‘Hello, Maj-Britt.’
Maj-Britt gave the apparatus in her hand a suspicious glance.
‘What’s that?’
‘Could I sit down for a moment?’
Maj-Britt nodded and the doctor – no way was she going to call her Monika – sat down on the sofa, placing the strange object on the table in front of her. She took some papers out of her handbag. Maj-Britt didn’t take her eyes off her, registering every little movement. She observed with interest that the papers in her hand were shaking a bit.
‘So, here it is.’
The doctor unfolded the papers. Ellinor was watching her attentively. Maj-Britt turned and looked towards the window instead. She really did not feel particularly interested.
‘Your sedimentation rate is abnormally high, and your blood count is quite low. The sample showed no bacteria in the urine, and I found none after culturing either, so we can definitely rule out any infection in the urinary tract. A kidney stone was another thought I had, but then the pain would have come more suddenly, and besides it wouldn’t affect the sedimentation rate.’
She paused and Maj-Britt kept her eyes on the swings outside. What she did not suffer from was even less interesting to her.
‘So I’m healthy then?’
‘No, you’re not.’
There was a brief pause when everything was still safe.
‘I need to do an ultrasound.’
Still on her guard, Maj-Britt turned her head and met the doctor’s gaze.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
‘No, we can do it here.’
The doctor placed her hand on the apparatus on the table. Maj-Britt felt trapped. She had made up her mind not to go through any more examinations. Her refusal to leave the flat should have taken care of that, but now this doctor had dragged in equipment that would make it possible. What bad luck.
‘And what if I refuse?’
‘Maj-Britt!’
It was Ellinor. The boundary between entreaty and exasperation was gone.
Maj-Britt looked out the window again.
‘What do you think you might find with this ultrasound?’
It was Ellinor asking about the details that Maj-Britt herself had absolutely no interest in, and the two women began to discuss her possible ailment.
‘I’m not sure, of course, but I need to take a look at her kidneys.’
‘What do you think it might be?’
Again there was a pause, but all sense of calm was now gone. It was as if the word already lay quivering in the room, before it had even been uttered. Floating in one last moment of innocence.
‘It might be a tumour. But as I said,’ she added quickly, ‘I’m not one hundred percent certain.’
A tumour. Cancer. That was a word she had heard on TV many times and it had never passed by entirely unnoticed. But at that moment she realised that when something was mentioned that might possibly exist in her own body, then it felt considerably different. Then the word came alive, transformed into an image of something black and evil inside. It was almost possible to imagine a monster living inside her that swallowed everything in its path and kept growing bigger.
And yet she was not particularly afraid. It was more as if yet another thought she had not dared follow to its conclusion had finally been confirmed. Because why shouldn’t her body have cancer? It would be its last triumph over her futile, lifelong resistance. Lying in ambush and nourishing a growth in order to take its revenge once and for all, to conquer her.
And she realised that she had to know.
‘How is such a procedure done?’
Because in some way she did feel the need to have it confirmed.
* * *
The room was utterly silent. Maj-Britt was back in the easy chair. Ellinor leant forward in the sofa with her head in her hands. And in the middle of the room the doctor stood packing up her fancy apparatus which had just reinforced the suspicions that they all clearly shared. Maj-Britt was pleased to confirm that the doctor’s hands were still trembling. For some reason it made her feel better to see that.
‘As far as I could tell the tumour is still contained within the surface of the kidney, but of course we have to do a contrast X-ray to know for sure. From what I saw there were no signs of metastasis, but that also has to be checked. But it was large, so it’s high time to have it removed.’
Maj-Britt felt strangely calm. She looked towards the window again. At the swings that she had looked at for more than thirty years but had never seen up close.
‘And if it’s not removed?’
No one answered, but after a while she heard a little puffing sound from Ellinor.
‘Well, what if it’s not removed?’
Now it was Maj-Britt’s turn to be silent. She had said everything that needed to be said.
‘Maj-Britt, what do you mean by that? You must realise that you have to get rid of it! Isn’t that right, Monika? How long can someone live with that sort of tumour if it isn’t treated?’
‘That’s impossible to answer. I have no idea how long it’s been growing in there.’
‘Well, approximately?’
Ellinor, as usual, was meticulous about details.
‘Six months perhaps. Maybe more, maybe less, it depends on how fast it’s growing. As a doctor I must strongly recommend an operation.’
As a doctor. Maj-Britt snorted to herself.
Ellinor’s mobile rang and she went out into the hall.
Maj-Britt watched the woman who was very carefully packing up her fancy apparatus.
Six months.
Maybe.
It was hard to tell, she had said.
‘You doctors, it’s your job to do everything you can to save other people’s lives.’
She didn’t really know why she said that, but she couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was to strip off a little of the officiousness that the doctor radiated. Like goodness personified she stood there pretending to be at the service of all humanity. But she was careful to conceal her own dark secrets; underneath that impeccable surface brooded the same dirty mistakes and shortcomings that all mortals possessed.
