Sacrifice (25 page)

M
aj-Britt Pettersson.

The mere name on the letter-box made her feel sick. But she was still safely sheltered, out of reach. She knew that the terror lay in wait out there, but it could not get to her. The tiny white pills had blocked all passages.

She put her finger on the doorbell and pressed it. She had parked the car on the other side of the building so Pernilla wouldn't see it, and like the last time she was here she had gone in through the cellar entrance at the end of the building.

She heard someone inside and then the lock clicked open. She shuddered as she stepped across the threshold; she never would have thought she could be persuaded to return.

She kept her coat on but took off her boots. The fat dog came up and sniffed at her, but when she took no notice it turned and left. She cast a glance into the empty kitchen as she passed, wondering whether Ellinor was there too, but she didn't seem to be. She continued towards the living room. For an instant she wasn't sure whether she was approaching the living-room doorway or it was approaching her.

The monstrosity was sitting in the easy chair and
motioned towards the sofa with one hand. A sweeping gesture that perhaps was meant to be welcoming.

‘It was nice of you to come. Please have a seat.'

Monika didn't intend to stay long and remained standing in the doorway. Just get this over with so that she could leave.

‘What is it you want?'

The gigantic woman sat quite still and watched her with her penetrating gaze, apparently satisfied with the situation. Because she was smiling. For the first time, she smiled at Monika, and for some reason it felt even more disagreeable than her usual behaviour. Monika was uncomfortably aware of the woman's superior position. The mere fact that she had agreed to come was a confession as good as a written affidavit. Her dazed brain tried to figure out what was actually happening, but she didn't recognise her thoughts any longer. Ellinor and Maj-Britt and Åse and Pernilla. The names buzzed around and stumbled over each other but she could no longer figure out who knew what or why they knew it. And she didn't even want to go near the thought of what would happen if everything was revealed and became public knowledge. But everything was going to be fine. She would just see to it that Pernilla met a new man and was happy again and they would continue to be friends and everyone would live happily ever after.

She had almost forgotten where she was when she heard the voice from the easy chair again.

‘I'm sorry I had to resort to such words to get you to come here, but as I said it's important. It's for your own good.'

She smiled again and Monika felt a little sick.

‘I asked you to come because I want to help you. It may not seem that way right now, but one day you will understand.'

‘What is it you want?'

The woman in the chair straightened her back and her eyes narrowed to slits.

‘
Your tongue devises destruction, like a sharp razor,
working deceitfully. You love evil more than good,
lying rather than speaking righteousness, you deceitful
tongue
.'

Monika squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. It didn't help. This was really happening.

‘What?'

‘
God shall likewise destroy you forever; He shall
take you away, and pluck you out of your dwelling
place, and uproot you from the land of the living
.'

Monika swallowed. Everything was spinning. She leaned against the door jamb for support.

‘I'm only trying to save you. What's the name of the widow, the one who lives across the way? The one you're lying to?'

Monika didn't answer. In less than a second the thought whirled away and she could only confirm what a fantastic invention Zopax was. It came to her rescue when all her other efforts to solve her problems failed.

The woman continued when she didn't get an answer.

‘I don't need her name. Because I know where she lives.'

‘I don't understand what you have to do with any of this.'

‘I make no assumptions. But God does.'

The woman was insane. She kept on watching Monika, holding her there as if she were nailed to the spot. She clearly felt the woman's eyes worming their way in, dodging her exhausted defences, and finally reaching her very core.

Worming their way in. What a ridiculous expression!

She suddenly heard someone giggling and realised to her astonishment that the laughter was coming from her own mouth. The monster in the chair gave a start and glared at her.

‘What's so funny?'

‘Nothing, I was just standing here thinking about something and then I thought that … it's nothing.'

Someone laughed again but then it was quiet. The true nature of something. A guest from hell disguised as a worm.

When the monstrosity began to speak again her voice sounded angry, as if someone had insulted her.

‘I won't tire you with any details, because I can see with my own eyes that you aren't very interested, but you must know that I'm doing this for your own sake. I'll be brief and give you three alternatives. The first is that you voluntarily confess to the widow who lives on the third floor across the way that you have been telling lies and bring her here so that I can hear it with my own ears. The second is as follows. Somewhere in safekeeping there is a letter that I have written. If you do not voluntarily confess, in a week this letter will be delivered to her, and when she reads it she will find out that you were the one who talked her husband into trading places with you on the way home from the course.'

The fear succeeded in opening up a little hole, but
only a little one. So far she was still fairly safe. The pills were in her handbag, but she had already taken more than the normal dosage. Several times over.

‘The third alternative is that you deposit one million kronor into the bank account of Save the Children. And that you come here and give me the deposit receipt as proof.'

