Sacrifice (16 page)

‘Ha! If I ever write that book I'm going to put those words in it.'

Maj-Britt smiled. Vanja and her dreams of being a writer. With her whole heart Maj-Britt wished her all the luck in the world.

Vanja looked at her watch.

‘Just because I came up with such a good point, I have now made up my mind and I take this decision at twenty minutes to four on the fifteenth of June, nineteen hundred and sixty-nine. I'm moving to Stockholm. Then we can move at the same time, Majsan, even if it's not to the same city, and without me you certainly don't want to stay here in this hole of a town, do you?'

Both Göran and Maj-Britt laughed.

And when dawn came her confidence had returned. She had chosen correctly and they weren't going to be allowed to take this away from her. Her wonderful Vanja. Like a stone statue she was always there when Maj-Britt needed her. What would she have done if she hadn't been there?

Vanja.

And Ellinor.

Maj-Britt listened at the bathroom door. It was quiet in there. The pain in her back had subsided. Only a bearable ache remained. And an urgent need to go to the toilet.

‘I swear to God I don't know that Vanja.'

Maj-Britt snorted. Go ahead and swear. It doesn't matter to me. And probably not to Him either.

‘They're going to be calling for me soon, I was supposed to be with the next client more than half an hour ago.'

It didn't make any sense. She was never going to get the truth out of her. And soon she was going to wet herself. Maj-Britt sighed, turned round and opened the door. Ellinor was sitting on the toilet seat with the lid down.

‘Get out. I have to go to the toilet.'

Ellinor looked up at her and slowly shook her head.

‘You're crazy. What the hell are you up to?'

‘I have to pee, I said. Get out.'

But Ellinor stayed where she was.

‘I'm not moving until you tell me why you think I know her.'

Ellinor calmly leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, sitting there comfortably with her legs crossed. Maj-Britt gritted her teeth. If only she didn't feel such revulsion at the thought of touching her she would have slapped her. A hard slap across the face.

‘Then I'll pee on the floor. And you know who gets to clean it up.'

‘Go ahead and do it.'

Ellinor brushed something off her trouser leg. Soon Maj-Britt wouldn't be able to hold it any longer, but never in her life would she humiliate herself like this, not in front of that loathsome little creature who always managed to get the upper hand. And she definitely couldn't risk Ellinor discovering blood in her urine, then the little traitor would press the big alarm button. There was only one thing to do, no matter how much she hated the thought.

‘It was just something she wrote in a letter.'

‘In a letter? What did she write?'

‘It has nothing to do with you, can you move now?'

Ellinor stayed where she was. Maj-Britt was getting more and more desperate. She felt a few drops ooze out.

‘I must have misunderstood and I apologise for locking you in here. Okay, will you go now?'

Finally, Ellinor got up, took her bucket and with a
sour look went out the door. Maj-Britt hurried to lock it and sat down on the toilet as fast as she could, feeling the relief as her bladder was finally allowed to release the pressure.

She heard the front door close. Bye, Ellinor. We won't be seeing each other again.

Suddenly, utterly without warning, she felt a hard lump in her throat. No matter how she tried to swallow it, she couldn't. Tears came too; quite without cause they welled up over her eyelids, and to her horror she felt that she couldn't stop them. It was as if something were breaking inside her, and she hid her face in her hands.

A sorrow too heavy to bear.

Finally defeated, she was forced to acknowledge how foolish her longing was. No matter how much she wished that there was someone, just one person, who would voluntarily stay with her for a little while without having to be paid to do it, it would never happen.

S
he had called her work to take five days of the leave she was due. She had lost track of how much she had accumulated, because until now it had never interested her. Five weeks' holiday per year was more than she ever wanted, and over the years the unused days had piled up. They hadn't asked why she wanted to take the time off, and she knew that she had the confidence of management. A conscientious department head like herself would never stay away from her job so long unless there was a serious reason for it.

In the days that followed she went to see Pernilla every afternoon. She had told her that she would be the only one coming from the crisis group in future, and Pernilla took the news without displaying a hint of either joy or dislike. Monika took it as a good sign. For the time being she was content merely to be accepted.

She spent the greater part of her time outdoors with Daniella. The playground soon became a bore, so their walks grew longer. Slowly but surely she managed to win Daniella's trust, and she knew that it was a good route to take, to reach the mother through the child's approval. Because it was Pernilla who held the power. Monika was aware of this every second of the day.