Maj-Britt read her reaction at once and it made her want to hammer in the spike a little deeper.
‘To make people live as long as possible, remain here on earth with their families and get to see their children grow up. That’s probably what you doctors are here for. There’s probably nothing that could be more important to you.’
Ellinor was standing in the doorway again.
The doctor bent down and snapped her bag shut, and Maj-Britt saw that she had to brace herself on the arm of the sofa when she stood up. A quick motion with her hand so she wouldn’t lose her balance. Without looking in Maj-Britt’s direction she went out into the hall. Maj-Britt could just make out a terse conversation.
‘Unfortunately there’s nothing more I can do until you contact her care centre and go through the required process. They’ll arrange the referrals to the hospital for further investigation.’
The front door was opened and Ellinor’s last words echoed between the stone walls in the stairwell.
‘Thanks for all your help.’
And then the door was closed.
Ellinor stayed on an extra hour even though she had several clients waiting. Maj-Britt didn’t say much, but Ellinor’s gift of the gab reached new heights in a desperate attempt to convince Maj-Britt to give her permission to ring the care centre. But Maj-Britt didn’t want to. She didn’t intend to suffer through any more examinations, not to mention any operations.
Why should she?
Why should she co-operate at all?
No matter how painful it was to admit, she couldn’t for the life of her come up with anything that was even close to resembling a reason.
29
The woman was a monstrosity. As if she had stepped right out of a horror film. It must be to punish her that fate had set this repulsive woman in Monika’s path. It was as though her s
harp eyes could see straight through her, see right into her, and for some reason that Monika did not understand, the woman was intent on doing her harm.
She had driven the shortest way home and gone straight into the bathroom without even taking off her coat or boots. There she had swallowed two Zopax tablets. She had written herself a prescription for them at the same time as the sleeping pills but hadn’t taken any before.
But she could no longer stand it.
She went into the living room and wandered about, waiting for the pills to take effect. Each second, each instant. It was no longer possible to escape. It was as if there was no room in her body, and at any moment her skin might start to shatter. A feeling that she was about to burst.
And then there was her phone. It kept ringing and ringing, and the noise drove her crazy, but she didn’t dare turn it off. It was proof that there was a functioning reality somewhere, and if she completely cut off contact with it she didn’t know where she might end up. She just couldn’t understand how everything had come to this or what she had to do to put it all right again.
At last.
At last she felt the anxiety loosen its grip, pull in its barbs and dissolve. Letting her breathe. Gratefully she stood in the middle of the room and welcomed the sense of liberation. Stockholm white. That was the colour of the living-room walls. It was odd that in this town it was all right to have Stockholm white on the walls. Almost reassuring in some way. That anything was possible. Just breathe. Breathe calmly and quietly. Nothing else is important. She just had to go and lie down for a bit on the sofa and take time to breathe.
Red brick walls. A cellar. She was in a cellar, but she didn’t know whose. She couldn’t see a door anywhere. She felt with her hands across the rough wall to find a crack or some sign of an opening, but there was none. Suddenly she knew that there was a dead body sealed up inside the wall, she didn’t know who it was but she knew she was the one who had walled it in there. She heard a sound and turned round. Her mother was kneeling and planting an orchid. She had a piece of bread in her hand, which she crumbled up and threw across the floor. Columba livia. They’re best with chanterelles. And then a train was coming. Pernilla stood in the middle of the tracks and the train whistle grew louder. Monika ran as fast as she could but she never got any closer; she wouldn’t be able to save her. She had to make the ringing stop, had to make it stop. Make it stop.
‘Hello?’
She had her mobile in her hand. She was standing in her hallway with her coat and boots on but still wasn’t quite sure.
‘Yes, hi, it’s Pernilla.’
The voice convinced her that she was back in reality, but she was still pleasantly high. She was a safe distance from everything that might hurt her or threaten her and not even her body reacted. Her heart was beating with a calm, regular rhythm.
‘Hi.’
‘I just wanted to hear how you’re doing. Your last visit was a bit brief and I thought maybe you’d taken ill.’
Taken ill. Pernilla’s words were repeated like an echo. Taken ill. Maybe she had. If she was ill then she would certainly be entitled to a few days’ respite from her task, and hadn’t she actually earned it? Only a few days? She was so incredibly tired. If only she could get enough sleep then everything would be better. She’d be able to think clearly again, make a plan for how to proceed, how to solve everything for the best. Right now she was too tired. Her brain had taken on a life of its own and no longer obeyed her. If only she could sleep, everything would be better.
‘Yes, I’ve been ill. I’m in bed with a fever.’
‘Oh no, maybe you caught it from Daniella, she’s not feeling well either.’
Monika didn’t reply. If Daniella was sick she ought to be there. It was part of the agreement, but she just couldn’t. She had to get some sleep.
