‘I don’t know if I’ll have the baby,’ she said calmly.
Her saying it shocked him. ‘What?’ he said.
‘I’ve thought of having an abortion. There are clinics in St Petersburg. It’s just an overnight boat trip away. Places where they do nothing else but late-term abortions. I’ll have to decide soon though.’
‘Does Anders want that?’
‘He doesn’t know. I’m going to go there on my own.’
‘On your own?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can’t do that! It would be awful!’
She didn’t answer.
Instead she looked out the window again. She didn’t know, she said calmly, when her marriage started to dissolve. Maybe six months ago, a year ago, she wasn’t sure. A shift in her way of looking at it. That was all. She knew of course that Anders was unfaithful from time to time but they were passing affairs, hardly more than flirts. Flirting had always been part of his charm: the boyish smile, the sudden earnestness, the flash of genuine warmth. She never felt they threatened her marriage. But now something had changed.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. He’s seeing someone of course, I don’t know who. Someone new. But he’s always been seeing other women, not necessarily having affairs with them. Is it my pregnancy that makes me this way, do you think? He wanted children, I was the one who wasn’t sure. Then I thought maybe it would make things better. That was a foolish idea if ever there was one.’
‘Has he said anything about it?’
‘He says he’s thrilled. But I know that won’t stop him seducing other women.’
She sat for a long time, looking away from Dan. ‘It’s awful that I feel like this!’ she said suddenly and she put her fists to her eyes with her elbows on the table. ‘Awful!’
Later, as though talking of a mutual acquaintance, she said, ‘Do you think Anders might be more serious about this one? Whoever she is? I have the feeling she’s a lot in his thoughts just now.’ She looked at Dan and smiled. He said he didn’t know.
‘Doesn’t he tell you things like that?’ she asked.
‘No. Men seldom do.’
‘But you’re a close friend of his?’
‘We used to be close, yes. He’s always been good company.’
‘That’s true. He’s easy to get on with. We’ve never had a row, you know. Not once.’
After a moment she said that maybe that was part of the problem. They listened to each other without taking each other in. She had thought her becoming pregnant would change that. But it didn’t.
She looked down at her empty teacup and touched its rim with the edge of her spoon, playing with it, which was unlike her.
‘You know, I sometimes wonder if he’s ever loved me,’ she said.
‘He married you.’
‘The idea of me.’
‘What does that mean?’
Instead of answering she said that the happiest time was when they’d taken over the house from her parents, doing it up. And opening the antique showroom. Then she discovered he was already having an affair. Or continuing an old one. She wasn’t sure which.
‘There have been others,’ she said. ‘I know they don’t matter. They really don’t.’ She stopped to look up at him. ‘Of course they’re hurtful just the same. Isn’t that stupid?’
She was crying again. She clutched his fingers, held them tight until the crying stopped.
‘There’s someone more serious now. I can sense that,’ she said matter-of-factly. She took out a handkerchief and dried her eyes. ‘But what a thing to do at a time like this!’
‘It’ll pass,’ he said.
She didn’t answer.
‘What I mean,’ he said, ‘is maybe you shouldn’t go to St Petersburg.’
It was something he felt rather than thought and the strength of the feeling surprised him.
‘You think I shouldn’t?’ she asked calmly. ‘Why?’
What he wanted to say was because you’ll regret it.
‘When can I see you again?’ he asked her instead.
‘Do you want to?’
‘Yes, of course.’
She said her mother would be coming to spend Easter with them. ‘She’s been alone since the divorce. And she’s not well. But the moment she’s gone I’ll come to see you again. If that’s all right.’
In the little hall, putting on her coat, she said that she loved it out here, the cosiness of the little house, the island lying so still in the sea.
‘Next time I’ll ring first to make sure you’re home.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘I’ll probably go to St Petersburg. Once Mummy’s gone after Easter.’
‘What will Anders say?’
‘Why should I tell him? Let it be a fait accompli.’
‘Madeleine!’
‘What?’
‘You can’t do it alone. It would be horrible.’
‘What do you suggest? That I ask my mother to come with me?’
