Betrayal (26 page)

The last time. The nervousness she felt and how she had pressed herself against him to conceal it. How the images of Henrik and Linda had made her conquer her distaste.

Five days ago.

She stopped inside the door, heard him stick a key in one of the locks and turn it. And then the rattle of the keyring to lock the others and the rustle of the plastic bag he had taken out of the boot.

And she suddenly recalled that he thought her name was Linda. That her camouflage back then had made her brave enough to fulfil her intentions.

If only she hadn’t.

Yet another one.

But now there was no reason why she should reveal her real name. It would just provoke questions that she didn’t want to answer.

‘Welcome. Welcome back, I should say.’

She wasn’t back. The woman who stood before him was here for the first time.

She looked down at her shoes as if it were an impossible task to bend down and take them off. He followed her gaze, knelt down and carefully pulled down the zippers on the inside of her ankles. He placed her hand on his shoulder so she could lean on him as he pulled off her shoes. He held her right foot in his hand for a moment too long, and she could suddenly hear his breathing. She couldn’t put up any resistance, just stood there with her hand on his shoulder and let him hold her right foot. She shouldn’t be here. She ought to leave. But where could she go? And how could she find the energy?

He stood up, gently touched her elbow, led her into the little kitchen and sat her down on one of the chairs. She watched him take two steps over to the refrigerator and caught a glimpse of its contents when he opened it. All three shelves filled with recumbent cider bottles. He took out two, pulled his key chain
out of his pocket, and opened them with a red bottle opener squeezed in between the keys. Then he stood with the bottles in his hands, cocked his head to one side and looked at her.

‘How are you doing, anyway?’

She couldn’t say a word.

‘I don’t have a sofa, but you can sit on the bed in there instead. I mean if you want to be a bit more comfortable, that’s all. You look like you need a rest. I can sit on the floor.’

‘I’m fine here.’

He sat down on the chair on the other side of the fold-down table, leaned forward and handed her one of the bottles of cider.

‘Cheers. Once again.’

He smiled and she raised the bottle and drank.

‘That’s the kind you like, isn’t it?’

She read the label on the bottle. Couldn’t tell if this one tasted either better or worse than those she had tasted before.

‘Sure.’

‘Imagine running into each other again like this. It’s really too wild to be just a coincidence, it almost feels like it means something, as if it was fate.’

She couldn’t come up with any good answer but smiled a little so she wouldn’t seem rude.

For a while they sat in silence. Then he got up and went over to the small kitchen counter, picked up the dishrag and wiped off the stainless steel surface. He rubbed it intently and kept checking to see whether the spot was gone.

‘Can you tell me what happened?’

He rinsed out the dishrag and wrung it out, rinsed
it again and repeated the procedure one more time before he folded it in thirds and hung it over the tap.

‘Why you’re out walking without a jacket, for example, and where you were going?’

He straightened the dishrag and moved it a few centimetres out on the tap.

She took a gulp from the bottle.

‘If you don’t mind, I just can’t talk about it.’

She had no obligations to him. No duty to share anything with him. On the contrary. If she told him, the free zone she had found would be eradicated, he would join the jury and judge her.

Linda in intensive care. If she pulls through we’re going to ask her to keep working here.

If she pulls through.

She took another drink, looking for respite in intoxication.

He stood completely still with his back to her. Then he suddenly turned around.

‘You can take a bath if you like.’

She didn’t answer, but felt her suspicions awaken at once.

He put down the bottle on the table.

‘You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll run the bath for you and sit out here and relax. I think it would be nice for you to take a bath; you of all people certainly deserve to rest a little.’

Then he was gone, and she heard the sound of running water.

She had no intention of taking off her clothes in the flat, but in the bathroom she could lock herself in and then she wouldn’t have to answer any questions. Wouldn’t have to talk at all. And she’d have a
chance to think. Maybe she could ring Sara or Gerd at work and ask if she could stay overnight, figure out some plausible explanation.

His voice from the bathroom and then suddenly the familiar aroma.

‘I’ve bought new bubble bath too. Eucalyptus.’

The same that she had in her bathroom at home. Which was a present from Axel. She took it as a sign, gave up struggling and allowed herself to relax.

He had good intentions.

And that’s what she needed right now.

She took the last gulp from the bottle and heard the water turned off in the bathtub. Then he appeared in the doorway.

‘Your bath is ready.’

He smiled and gestured towards the bathroom, but noticed that her bottle was empty. At once he was at the refrigerator to fetch a new one. She stood up, and he made a move to touch her forearm to lead her once again, but he caught himself and withdrew. Perhaps out of consideration, perhaps he wanted to show that she was safe, that he had no ulterior motives.

She took the new bottle and went into the hall towards the open bathroom door. The bathtub was filled to the brim and the white bubbles were crackling invitingly. Her mood was improving. She could use a little rest.

‘Here’s a towel for you.’

He handed her a light-blue bath towel. Carefully folded, edge to edge, to the last centimetre. She took it and put it on the toilet seat. The towel reluctantly unfolded but the creases left deep traces in the
terrycloth. She turned to him. He was standing in the doorway. She made no move to start undressing, and he clearly understood her unspoken demand.

‘Enjoy yourself now, and don’t hurry. Take all the time you want.’

‘Thank you.’

He backed out and pulled the door shut; she turned the lock until the white half-moon turned to red. Then she slowly took off her clothes and sank down through the foam with the bottle on the edge of the tub. A calm began to spread over her. The cider had done its job.

It was Nacka that was the problem. She had to get away. She could already sense how she felt free having left the boundaries of the town. Here she could breathe again. She could think clearly enough to realise that even if she had done wrong, the guilt was not hers alone. There was a reason for her actions. What if they sold the house and she moved into the city, let Axel start at a new pre-school where no one knew them?