Monika stared at her. The precise sum and specific request carved out a measure of reality from the insanity. With absolute clarity she comprehended the full import of such an unreasonable demand.

‘Are you crazy? I don't have that much money.'

The monster turned her head away and looked out the window. Her chins shook when she continued.

‘No, of course you don't. Then it will have to be one of the other alternatives.'

The gate was thrown open wide. She snatched up her handbag and fumbled for the packet of pills, saw out of the corner of her eye that the monster was watching her but it didn't make any difference. She dropped the foil pack on the floor and almost passed out when she stooped to pick it up.

‘You can think about it for a couple of days and let me know which one it will be. But it's urgent. The grace of the Lord must not be misused.'

Monika staggered out to the hall and swallowed the tablets. She picked up her boots and sat down in the stairwell to pull them on. She held onto the banister on the way down and found the exit through the cellar. Somehow she had to buy herself some time. Make everything stand still long enough to give her a chance to think and regain control over all that had gone so wrong, slipping out of her hands once again.
The woman was insane and somehow part of the net that had ensnared her. Now she had to find a way out of everything that was no longer possible to comprehend.

She noticed how the Zopax had found its way to the correct receptors in her brain, and she stopped to allow herself a moment's pleasure. Enjoyed the sense of liberation when everything, through a wondrous transformation, was no longer so important, when everything sharp became embedded in something soft and manageable that could no longer do her harm.

She stood utterly still, gently inhaling air into her lungs and breathing. Just breathing.

The sun had peeked out. She closed her eyes and let the rays play over her face.

Everything would be fine. Everything
was
quite fine. Zopax and Save the Children. Everything had a charitable purpose. Almost like the donation fund she was responsible for at the clinic. Which would go to deserving aid groups for children injured in war. Each year they helped hundreds of children all over the world. It was fantastic; they saved them, saved the children. Save the Children. Ha! Now that she thought about it, it was almost the same thing, after all. And no one would ever notice a thing, there was so much in that donation account. She would just have to borrow a little of the money as an emergency measure until she managed to solve the problem in some other way. She had the account number in her wallet, and the bank was open. It was for Pernilla's sake too, of course, she mustn't forget that, so that she wouldn't feel betrayed and deserted and utterly alone. Pernilla needed her. Until she had found an equally good
replacement for Mattias, Monika was the only one Pernilla had. And Monika had vowed, on her honour and in good conscience, that she would strive to serve her fellow man with humanity and respect for life as a guiding principle, and now she had a life to save. It was her duty to do everything she could.

The only thing was that in this case she couldn't remember whose life it was that she actually had to save.

M
aj-Britt sat on a chair just inside the front door. It stood a bit ajar and through the crack she had watched some of her neighbours pass by in the morning hours, hurrying down the stairs and out into the world she had left behind so many years ago. She inhaled the air that streamed in from out there and did her best to try to get used to it.

Ellinor had gone out and bought her a pair of outdoor shoes that were already on her feet, but Ellinor couldn't find a jacket to fit her. It would have to be specially ordered, they said, and Maj-Britt couldn't wait that long. What she had to do had to be done as soon as possible, before her courage failed her again.

Ellinor had kept on trying to persuade her but had finally been forced to give up. She recognised the futility of trying to convince someone who had put all her desires behind her, to undergo a series of complicated operations simply to hold onto a life that had actually ended long ago.

Maj-Britt hadn't said a word about her plans. Ellinor was totally in the dark about the negotiations that had taken place with God. Or the fact that Maj-Britt was in the process of making up for her sins so that she could be forgiven. And then dare to die.

Monika hadn't wanted to understand. Maj-Britt was unsure of how she had reacted. But it didn't make much difference. Whatever Monika decided to do, it would mean that Maj-Britt had performed a good deed. Either she would save Monika from hell by making her stop lying, or, if Monika chose to pay the money instead, it would be thanks to Maj-Britt that Save the Children would be able to help a great number of children to live a more tolerable life.

A little restitution.

Of course it wouldn't be enough, but God had indicated that it would mitigate somewhat the devastating judgement that awaited her.

But she was not forgiven.

She had one more thing to do. Because it wasn't only Monika who had lied.

That's why she was sitting by her front door and peeking out through the crack, trying to convince herself. So that she could approach with tiny ant steps the enormous thing she was about to do.

Those letters she had written.

In order for her to dare to leave this life, all the lies had to be taken back, and she needed to see Vanja with her own eyes to make sure, to be certain that she received her forgiveness. And then she would know. The question kept swirling round inside her: how had Vanja known about the tumour that was growing in her body when she didn't even know about it herself?

She had considered writing a letter in any case, despite the fact that Vanja had said that she did not intend to tell her anything either by letter or telephone.
And if she was only half as stubborn as she had been as a girl, it would be fruitless even to try.