‘I’ll go with you. If you insist on doing it, I’ll go with you.’
‘Would you? Seriously?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re an extraordinary man. You really are.’
In the days that followed he stuck to his routine, working, cooking, sleeping, going for long walks late in the afternoon. His breath pushed small clouds into the dark-blue air each time he set out. Sune Isaksson dropped by to see him.
‘What are you doing for Easter?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Me neither,’ Sune said. He was looking fitter than he had. ‘I’m feeling better – ever since I stopped that damned therapy. I’d rather live again for a few months than drag things out like I’ve been doing.’
‘How long?’
‘I won’t see the leaves fall this year, that’s for sure. But right now I’m as well as I’ve ever been. Better! All that’s lacking is a good woman to get me going now and then.’
‘Will you find one out here?’
‘Maybe not. But I’m damned if I’m going back into town. Talking of women,’ he growled, ‘I hear you’ve met Lena Sundman.’
‘Do you have some sort of military intelligence out here?’
‘You were seen on the ferry.’
‘There wasn’t anyone on the ferry.’
‘There’s always someone. A minimum of two. According to the regulations. She tell you the story when you drove her to see the farm at Bromskär?’
‘She told me nothing.’
‘Her father grew up there after his parents died. They were his aunt and uncle and they had no children of their own so they treated him like a son. Lena spent a lot of time with the old couple herself, especially after her parents split up. There’s another family living there at the moment though – and that’s what I want to talk to you about. Maybe I’ve found someone to do your painting for you.’
‘What makes you think I want any painting done?’
‘You can’t leave it like this! And what about upstairs? They’re already getting the roofing on. The rooms must be finished and dried out by now. And the insurance company’ll pay so why not.’
‘Who are you trying to foist on me, Sune?’
‘A young man called Gabriel Rabban. He’s one of the family over at the farm. They’re good people, they could do with a little money.’
‘Gabriel Rabban.’
‘Iraqi refugees. They’ve been living there for a couple of years, off and on, helping the widow until she died. Gabriel’s at a loose end now.’
‘How do you know he wants to do it?’
‘I’ve talked to them. He wants to.’
Dan considered the idea. It would be nice to have the place in order when Madeleine next came out. And if she did decide to leave Anders she could always stay here. There’d be no need for an abortion. She and her baby could live here as long as she wanted.
‘At least let me send him over,’ Sune said. ‘That way you can talk to him and see
.’
Halfway through the following morning Gabriel Rabban presented himself. A slender young man with a full-lipped face. His eyes were big and dark. It was easy to sense a brooding presence beneath them. He spoke Swedish with no trace of a foreign accent.
‘You know how to do this kind of work?’ Dan asked him. ‘How to prepare a concrete wall, plaster it, paint it?’
‘Sure. I can do it.’
‘You have experience?’
‘I can do it.’
‘What experience have you had?’
‘I did handicrafts in school.’
Dan thought of the bookends Carlos had once made for his birthday. Those too had been made in handicrafts class in school. Sweetly done, but hardly professional work.
‘How much will you charge?’
‘Forty kronor an hour.’ It seemed a lot for someone unqualified. He quickly added, ‘Cash.’
‘Well, I don’t know.’
‘Let me work a couple of days and see what I can do. You can decide then. If you’re not satisfied, you owe me nothing.’
Dan said he’d think it over.
When Sune Isaksson dropped in later that day the first thing he said was, ‘Well?’ Clearly he’d been talking to the Selavas family.
‘He’s never done this kind of work before.’
‘That’s why it’s important,’ Sune insisted. ‘It’ll give him the experience he needs to refer to next time a chance comes up.’
‘You think I should let a kid practise on my house?’
Sune ignored the question, saying again that the family needed the money. Any revenue generated by the farm was blocked until Solveig Backlund’s will went through probate. Their situation was getting very tight.
‘I’m sorry to hear that but the insurance company is tough, they sure as hell aren’t going to pay a second time if the plastering and painting are botched.’
‘Nothing will be botched. These are serious people.’
‘Who’s this Solveig Backlund?’
