methods? This is what it means to be shrewd, he realised, and now there was a time and a place for it.
He tiptoed into the living room. His heart began to pound, but she was clearly on a different planet, he could not even hear her breathing. Then he got hold of the collar of her jacket and pulled it carefully towards him. First he tried the left pocket, but there was nothing but fluff. Then he eased his hand into the right pocket and there it was. His key. He snatched it and put it in his trouser pocket and he instantly felt like a thief. He replaced the jacket on the floor and went back to the kitchen. I had no idea I could be this devious, he thought, amazed. Soon she'll wake up and rub her eyes. Then she'll ask me for money and then she'll leave. Still thinking that the key is in the pocket of her jacket. Two to three days will pass and then she'll return, but she won't be able to let herself in. There'll be trouble, he thought anxiously, what am I going to do if she starts hammering on the front door with her fists, what will the neighbours say? He started to worry, unable to live with what he had done. Perhaps it was best if she had her own key anyway? Then he became massively irritated at his own indecisiveness, he was perfectly entitled to retrieve his key.
He whisked the eggs with a fork and added salt and pepper to the mixture. He poured the eggs into a frying pan, and they started to congeal instantly. He grated some cheese and sprinkled it onto the eggs, he sliced some bread and buttered it. When the meal was ready he carried it into the living room. Again he looked at the syringe and the tube. He felt ill at ease. Something like that was dangerous, he knew, the papers wrote all sorts of things about infection, and here he stood with his freshly cooked food which he was just about to eat. He rushed back out into the kitchen and found a pair of Marigold gloves, pulled them on and went over to the coffee table. Picked up the tube and the syringe, went over to the bin under the worktop and dropped them into it. Finally he could breathe more easily and he went over to eat. He switched on the television and still she did not stir. Where are you now? he wondered, and looked at her blonde hair. In some kind of paradise? A place free from hurt, worries and discomfort? A place with no concept of time, no pain? A place where you float? Perhaps it's like being in warm water, the light is low and the silence complete. Soon she would wake up and then what would happen? He ate quietly, taking care to breathe steadily and calmly the whole time; unless he focused on his breathing, he would whip himself into a state of frenzy within seconds. When he had finished he clinked his cutlery a little to see if she would react. She did. She rolled quietly onto her back and faced him. Her eyes were black.
'Hi,' she said softly.
He did not reply. He was not sure whether she was present in the same way he was, and if she wasn't then there would be no point in trying to have a conversation with her.
'Christ, I'm so thirsty,' she said, 'do you think you could get me a glass of water?'
She brushed her hair away from her face with a drawn look.
He looked at her, but still did not reply. He carried out his plate and cutlery, found a glass in the cupboard and got some water from the tap for her and carried it back. She sat up on the sofa, grabbed the glass and drank greedily; he could hear how the water glugged down her narrow throat.
'Your neighbour,' she said eventually, 'he's a very bad-tempered man.'
Alvar looked at her.
'He started asking questions when I was outside. As if it's any of his business what we get up to.'
Are we getting up to anything? Alvar wondered.
'He told me you were out,' she went on, 'and I told him I had my own key. You should have seen the look he gave me. As if I was a piece of rubbish someone had thrown on his lawn.'
'You can't bring your drugs in here,' Alvar said abruptly.
She looked up. Suddenly she looked sulky.
'No, I suppose you would prefer it if I sat in a doorway and shot up for everyone to see.'
He could think of no answer to that.
'But,' he objected, 'I don't want to get mixed up in anything like that.'
She drained her glass and slammed it down on the coffee table. 'You're not mixed up in anything,' she stated irritably. 'I don't row with you, I don't make you take drugs, do I?'
'No.'
'So what are you whingeing about?'
'Well,' he whimpered, 'I don't mean to whinge. But it makes me a little nervous.'
'That's because you're a sissy,' she declared.
'But, Rikke!' he moaned.
'Rikke?' She gave him a baffled look.
'I've got some cash for you,' he said before he could stop himself. 'Six hundred kroner. You can have it, but then you have to do this somewhere else. I make this a condition,' he said, his voice getting louder. He instantly felt his strength return.
Her jaw dropped.
'You're blackmailing me,' she said, hurt. 'You know I'm desperate and now you're putting pressure on me.' She buried her face in her hands. He thought he could hear her snivelling. Her slender shoulders jolted.
'But you have your room?' he said. 'Isn't that right?'
'I don't have a room,' she sobbed.
'But then where do you sleep?' he exclaimed.
'Here, there and everywhere,' she cried. 'Surely you can understand that people in my line of work don't have all the stuff that normal people have. A bed. Food. A regular pay cheque. I've got none of those.'
He scanned her face for tears, but found none.
'I don't think I'm asking for much,' she said, 'and I don't know what your politics are, but I thought you were a decent person.'
'Of course, I'm a decent person,' Alvar said. 'Look here.' He got out his wallet. 'Here's some money.'
She snatched it as swiftly as she always did and scrunched it up in her hand.
'If you cut me off then I'll have no one,' she said in tears. 'You know I'm going straight to hell and it would have been nice to have some company for the last bit of the journey.'
'You're not going to hell, are you?' he asked, perturbed.
'Don't be so bloody naive!' she screamed.
'Hush!' he said quickly. 'You mustn't shout, not in here!'
His heart had started pounding again. He found it unbearable when people shouted, his whole body shrank.
'I don't think you've got it in you,' she claimed, looking defiant. She got up from the sofa and ran her fingers through her hair. She stumbled then regained her balance.
'But I'm going to go now and leave you in peace. Pour yourself a sherry, Alvar, let yourself go a little, why don't you?'
She picked up her jacket from the floor; Alvar's heart skipped several beats. In the distance he thought he could hear the faint roll of drums slowly getting louder. She put on her jacket, buttoned it and quickly brushed herself down. Then she stuck her hands in her pockets and Alvar held his breath. She searched for a while, then her eyes widened.
'The key,' she said dully. For a moment she looked confused. Alvar froze.
'The key, it's gone.' She looked at him with disbelief and anger. Then she exploded.
'You've pinched it!' she shouted. 'You've pinched my bloody key!'
Alvar felt as if he was being melted down and poured away, his cheeks were burning hot.
'I see.' She folded her arms across her chest, her face hardened. 'So you've finally shown your true colours, it took you long enough. So this is what all your supposed goodness boils down to. You were just faking, you were just pretending to be a good person. You're the most deceitful person I've ever met. The most cowardly, the most devious!'
Alvar started to shake in his armchair.
'You're just as bad as all the others,' she went on, her voice jarring. 'You'll open your door to some sorry creature, but that's all. That's fine by me, I'll get out of your way once and for all and you'll never see me again. I'm going to get myself another hit, a big one, which will make me forget this bloody shithole which is all this world really is!'
'No. No!' Alvar screamed, getting up from his chair. 'Don't say things like that! Look, look, here is the key.' He pulled it out of his trouser pocket. 'I don't mind you coming here, I really don't; I'm not going to throw you out,
