Studio Sex aka Studio 69 / Exposed

Annika put down her book and looked up. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm broke.'

Patricia crossed her arms. 'Why don't you get a job then?'

Annika got up and they went out into the kitchen. The fridge was empty except for a tin of sardines.

'Shit. I phoned the Cherry Company but they had nothing until the spring.'

'Have you checked at the unemployment office?' Patricia asked.

'That horror show? Nope.'

'Maybe there's some journalist gigs out there.'

'I'm not a journalist anymore,' Annika replied curtly, pouring herself a glass of water. She sat down at the table.

'Well, why don't you come and work at the club?' Patricia sat down opposite her. 'We need a croupier.'

'I'm not working in a strip club!' Annika exclaimed, and emptied the glass.

Patricia raised her eyebrows and gave Annika a contemptuous look. 'You're that superior to Josefin and me, are you? It's not good enough for you?'

Annika felt her cheeks blush. 'I didn't mean it like that.'

Patricia leaned forward. 'We're not whores, you know. We're not even naked. I wear a red bikini- it's really nice. You've got big enough tits, you could have Josefin's. It's blue.'

Annika's cheeks deepened a shade. 'Are you serious?'

Patricia snorted. 'It's not that big a deal. But I've got to talk to Joachim first. Do you want me to?'

Annika hesitated. I'll get a chance to see where she worked, she thought. I'll get to know her boyfriend and boss. I'll be wearing her bra and panties.

The last thought made her crotch tingle, a feeling that filled her with both excitement and shame.

She nodded.

'Okay,' Patricia said. 'I'll put a note on the table if you're asleep when I get back.'

Then she left to go to work.

Annika sat at the kitchen table for a long time.

Nineteen Years, Five Months, and Two Days

There are no cheap insights. Experience is never sold short. When you buy it, the price always seems too high, impossible to pay. Yet we stand there with our credit cards, running our peace of mind into debt for years to come.

Eventually, when the accounts have been settled and the payments are behind us, we always think it was worth it. That's my comfort now, because I made up my mind today. I've understood what I have to do. I've fished out my plastic and cashed in my soul.

It came close yesterday. I can barely remember the reason; something he couldn't find and claimed I'd thrown away. It wasn't true, of course, and he knew it.

I know what I have to do. My back against the wall.

I have to confront him and I know it's going to come at a high price.

Because he says

he will never

let me go.

Thursday 6 September

The folded note lay on the kitchen table, the text consisted of two letters: OK.

Annika shuddered and swallowed, quickly throwing the note away. Sven entered the kitchen, naked and with tousled hair.

Annika had to smile. 'You look like a little boy.'

He kissed her softly. 'Are there any good places to run around here?'

'No tracks that are illuminated, but there are footpaths all around Kungsholmen where you can run.'

'Last man out is a monkey!' Sven rushed out into the hallway and into his jogging suit.

They raced each other the whole way. Sven won, of course, but Annika wasn't far behind. Then they made love in the basement shower, fervently but quietly so the whole backyard wouldn't hear.

Back up in the flat, Annika made coffee.

'My training starts next week,' Sven said.

Annika poured coffee into mugs and sat down opposite him at the table. 'I'll be staying here a while longer.'

Sven fidgeted.

'I've been thinking about something. It's silly for us to have one apartment each in Halleforsnas. We could rent a bigger one together, or buy a house.'

Annika got up and opened the fridge. It was as empty as it had been the night before. 'Do you think you could do some shopping? There's a market down on the square.'

'You're not listening to me.'

She sat down with a sigh. 'I am. But you're not listening to me. I'm going to stay here.'

Sven stared into his coffee mug. 'How long?'

Annika breathed for a few seconds. 'I don't know. At least a few more weeks.'

'What about your job?'

'I told you, I'm on leave.'

Sven leaned across the table and put his hand across hers. 'I miss you.'

She gave his fingers a quick squeeze, then got up and picked out the recycling from the cupboard under the sink. 'If you can't do the shopping, I'll do it.'

He got to his feet. 'You're not listening, damn it! I want us to move in together. I want to get married. I want us to have children.'

Annika felt her hands drop. She stared down at the cans. 'Sven, I'm not ready for any of that.'

He threw his hands out. 'What are you waiting for?'

She looked up at him, fighting to keep her cool. 'All I'm saying is that I want to finish off a project first. And it may take a while.'

He took a step closer to her. 'And I'm saying that I want you to come home. Now. Today.'

She put the last Coke can in the bag, the last drops splashing onto the floor. 'You're the one who's not listening now.' She left the kitchen. She got dressed and went down to the shop in Kungsholms Square. She didn't really like this place; it was cramped, confusing, and pretentious. The shelves were full of fancy little jars with umpteen different kinds of marinated garlic cloves. The staff frowned at her as she lugged the bags with cans and bottles to the deposit machines. She didn't care. She got enough deposit money to buy a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs.

The apartment was quiet and empty when she returned. Sven had taken off.

She found a bottle of cooking oil and a can of mushrooms in the kitchen cupboard, fried them up with three eggs, and made a big omelette. She sat staring out at the building opposite while she ate, then she lay down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

***

Patricia opened the door to Studio 69 with a key and by punching in a code on a code lock.

'You'll get your own key eventually,' she said over her shoulder.