‘The widow who died. The one who owned the farm on Bromskär. Didn’t Lena tell you?’
‘No.’
‘After Solveig Backlund’s husband died she couldn’t run the place alone but she couldn’t bring herself to sell it either. So she borrowed from the bank and she looked for help. She even put an ad in the farmers’ paper. The Selavas were about the only people who applied and she took them on. They’ve been there for a couple of years now. Solveig gave them free room and board and probably a small salary. Suited everyone.’
‘And now the Selavas have inherited her farm?’
‘Solveig left it to them but the will hasn’t gone through yet. Don’t worry about the painting. Gabriel comes from France but he’s part of their clan. A cousin or a nephew or something. They’ll see to it that the job gets done. They had a farm of their own in Iraq. And it’s not just the money, Gabriel needs the occupation. He’s bored out of his mind here. So if you can keep him busy for a month or so it’d be a big help.’
‘Where are his parents?’
‘In Lyon at the moment. His mother’s Swedish, his father Iraqi. They were living in Lebanon before.’
‘So that’s how he speaks Swedish.’
‘Plus Chaldean and Arabic and French. In France it was mostly fellow Chaldean refugees he saw. Just like they do here.’
Sune stood a moment in silence, abandoning the conversation as he lifted one hand, stretched his fingers. After a minute or two he lowered his hand again. Dan asked him if he was in pain. He didn’t say anything. Instead he went to the table and sat down. Dan got him his glass of whisky.
‘Know how long they gave me?’ Sune asked at last. ‘The Onco people?’
‘No. How could I?’
‘Everyone else out here knows.’ Sune tilted his chin, emphasizing the amusement he attached to this remark. Then he gave a laugh that didn’t quite make it to his normal bellow. ‘You’re goddamned incorrigible!’ he said. ‘Are they all like that in Ireland?’
‘How long?’
‘The head guy said eight months. Maximum. Maybe six acceptable. As a life. That was just over a year ago. I’ve spent a happy year out here since then. Never trust the experts. I sometimes wonder what madness made me ever leave this place. Work, I suppose. There was nothing to do here in those days. All the more reason why we have to find something for Gabriel Rabban before he gets it into his head to leave too. His grandaunt and granduncle would really be in the lurch without him.’
‘Doesn’t he go to school?’
‘He’s finished secondary school. And the nearest upper high school is in Norrtälje. Not that he’d be likely to go. Anyway his granduncle needs him here.’
He smiled at Dan. It was a good smile, warm and friendly. He put his fist on the table, so tightly clenched that the edges swelled. Clearly another burst of pain. Slowly he opened the fingers and spread them until his palm was wide.
‘Is it bad?’
‘I can manage. Time for me to go though. Cocktail hour. I can take my painkilling shot.’
‘I’ll drive you back.’
‘No, that’ll come soon enough. For the moment I’m okay walking.’
The following week, Madeline Roos rang.
‘I’m not ringing too late, am I?’ she asked.
‘No. Not at all.’
‘Mummy only left today. It’s the first chance I’ve had to ring.’
‘I’m glad to hear your voice.’
‘Dan, I told Anders. I told him on Easter Monday that I was going to have an abortion.’
‘Yes? What did he say?’
‘He broke down.’
‘Oh.’
‘Dan, he started to cry. I’ve never seen him like that before. He begged me not to kill our child.’
When she said this she too began to cry. She cried helplessly into the phone.
‘Isn’t that good?’
‘Dan, listen to me. Please listen to me. I don’t know if I can ever say this again. I love you, Dan. Maybe this is a shock to you but I’ve loved you since the first time you came to our house. I can’t explain it, nothing like it has ever happened to me before.’
‘Madeleine—’
‘No, listen Dan, please. I want to say this. Anders and I went together to the gynaecologist this morning and we saw the scan. It’s a girl. A tiny girl, we saw her nose and her mouth and her eyes. Anders burst into tears again when he saw her. I’d never have thought it of him. I can feel her move now, I can tell that she’s awake.’