‘Well, I won’t bother you if you’re not feeling well. Give me a ring when you’re on your feet again. If there’s anything you need, just call, if you need help shopping or anything.’
Monika closed her eyes.
‘Thanks.’
She couldn’t say anymore, and clicked off her phone. With her back pressed against the front door she slid down to the floor. She propped her elbows on her bent knees and hid her face in her hands. The stupor from the pills spared her from fully taking in the thoughts that flashed past. What a fragile line there was between cruelty and care. But what was evil? Who set the rules? Who assumed the right to define a truth that would apply to everyone under any circumstance? All she wanted was to help, fix things, make the unreasonable ‘Never again’ less ruthless. Because everything could be set right if only you made the proper effort. It had to be true! Had to!
She would continue to stand by Pernilla’s side; anything else was unthinkable. She would continue to subordinate herself, be on hand as long as Pernilla needed her, put her own life aside as long as necessary. And yet she knew that in the long run it wouldn’t be enough. It was Pernilla’s husband and her daughter’s father that Monika had stolen, not her best friend. She straightened up and she stared sightlessly at the wall opposite. She hadn’t realised it before, but that was the solution. Pernilla had to meet a new man. A man who could fill Mattias’s place in a completely different way than she herself could ever do. Become a new father to Daniella, take over the burden of supporting them, give Pernilla the love that Mattias’s death had robbed her of.
Monika got to her feet and let her coat drop to the floor. Filled with this new insight she felt everything grow lighter. If she saw to it that Pernilla met a new man, her task would be complete, then she would have fulfilled her obligation. They could still see each other as friends and Pernilla would never know the truth.
Monika’s debt to Mattias would be absolved.
She went into the bedroom and squeezed a sleeping pill out of the foil pack. First of all she had to get some sleep. A good night’s sleep so that her brain would obey her again. Then she would be ready to start to implement her new plan. Coax Pernilla out of her corner, invite her along on a trip abroad, put classified ads in her name on the Internet and in the papers.
She would fix things.
Everything would be put right again.
She let her clothes drop where she stood. The instant her head hit the pillow she was sleeping soundly, convinced that she had finally regained control.
30
Maj-Britt was sitting in her easy chair in the twilight. The shadows grew darker in the flat and finally merged with their surroundings.
Six months.
At first she felt almost nothing. Six months was only a concept of time. Twelve months was a year and six months was half, there was nothing particularly remarkable about that. She counted on her fingers. October the twelfth. October the twelfth plus six months. That would be April. An autumn, a winter, but hardly any spring.
October the twelfth.
It had been October the twelfth many times before in her life, even though she couldn’t remember in detail what she had done on all those days. They had probably passed quite unnoticed like most of the rest. But this October the twelfth would be very special. It would be the very last one.
She had sat there in the easy chair for a good four hours, which meant that the last October the twelfth of her life was already four hours shorter.
It wasn’t leaving life that scared her. So much time and so many years had gone by without her having any use for them. It had been a long time since life had offered her anything that she was especially interested in.
But to die.
To be eradicated without leaving a single trace behind, not even the tiniest impression. As long as she had taken the future for granted, the possibility had always been there, it had been so easy to postpone. But starting now her time was limited; it was counting down and each minute was suddenly a perceptible loss. It was absolutely inconceivable that this was the same ‘time’ that for years had pushed its way forward in such abundance that she had no idea what to do with it. P
ushed forward and past, becoming drowned in meaninglessness. She would vanish without leaving a single tiny trace.
Her hands gripped the arm-rests harder.
Whether she gave her permission or not, she would be forced to surrender herself to the great Beyond, to eternity, and no one knew what awaited anyone there.
Imagine if they had been right. If what they had tried to imprint on her with such zeal was true. What if it was there the great Judgement awaited? If it was true, she knew all too well that her reception would not be a merciful one. It took no deep self-examination to realise which of the scales would weigh more. Maybe He would be standing there on the other side waiting, pleased and satisfied finally to have her under His power. Now that her right to choose had been used up and she unquestionably deserved a sort of retribution.
There was no reason to live, but did she dare to die? How could she dare surrender to eternity when she didn’t know what it involved?
The ultimate loneliness.
For eternity.
When so much was left undone.
The darkness in the flat took over and her unease grew stronger. With each moment that passed it became more and more obvious. In some way she would have to balance out the scales.
She saw the woman before her, the one who had stood there in her room a few hours ago and pronounced her death sentence, glancing furtively at her thin wrist with its expensive watch, and then with a frightened look hurrying off. Outwardly so irreproachable but so conscious of her guilt. When the next October the twelfth came she wouldn’t remember either Maj-Britt or this day. It would all have been lost somewhere in the jumble of other dying patients and days that were no different from any other. In peace and quiet she would be able to continue her life down here on earth, with all the time in the world to absolve her guilt.
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