Can't we?'
'Yes, of course,' he said, still upset by everything that had happened.
'So, you're saying we're cool?' she repeated.
'Yes,' he whispered, 'we're cool.'
She was silent. For several long seconds. Then her voice sounded bright and cheerful again.
'That's all right then,' she said, relieved. 'So I'll just have a quick shower and I'll be off.'
She marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Alvar was still leaning against the wall. Then he tried to stagger over to his armchair. His knees continued to tremble, his heart was starting to calm down, but the pain in his chest still scared him. I'm going to cause a scene, he thought, perhaps I'll collapse and I'll be discovered by a drug addict, lying face down on the floor, no pulse, not breathing. He collapsed into his armchair and clung to the armrests; he could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Now he had really been pushed over the edge. What's your problem? she had asked him. Well, what was his problem, why did his own will evaporate like mist before the sun, whenever it was confronted with another person's determination? An eternity later he heard her turn off the water and then a few minutes of silence followed. She came back out again, bright and cheerful, smiling broadly.
'I feel much better now,' she said running her fingers through her hair, which ended up sticking out all the same. She looked at him and pursed her lips.
'Have you still not got your act together?'
Alvar was afraid to look her in the eyes. 'Of course,' he coughed, but his voice told a different story.
'I need to go out,' she said and headed for his bedroom where she had left the grey jacket she always wore.
'I need another shot,' she declared, 'I'm starting to crave it. In here.' She put her hand on her chest. 'You got any money for me?'
'No,' he said without thinking.
She froze. Then she gawped at him.
'Really? You don't have any money?'
'No,' he said for the second time. The word felt foreign, but also liberating.
'You're telling me that you have spent everything that you own? You're skint? Your bank account has been cleared out and your savings have gone?'
He pressed his lips together. Refused to reply.
'You're lying,' she said fiercely. 'Of course you've got money. But if you don't want to give it to me, then that's another matter, so why don't you just tell me? Didn't we promise each other that we would be honest?'
He lowered his head. He could not fight this creature and her logic; he could not find the words or the strength. Wearily he went out into the hall where his coat hung. He found his wallet, opened it and took out the notes.
'Six hundred,' he muttered and went back. She instantly snatched them from him.
'You're a star!' she declared and kissed his cheek. She went out into the hall. 'And I'll take one of the keys for the new lock. If that's all right with you.'
Alvar was gobsmacked. He could not believe his ears; she spoke these words so casually that it took his breath away.
He ran out into the hall; she already had her hand in the key cupboard.
'You can't just help yourself like that,' he stammered and yanked the key from her. In the confusion he accidentally scratched her hand. Her eyes bored into him. Her jaw dropped.
'This is my flat,' he continued, 'and I need to have some control over who comes and goes here.'
'But you never get any visitors,' she argued.
'All I'm saying,' he said feeling like a complete idiot, 'is that I would like to be in charge of my own home.'
'But you are, aren't you?' she objected with big, wide eyes. 'All I'm doing is sitting on the sofa while you get on with whatever you're doing.'
'Yes, but you know, a key,' he said, 'a key might get lost, I need to have a certain amount of control.'
Her head dropped to her chest, an ominous silence followed.
Alvar had to look down too while he struggled to find the words.
'It's nice that you pop in every now and again,' he said cautiously. 'But there needs to be some order. And you know, you don't give a key to just anyone. Only to close friends.'
That was when she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.
'So I'm not a close friend?' she said pitifully. Her lower lip quivered. 'I'm an unwanted friend, is that what you're saying?'
'No, no,' he protested fiercely, 'but we don't know each other all that well. Not yet.'
She tilted her head as she considered this. 'So what you're saying is that after a while when we know each other better, then I can have a key?'
He was struggling to keep up with her, let alone be ahead.
'Yes,' he shrugged. 'Something like that.'
'How much time are we talking about?' she asked him directly.
Again he shook his head in confusion.
'So how long does it take before two people have become good friends?' she insisted.
'Well, that depends, I'm not really sure, I don't have a lot of experience,' he admitted.
'I think of you as a friend,' she said quietly. She lowered her head gain. 'But I was wrong.' She turned away from him, turned her back on him. 'I always end up getting rejected,' she whispered, hurt.
'But I'm not rejecting you,' he assured her, 'I'm just saying that I need more time!'
'That's easy for you to say. You're not going down the drain like me and I haven't got time. This might be the last time you ever see me!'
He took one step forward. He raised one hand and wanted to place it on her shoulder, but he was afraid.
'Now don't be like that,' he comforted her, 'I'm sure you'll be all right, you always are.'
'You might end up regretting saying those words,' she said. 'People like me drop dead all the time. You know that, we're at risk. You'll probably just breathe a sigh of relief, lock your door and lie down on your sofa and forget all about me.'
'Oh no,' he said quickly. 'Not at all, don't think like that. I'd be beside myself if anything happened to you, I really mean that.'
'So you do care about me a little?' she said softly.
'Of course,' he said firmly.
'But not enough?'
'What do you mean?'
'Not enough to give me a key?'
Alvar went totally quiet. It dawned on him that he had run out of words, that he would never win this battle. So he held out his hand and gave her the new key. She instantly closed her fingers and gripped it. A second later the front door slammed.
He stayed in his armchair for a very long time.
The television was droning on in the background, but he did not even notice it. She is like a pebble in my shoe, he thought, every single step I take hurts. She is like burdock, you cannot pull it off without hurting yourself, she is like an itch that gets worse and worse. She spreads likes a disease, she grows like a tumour, she makes me want to scream. His vicious thoughts frightened him. He was not a violent man, not at all. He was angry with her, but his anger instantly ricocheted back on himself. He felt faint when he thought about his own incompetence. He would never hit her, he did not know how to argue, he had never been taught how and he never felt the desire. And yet he could still feel pressure building up inside his chest. He listened carefully to it. Yes, it was a roar, there could be no doubt. He had never heard himself roar and he was terrified of letting it out. He imagined a wild animal in there baring its teeth, hurling itself against the bars of its cage, desperate to get out. Then he started to sob. It was a dry, pathetic sob and it made him crumple as he sat there in his armchair. Alvar Eide is sobbing, he thought, my life has become so dramatic that I have lost my self-control. He dried his tears, but he was unable to get up from his chair. A sherry, he thought, that's what I need to calm my nerves. He pulled himself together and made himself go into the kitchen to get the bottle. His hands were shaking, the tears were flowing. He felt like a nervous wreck.