‘Madeleine—’
‘No, listen to me, Dan, please, please listen. I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want you ever to leave my life, you mean more to me than I ever thought possible, but Anders is my child’s father. I can’t ignore that.’
He could barely hear what she was saying. Yet he knew every word before she said it. He knew she was right to face whatever pain might come for the sake of her child. But he didn’t want her to be hurt.
‘Madeleine, I’m sure Anders will be a fine father.’
‘Today for the first time I confronted him about his affairs and he said it was true he’d had other women but they didn’t mean anything. The only one that had ever meant anything to him had cost him his first marriage when his wife found out and left him. He wasn’t going to risk that happening again, not now that we were a family.’
‘He has good reason to mean it,’ Dan said.
‘You’ve known him a long time, Dan, much longer than I have. I’m glad you said that. It gives me hope.’
‘But if ever it doesn’t work out, I want you to know there’s a home for you here for as long as you want it.’
‘I know that, Dan. I know what a generous person you are. And I know that you’re the only man I have truly loved. But now – listen. We saw her skin, it’s wrinkled. It’s… it’s unbelievable. But you know that, you must have seen your son.’
He had, he’d seen Carlos as a foetus, he knew the miracle she was talking about, he remembered it v
ividly as she went on, telling him how she dared not meet him yet. ‘For the baby’s sake Anders and I have to make a new start. I can’t endanger my child’s happiness.’ She said that if she were to see Dan now all her resolve would vanish. Once the baby was born and she had settled into her new life as a mother and the baby was secure she wanted them to meet again, but not now. While she told him this, her voice trembled.
‘I’m not going to cry!’ she said. ‘I’m happy, I really am, at the thought of meeting you again, Dan, even if it takes time.’
The conversation ended with her sobbing into the phone again, telling him how much she loved him but how her unborn baby must take first place in her life and how she needed time to make that possible. When he had put down the phone he sat staring at the black window and in the reflection, for the first time, he saw what he looked like now – a rumpled, middle-aged man.
As he stared he thought again of what Madeleine had said. He understood her, he understood her resolve: nothing must endanger her child’s happiness. Would Anders stick to his decision to lead a new life? It was certainly possible. He thought of what Madeleine had said Anders told her, that an affair had cost him his first marriage and how he wasn’t going to risk that again. He remembered how shocked Connie and he had been when Eleonora left for London. They’d assumed that she’d met someone else, some Englishman, and Dan had felt a stab of disappointment that she hadn’t even rung to say goodbye. Not as much as a postcard from England. Until then he had thought that he and she had something in common, something they recognized in each other, a sharing of the role as amused onlooker with an exceptionally gifted socializer as spouse. He remembered the glance Eleonora had given him the year Ingemar Stenmark won his first World Cup. All Sweden, it was said, went wild that evening. Anders and Connie had leapt to their feet when Stenmark’s final time came up on the screen, shouting and waving, hugging each other wildly, while Eleonora gave them an affectionate smile and glanced at Dan. There was a bond there, he hadn’t been mistaken. That winter they flew, both families together, to the resort where Stenmark had triumphed. Connie and Anders were accomplished skiers, if not up to Eleonora’s high standard. Carlos, at twelve, had done cross-country but not downhill yet. Dan was a complete beginner. Despite their protests Eleonora spent an hour each morning with the two of them, showing them the basics. They practised until she came back with the others at lunchtime. Sometimes Dan took Carlos up in the cabin lift and they all had lunch together on a restaurant terrace, surrounded by high glacier peaks. Afterwards he and Carlos watched the other three race down. Connie and Anders went first, negotiating the difficult gullies as best they could, falling and laughing like kids, while Eleonora zigzagged past them with astonishing speed. It was the single accomplishment, she said afterwards, that she had taken with her from the Swiss school her father sent her to. There wasn’t much else to do, she told them, except compare clothes and service the boys and ski. Carlos loved being with Eleonora but he loved being with farbror Anders even more. After skiing they chased each other through the snow, tumbled, wrestled, threw snowballs. As always, Anders seemed blessedly free from self-importance.
In the Name of Love Page 6