There was an ever-present risk of being suddenly banished; Pernilla might think they could get along better without her help. The mere thought of someday no longer being welcome made Monika realise to what lengths she was prepared to go to avoid being sent away. She had so much more to put right.

Once a friend of Pernilla's came by, and Monika had mixed feelings when she had to go away and leave them alone. Of course she should have been glad for Pernilla's sake, but at the same time she wanted to be part of what was happening, wanted to know what they talked about, whether Pernilla had any plans for the future that Monika didn't know about. But most often Pernilla would just take a nap while Monika and Daniella set off on their excursions. Monika tried to stay in the flat when they returned, to show how well she and Daniella were getting along. Most of the time Pernilla would retreat to the bedroom, and they didn't talk much with each other, but Monika enjoyed every second she was allowed to be there. Only Mattias's eyes made her feel ill at ease. They watched her from the chest of drawers when she sat on the floor and played with Daniella. But maybe he was beginning to understand that she was there for a good purpose, now that she returned faithfully every day to assume her responsibilities.

Although Pernilla didn't say much, Monika felt that she was making a contribution just by being in the flat, and each time she left, her sense of calm remained for a couple of hours. The feeling that she had succeeded in the first stage of an honourable undertaking.

That she had earned a moment's respite. And she also realised how meaningless everything else had become. As if all the trivialities were peeled away and only a single purpose for her existence was left. But after a few hours the heart palpitations came back. She knew her science, knew exactly what sort of automatic changes were taking place in her body. That its sole purpose was to maximise her chances of survival. Fear directed her blood to the large muscles and her liver released its supply of glucose to give them fuel to work with; the pounding in her ears was her heart working to raise her blood pressure. Her spleen contracted to squirt out more red blood cells and raise the blood's capacity for oxygen uptake, while adrenaline and nor-adrenaline streamed through her body. But this time it did no good that she had received the highest marks in all her exams. What they had forgotten to teach her was how to handle the reaction. Her whole body was working to help her to flee, but what did you do when it wasn't possible to flee? In the daytime she felt like she was inside a glass bubble, shielded from everything happening outside, as if it no longer concerned her. In the evenings she drove to the gym to exhaust herself with a hard workout, but she couldn't fall asleep when she finally went to bed. When she turned off the light the fear came creeping in. And the confusion. The thoughts she had managed to fend off in the daytime by staying in continuous motion demanded attention in the dark, but that was out of the question. She suspected that her thoughts might make her doubt what she was doing, and for that reason she had every right to keep them at a distance. Since nothing ever conformed to reason or fairness, she was fully justified
in planning her own strategy to bring order to the system. The forces that ruled life and death lacked all logic and discrimination. No acceptance was possible. She had to find an opportunity to make amends.

When she finally got to sleep, other dangers were lurking. Thomas would appear in her dreams. He came and went at will and awakened a longing in her that left everything reeling. What she had purposely forced her brain to forget remained as a memory in her body, and her hands refused to ward it off.

She wrote herself a prescription for sleeping pills as a means of defence.

After that she was left in peace.

On the third day she gathered her courage and suggested that she stay and fix dinner for them that evening. Yes, and go out to run errands first, of course. She added that she didn't mind at all. Pernilla hesitated only briefly, but then admitted that it would really be appreciated. Her back had grown worse since she was alone, and she hadn't been to her chiropractor in over three weeks. Monika knew that she didn't have the money, but she needed to hear it from Pernilla and above all she needed more details. She hoped to find out more during dinner.

She stood in the hall putting on her coat, having decided to make beef Wellington with pommes au gratin. She was wondering whether to buy a bottle of wine when Pernilla came out to the hallway.

‘By the way, I'm a vegetarian. I don't think I told you, did I?'

Monika smiled.

‘What luck. I didn't want to say that I was because I thought you might want to have meat. How long have you been a vegetarian?'

‘Since I was eighteen.'

Monika fastened the last button on her coat.

‘Is there anything you particularly feel like having?'

Pernilla sighed.

‘No. To be honest, I'm not even very hungry.'

‘You ought to try and eat. I'll find something at the grocer's. Would you like a glass of wine, by the way? I can stop at the off-licence and buy a bottle if you like.'

Pernilla thought for a bit.

‘Someone else from the crisis group who was here said I should be careful with alcohol for the time being. It's apparently quite common to start consoling yourself with a couple of glasses of wine in the evening when you're in my situation.'

Monika didn't reply, but wondered briefly if she had been rebuked. But then Pernilla went on.