Maj-Britt had to conquer herself. Then Monika Lundvall's confession to the widow or a receipt for the money to Save the Children would be the only thing missing. When she had received proof she wouldn't drag out her dying for as long as six months. She would see to it that things went far more quickly.

It was Ellinor who had arranged everything. For the first time Maj-Britt had picked up her telephone and used the mobile number that Ellinor had left on her nightstand. And Ellinor had been enthusiastic. She borrowed a car large enough and rang to find out about visiting routines. She told Maj-Britt that the woman she had talked to sounded almost glad about her enquiry, replying that yes, of course, Vanja Tyrén was allowed to have visitors, even unguarded, and that she would book one of the visiting rooms.

In the meantime Maj-Britt had been fully occupied trying to prepare herself. For two days she had tried to comprehend what she was about to do, and the fact that she actually intended to do it voluntarily. And she wouldn't even be able to blame Ellinor if things went wrong.

It was an unreal moment when they stood ready inside her front door. Almost as if she were dreaming. Saba stood a bit further down the hall and watched them go out the front door, but she didn't even try to follow because that door was not an exit for her. For her it was a strange opening through which people appeared at intervals and then went up in smoke again. But
now her mistress was on the other side, and it obviously made her nervous. Saba came all the way to the threshold and stood there whining, so Ellinor crouched down and petted her on the back.

‘We'll come back soon, you'll see. This evening she'll be back again.'

And with every cell in her enormous body Maj-Britt wished that it were already evening and that she could go back inside.

The city had changed. So much had happened since the last time she saw it. New buildings had shot up from green zones and familiar neighbourhoods, transforming her home town into a foreign place. And it had also grown. The entire residential section had spread out over the forest-clad hills to the south, extending the city limits by several kilometres. She hadn't left the town in over thirty years and yet it was totally unfamiliar to her. Her eyes desperately tried to take in all the new impressions, but eventually she gave up and shut her eyes for a while to find some respite. Thoughts of Vanja were constantly on her mind. How she would react. Whether she was angry at her. But all the visual impressions helped her for the moment to dispel the worst of her nervousness.

She dozed for a while. She didn't know how long they had been driving when she woke up as the engine was turned off. They were in a car park. She cast a hasty glance at the nearby compound, taking in the white buildings within a high fence, but couldn't absorb anymore. She had tried to prepare herself as best she could for the attention that she knew her appearance
would attract, but now that the time had arrived her discomfort got the better of her. Once again her courage deserted her. The mere thought of having to display herself to Vanja was enough. Having to expose her gigantic failure. Her throat hurt and tears welled up, and was unable to hide them although she felt that Ellinor was watching. The terror she felt at getting out of the car and having to reveal herself to strange people was just as strong as what she felt when she had done her thumb-verses and He had handed down His judgement. Her whole body was trembling.

‘There's no danger, Maj-Britt.'

Ellinor's voice was calm and comforting.

‘It will be a while yet before we have to go in, so we'll just sit out here in the meantime. Then I'll go in with you and see that everything is in order before I leave you two alone.'

And she felt Ellinor take her hand, and she let it happen. She gripped Ellinor's slender hand and squeezed it hard. With all her heart she wished that a tiny insignificant bit of the self-confidence that Ellinor possessed could be transferred to her. Ellinor, who never gave up. Who, in her stubbornness and against all odds, had succeeded in stepping in to convince her, to prove to her, that there was something called goodwill. And didn't ask for anything in return.

‘It's time now, Maj-Britt. Visiting hour is starting now.'

She turned her head and was met by Ellinor's smile. And to her astonishment she saw that the girl's eyes were full of tears.

Maj-Britt's new shoes were walking on wet tarmac. The tips shot out under the folds of her dress at regular
intervals but she couldn't look at anything else. The lower edge of a door that opened, a threshold, a black doormat, yellowish-brown linoleum. Ellinor talking to someone. The rattle of keys. A man's black shoes beneath dark-blue trousers in front of her and more of the yellowish-brown floor. Some locked doors along the walls at the edge of her field of vision.

Not once did she raise her eyes but she could still feel all the eyes following her.

The man's shoes stopped and a door was opened.

‘Vanja will be right down. You can go inside and wait.'

Another threshold and she managed to conquer this one too. They had apparently arrived. The man's black shoes vanished out the door and bit by bit she raised her eyes to make sure that they were alone.

Ellinor had stopped just inside the doorway.

‘Are you okay?'

Maj-Britt nodded. She had made it here and tried to take strength from the triumph. But the ordeal had cost her; her legs wouldn't hold up any longer, and she went over to a table with four chairs that looked sturdy enough to bear her weight. She pulled out one of them and sat down.

‘Then I'll wait outside.'