She took another gulp.

Things would work out. There was still a future.

‘Is the bath nice?’

His voice just outside the door.

‘Yes, it is. Thanks.’

Just when she thought he had left, he said something else. He sounded even closer now, as if his mouth were right next to the crack in the door.

‘I don’t mean you any harm, on the contrary. You know that, don’t you?’

A pang of uneasiness in the midst of the soothing bath foam.

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

She had just settled back again and closed her eyes when she heard the sound. She turned her head and saw the red half-moon turn until it was white, and the next moment he was standing in the open doorway. She sank down as deep as she could to cover herself with the bubbles.

‘I would like to be left in peace in here, please.’

He smiled at her.

‘You are at peace in here.’

He picked up the bath towel and placed it on his lap as he sat down on the toilet seat.

‘I mean alone.’

He smiled again, sadly this time, as if she didn’t know what was good for her.

‘Haven’t you been alone long enough?’

She suddenly felt afraid. Wanted to get up and leave the flat. But not as long as he could see her.

‘Why do you look so scared? I already know how beautiful you are. You’ve already showed me once, and how could I ever forget?’

‘I said that we were just going to drink a pear cider.’

‘That’s right. And now we’ve drunk two of them. And you can have just as many as you like. I bought them for you.’

There was nothing threatening about him, he radiated nothing but genuine goodwill. And yet there was something that told her she ought to get out of here, get away as fast as she could.

‘Wait a minute and I’ll give you something beautiful to wear after you’re done with your bath.’

He stood up.

‘That’s not necessary, I’ll wear my own clothes.’

‘You’re worth something more beautiful than those.’

He snatched up her clothes and took the bath towel with him as he vanished into the hall. As quickly as she could, she got up and grabbed the guest hand towel. She had to get out of here. The bath foam slid around on her skin as if the hand towel were waterproof.

Then he was back in the doorway.

She tried to hide herself as best she could.

He stopped in mid-stride and stood there quite still. As if he had forgotten she was in there and now he saw her for the first time. Embarrassed, he lowered his eyes when he saw her nakedness.

‘Excuse me.’

‘Give me the towel.’

With infinite slowness his gaze moved closer and closer. Along the floor and across the bath mat, then up the bathtub, across tile after tile his eyes made their way towards her. When they reached her naked body which she was so desperately trying to hide behind the tiny towel, she saw undisguised admiration in his face. A gasp when his eyes reached her thighs and slowly swept across the towel to meet the skin again above her breasts.

‘God, how beautiful you are.’

His voice was shaking.

‘Give me the towel!’

Her sharp words jolted his gaze away and he again stared down at the floor. Then he put something down on the toilet seat, backed out and closed the door behind him.

She quickly got out of the tub and tried to dry herself as best she could.

‘Give me my clothes!’

‘It’s on the toilet seat.’

She jumped at the closeness of his voice, his mouth sounded like it was pressed against the door outside.

She snatched whatever it was he had put on the seat. Never in her life. Lined and made of a glossy fabric with tufts in the most worn places.

An old flowery dressing gown.

‘I want my clothes!’

‘Do you have to sound so angry? They’re soaking in the sink. Put on the dressing gown now and come out, then we’ll talk about all this.’

His voice was still very close to her.

There was something wrong with him, she had no doubt about that. But how dangerous was he, how scared did she need to be? All she knew with certainty was that she wanted to get out of here, and now she had no clothes. And no one in the entire world would be looking for her. And even if someone actually was trying to find her, nobody knew where she was. She had to leave the bathroom. Go out and talk to him. But to ‘talk about all this’ seemed like a contradiction. They had absolutely nothing to do with each other, and that’s precisely what she had to make him realise.

Disgusted, she looked at the dressing gown. There was a brown ring of dirt around the inside of the collar. Then she managed to get the better of her repugnance and put it on, trying to ignore the odour of age-old filth and a musty wardrobe.

She put her hand on the door handle and took a deep breath.

‘I’m coming out now.’

Not a sound was heard from outside.

She cautiously opened the door a crack. It was dark out there, the hall light was turned off. Out of pure impulse she turned off the bathroom light so she could disappear in the darkness. She opened the door a bit more and when she looked out she saw the glow of a candle from the room. She cast a glance at the front door, well aware that she had heard the keys being turned in all four of the locks. Keys that now lay in the pocket of his trousers.

She took a step towards the candlelight. Everything was quiet. Then she stopped. One more step and she would be visible to him through the doorway. The sudden sound of his voice made her jump.

‘Come.’

She didn’t move from the spot.

‘Please, come. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

‘What is it you want? Why can’t I have my clothes?’

‘Of course you’ll get your clothes, but they’re wet right now. Come in here and we can talk a bit while they dry.’

What choice did she have? She took the last step and looked into the room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. From her feet in the doorway where she stood and over to his feet by the bed, an avenue of votive candles. A planned path along the floor which all too obviously visualised his expectations. She was just about to protest and explain that no matter what had happened the last time she was there, it was never going to happen again. But then she saw his face and stopped short. It wasn’t her he was looking at, not her eyes he sought. He was looking at the flowered
dressing gown. And suddenly, utterly without warning, his face was distorted in a grimace and his whole body shrank, collapsed. He looked away and she saw that he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. Her confusion was absolute. What was it he actually wanted?

She didn’t say a word. Just stood there in the doorway watching him, and his whole bearing revealed a failed attempt to defend himself from her unwelcome stare. He sobbed a couple of times and sat looking down at the floor, rubbing his hand over his face. Then he hesitantly glanced at her again, timid and embarrassed.

‘Forgive me.’

She didn’t reply. She realised in the midst of it all that the room had changed. The walls were bare but with black dots from the nail holes where the strange paintings had hung.

He looked down at the floor and the votive candles again.