little curious…”

“He scared me half to death! Why do you keep a bird like that in the house!”

She pulled herself together and went out on the balcony to smoke. When she returned, the bird was sitting on top of the bookcase.

“What’s the deal with you? Are you pretending to be an Asa goddess? Is he like Odin’s birds Hugin and Munin?”

“An Asa goddess? Oh no, this isn’t a raven like them.”

“It sure looks like one.”

“Ravens are larger.”

Justine had warmed up the glogg again, filled Berit’s mug.

“How’s your clothes? Any bird poop?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m ashamed of myself, but that’s another story from our childhood, damn it all.”

She was able to go to the bathroom and clean off the worst of it. When she returned, Justine had lit a fire in the fireplace. “You must dry off before you go back out. It’s cold, well below zero.”

And Justine had patted her on the cheek and helped her sit down in the chair, wrapped a throw around her and gave her more to drink.

“Justine, I’m going to be totally smashed from all this.”

“Would it matter?”

“Fuck it all. I want to get plastered.”

They had sat there for a long time, and the fire was warming and she thought that it had been a very long time since she had felt so relaxed-and all this in spite of Curt Luding’s meeting for the beginning of next week. She felt as if she were dozing off and wished that someone would massage the soles of her feet while she was sitting there, and just as she felt the longing for it, Justine slid down to the floor and drew off her socks.

Justine’s hands were quick and warm; they kneaded and pressed.

“Oh how nice you are, Justine; what a great talent. Where did you learn massage?”

“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t study massage…”

“But you can really… oh, sweet Jesus, that feels wonderful.”

Justine kneaded up her calves, massaged and pulled.

“You are tense, Berit. What’s the matter? Things not going well for you?”

“Oh, I’m just fine, this, this is fantastic…”

“I don’t mean right now. Otherwise. With your life.”

Her face fell, forced back tears, sniffled.

“Some days it feels like everything is coming to an end,” she said huskily. “Don’t you sometimes feel like that?”

Her hands pushed down and worked in.

“You have a knot here, Berit, right in the middle of your footpad.”

“I know. I think that I’m always giving and giving and giving but never… anything in return. The boys, they’re not boys any longer, they’re all grown up, young men, handsome, devilishly handsome. They did their army stint and came back wearing the uniform of the crown. When I see them, whenever one of those few occasions occur where I see them, I can’t imagine that I really carried them, that they were growing in me and I gave birth to them during the pain of childbirth, that they nursed at my breast, that I’ve changed their diapers, and watched them grow… We can’t even talk to each other any more, Justine. Well, maybe we could if we had some time, if I were alone with them on a desert island and there were no other distractions, no one livelier than their old mom.”

“And your husband?”

“Oh, well… since it’s now just me and him again… it’s difficult. If you had been married and had children, you’d understand what I’m getting at. For many, many years, everything has been centered on the kids. You do your best to keep them safe from danger and temptation; your whole life revolves around being a good parent; you don’t have enough in you to be a good partner, too… not enough energy… too much work all day long… and then one day it’s all gone. The birds have flown the nest. So you sit there and stare at each other, man and woman, and have no idea how you’re supposed to act any longer.”

“What about taking a trip? Doing something fun?”

“We did that. Went around the world last year.”

“And?”

“I don’t know. Not the same guy I got engaged to, the one who admired me and wanted to make love over and over again on the very same day.”

“Well… what were you expecting?”

“Not this alienation at any rate. This alienation frightens me, scares me shitless.”

She was half-lying in the chair, sliding toward the floor. There was an ache behind her eyes from too much glogg, too much crying.

“Don’t you ever feel alienated, Justine? Are you content with your life?”

“I’m starting to be.”

“Starting to be? What do you mean, starting? In fact, you haven’t said anything about yourself. You just let me ramble on and on.”

“Not much to say.”

“Of course there is.”