Maj-Britt nodded again.

Ellinor took a step over the threshold but stopped there and turned round.

‘You know, Maj-Britt, I'm so terribly glad you're doing this.'

And then she was alone. A small room with venetian blinds pulled down, a simple sofa group, the table she was sitting at and some pictures on the walls. The
sounds continued to flow in from the corridor. A telephone rang, a door closed. And soon Vanja would come. Vanja, whom she hadn't seen in thirty-four years. Who she thought had abandoned her and to whom she herself had now lied. She heard footsteps coming down the corridor and her fingers tightened their grip on the table edge. And then she was standing in the doorway. Maj-Britt saw how she involuntarily gasped. She remembered the wedding photograph, Vanja as bridesmaid, and realised how mistaken she had been. In the doorway stood an ageing woman. Her dark hair transformed to silver and a fine network of wrinkles on the face she had once known so well. The concept of time suddenly personified. In a single blow made so palpable that all those things taken for granted that were constantly happening now demanded their tribute, those things that had constantly etched their rings, year by year, whether they were used or not.

But it was Vanja's eyes that almost took her breath away. She remembered the Vanja she had known, always with a gleam in the corner of her eye and a little mocking smile on her lips. The woman she saw before her bore an infinite sorrow in her gaze, as if her eyes had been forced to see more than they could stand. And yet she smiled, and in an instant the Vanja she had once known shone through in that unfamiliar face.

She gave no sign that revealed what she was thinking when she saw Maj-Britt.

Not a sign.

The guard stood in the doorway and Vanja looked around the room.

‘Hey Bosse, can't we pull up the blinds a little? I can hardly see my way around in here.'

The guard smiled and put his hand on the door handle.

‘I'm sorry, Vanja, they have to stay like that.'

He closed the door behind him, but Maj-Britt never heard him lock it. It didn't seem that he did. Vanja went over to the window and tried to adjust the blinds but it didn't work. They stayed put. She gave up and looked around again. Went over to a picture and leaned forward, looking a little more closely. A view of a forest-covered landscape.

Then she turned round and swept her gaze over the room.

‘Imagine, I've wondered for all these years what these visiting rooms look like.'

Maj-Britt sat in silence. For all these years. Vanja had sat and wondered for sixteen years.

Vanja came over to the table and pulled out the chair across from her, looking almost shy as she sat down. Maj-Britt was in a daze. In such a daze that her nervousness was gone. It was only Vanja who was sitting there. Hidden somewhere in that strange body was the Vanja she had once known. There was nothing to be afraid of.

They sat looking at each other for a long time. Completely silent, as if they were searching each other's faces for familiar details. Seconds and then minutes ticked by in inactivity and Maj-Britt's trepidation receded entirely. For the first time in ages she felt utterly calm. The refuge that she had experienced in her youth that always surrounded Vanja was intact; it was possible to relax here, to stop defending herself.
And she thought about Ellinor again: how she had struggled, finally reaching her.

It was Vanja who broke the silence.

‘Imagine if anyone had told us back then that we'd be sitting here today. In a visiting room at Vireberg.'

Maj-Britt lowered her eyes. Everything that had poured out of her now made room for something else. The realisation that so much time had been wasted. And that now it was all too late.

‘Have you been to a doctor yet?'

As if Vanja could hear what she was thinking.

Maj-Britt nodded.

‘When are you going to have the operation?'

Maj-Britt hesitated. She didn't intend to lie anymore. But she couldn't tell her the truth either.

‘How did you know?'

Vanja smiled a little.

‘I was smart, wasn't I? Making you come here even though I had already told you about it. Because I did in my very first letter. What a person won't do to get to see what the visiting rooms look like.'

The same old Vanja, no doubt about that. But Maj-Britt didn't understand what she meant. She tried to recall what she had said in that letter, but Vanja hadn't said anything, had she? Maj-Britt definitely would have remembered.

‘What do you mean, you already told me?'

Vanja's smile grew bigger. Again her old Vanja flashed by. The Vanja who shared so many of her memories.

‘I wrote that I'd dreamt about you, didn't I?'

Maj-Britt stared at her.

‘What do you mean?'

‘I'm just telling you what happened. That I dreamt it. Naturally I wasn't dead certain, but I didn't feel like taking a chance.'

Maj-Britt heard herself snort but she hadn't really meant to. The explanation came so unexpectedly and was so improbable that she couldn't take it seriously.

‘You expect me to believe that?'

Vanja shrugged her shoulders and suddenly was her old self. Something in the expression on her face. The more Maj-Britt looked at her the more she recognised her. Time had merely passed and worn out the casing a bit.

‘Believe whatever you like, but that's how it was. If you have some better explanation that you'd rather believe, then be my guest.'