‘But there's not much risk of that, because I can't afford to buy any. I would very much like to have a glass of wine.'

Monika spent a long time choosing vegetables. She didn't know any vegetarian recipes, and finally she asked one of the staff for help. Oh yes, there were various recipe suggestions on a stand over there by the dairy counter, and she picked one with chanterelles that looked rather luxurious and that she thought she could manage to prepare. She was feeling almost excited when she went back to her car with
bags filled with food. Pernilla's trust in her seemed to have grown, and the threat of being sent away seemed less imminent. And tonight they would eat dinner together. They would have a chance to get to know each other a little better and she didn't intend to disappoint Pernilla. She had just put down the bags to take out her car keys when she saw it. She didn't see where it came from, but suddenly it was standing there on the pavement, right next to one of the bags. A silver-grey pigeon with iridescent purple wings. Monika dropped her car keys. With tiny black eyes it was staring accusingly at Monika, and she was suddenly afraid that the pigeon would do her harm. Without taking her eyes off it, she bent down and picked up her keys, unlocked the car and opened the door. Not until she picked up the bags did it flutter off in alarm above the parking lot, and she loaded the shopping into the car as quickly as she could. She locked the doors before she drove off.

When she parked outside Pernilla's building she sat in the car for a while to collect herself. She saw that fat dog again. Only a few metres from the balcony where it lived the dog was doing its business, but as soon as it was done it wanted to go back inside. Somebody opened the balcony door, but it was dark in the flat so she couldn't make out whether it was a woman or a man.

Pernilla was sitting on the sofa watching TV. She had put on Mattias's big pullover again, and Monika saw that she had been crying. In front of her on the table lay a stack of opened envelopes. Monika put down
the bags. The hope that she would feel better again as soon as she got back inside the flat had been satisfied, and she felt all her resolve returning. She sat down next to Pernilla on the sofa. It was time to take the next step.

‘How's it going?'

Pernilla didn't answer. She closed her eyes and hid her face in her hands. Monika stole a look at the envelopes on the table. Most of them were addressed to Mattias, and they all looked like bills. This was a golden opportunity that mustn't be wasted.

‘I realise it must be tough to open all his letters.'

Pernilla took her hands away and sniffled a little. Pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them.

‘I haven't been able to open the mail for a while, but I did it while you were out shopping.'

Monika got up and went into the kitchen to get some paper towels, which she handed to Pernilla when she returned. Pernilla blew her nose and crumpled up the paper into a ball.

‘We won't be able to afford to stay here. I always knew that, but I just couldn't think about it.'

Monika sat in silence for a while. It was this information she had waited for Pernilla to confide in her.

‘Forgive me for asking, but were you covered by insurance? I mean, accident insurance?'

Pernilla sighed. And then the whole story came out. The one Mattias had told and which it was now all right for her to know about. This time the account was more detailed. Monika memorised every detail, every number, noted precisely all the particulars in her well-trained memory, and when Pernilla had finished talking Monika was familiar with the whole problem.
The loan they had been forced to take to pay their bills after Pernilla's accident had not been a normal bank loan, but a Finax loan with an interest rate of 32 percent. And since they had not been able to afford any amortisation, the principal amount increased each month and was now up to 718,000 kronor. Pernilla's only income was her disability pension, and even if it were possible to obtain a housing allowance, she wouldn't be able to make ends meet.

‘Mattias had just started a new job and we were so happy about it. We would have had some tough years but at least we could begin to pay off this bloody loan.'

Monika had already thought out what she would say when this occasion arose, and now the time was finally here.

‘You know, I was just sitting here thinking about something. I can't promise anything, of course, but I know that there's a programme that you can apply to when something like this happens.'

‘What sort of programme?'

‘I'm not quite sure, but I was helping someone else after a death in her family, on behalf of the crisis group, and she got help from that programme. I promise I'll look it up tomorrow morning.'

Pernilla shifted position and turned towards her. For that moment she had Pernilla's full attention.

‘Well, if you have time and feel like doing it, that would be very kind.'

Her heart was beating in a nice, steady rhythm.

‘Of course I can arrange it. But I'd need documentation. Loans, insurance, your living expenses, that sort of thing. How much your rehabilitation costs.
Chiropractors, massage. Do you think you could get all that together?'

Pernilla nodded.

And while Monika stood in the kitchen sautéeing chanterelles, Daniella playing at her feet, and Pernilla coming in now and then to ask about some papers she wondered whether Monika would need, she felt for the first time in ages a strange feeling of serenity.