“Aren’t you stressing yourself to death?” Agnes felt the prick of a bad conscience again. What had she done? Gone to the labor exchange, drunk a caffe latte, and made some soup.
“Yeah, no doubt.” Lussan emptied her glass and filled it with some more wine. “But it’s fun, too. And lucrative.” She laughed. “So how’s it going with Tobias? Or without him, more to the point. You haven’t called him, I hope?” Lussan gave Agnes a stern look.
“No. I haven’t, actually.”
“Good!” Lussan applauded.
“I’ve decided I’ve had enough now.”
“At last. Here’s to that!” Lussan had never tried to hide her lack of enthusiasm for Agnes’s boyfriend. “What made you decide this time? I mean, from the outside it looked undeniably like history just repeating itself.…”
“That’s possible,” answered Agnes curtly. She might have decided, but that didn’t mean everyone, even Lussan, was free to run down her entire relationship with Tobias.
“Come on, Agnes. Now that it’s over you’ve got to admit that he was an asshole to you.”
“No, actually I don’t agree. And I don’t feel like discussing this with you now. I know what you think of Tobias. But he was my boyfriend for more than four years and to be honest I love.…” Agnes stopped herself. “And to be honest I loved him, believe it or not.”
Lussan sighed. How could clever, lovely, beautiful Agnes find anything at all likeable in that overgrown teenager, who’d treated her like a cheap doormat from Ikea? He wasn’t even good looking, but of course, that was Lussan’s own opinion. Many people wouldn’t agree. Herself, she preferred the Clark Kent type. Well-built guys in glasses, dressed in something tailored by Hugo Boss or possibly Tiger. The problem was just that they were hard to come by. Maybe they were more common in telephone booths in Manhattan than among Stockholm’s estate agent crowd? Lussan tittered. Tobias… a leather-clad rocker with weedy legs and the decidedly bad habit of playing air guitar at parties instead of dancing. No, thanks. She could only congratulate her friend for having him dump her in such a tacky way that not even Agnes was prepared to forgive this time. It was about time.
Agnes cleared the table and Lussan poured the last of the wine.
“Haven’t you got any more wine? I should have bought two. That was stupid of me.”
“No, I’m afraid not. Do you want coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
“I might have a splash of whisky left. Do you want it?”
“Please.”
Agnes took the bottle from her pantry, poured a glass, and gave it to Lussan. “Thanks. You not having any?”
“No, whisky’s not my thing.”
“Why have you got some, then?”
“Tobias likes it. Bourbon.…”
“So the bottle’s his?”
“Well, technically speaking, it’s mine, I suppose. I was the one who bought it.”
“But he was the one who drank it? Nice division of roles.…”
“Lussan!”
“Sorry, sorry.…” Lussan shrugged as if to show that her comment was unintentional. The grin that followed, however, betrayed the opposite. She pointed at the bottle that Agnes was still holding in her hand. “But pour me the rest and I’ll personally make sure to exorcise that greasy headbanger’s spirit from this house!”
“There’s almost a half a glassful left.…” Agnes held up the bottle of Four Roses and looked doubtfully at Lussan.
“I’ll sacrifice myself. What wouldn’t I do for my best friend? Bring the bastard over here!” She took the bottle from Agnes and poured a glass. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“Definitely.”
“OK, then. Farewell, Tobias. The next time we meet, you’ll be urine. That’ll make a nice change for you, won’t it, you little shit!” Lussan grimaced as she swallowed the whisky with a gulp. Agnes couldn’t help laughing. “Know what you need, Agnes?”
“No.”
“Sex.”
“Stop it, you sound like that hysterical whatsername in Sex and the City!” Agnes felt pleased with herself; after three weeks of unemployment she could also make references to a TV series.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant as one.”
“I know. Nevertheless, sex is what you need. To flush out the last of Tobias’s studded belts from your system.”
“I’m already done with that.”
“Ha! I know you. You are not done. Not until you’ve had sex with a new guy.”
“I don’t want a new guy. I want to finish mourning the one I’ve just lost.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive. On the contrary. And anyway, I’m not talking about a new boyfriend, just someone to have a little straightforward, uncomplicated.…”
“Yes, yes, I get the picture!”
“Good. Ready to take a trip down town, then?”
“No way.”
Lussan sighed. “You should’ve shared that whisky with me.…”
“I shared a bottle of wine with you. That’s more than enough.”
“Obviously not. Won’t you be persuaded?”
“No. If I’m going anywhere, it’s to bed. And shouldn’t you do the same? Aren’t you working tomorrow?”
“Of course I am. But I’ve got to live a little, too.”
“I live well like this.”
“That’s just what you think. Because you don’t know what the alternative is. But listen, let’s go out on Saturday.”
“Can’t we make it Sunday instead? There are fewer people around.”
“But honey, haven’t you understood anything? It’s not fewer people we need for this mission, it’s more. Maximize your chances!”
“OK, OK, Saturday it is. But all that sex stuff you can forget. We can go out and have a drink, that’s all.”
“Sure, if that’s what you say, a drink. Absolutely.” Lussan grinned and then glanced at her watch. “Quarter past eleven. Well, I guess I ought to be hitting the road.”
Agnes yawned. “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty tired myself.”
Lussan stood up and walked into the hall to get her coat. When she’d done up the buttons on her short, close-fitting coat and the zip on her boots, she embraced Agnes and pecked her on the cheek. “Sleep well, hon, and thanks for a lovely meal. And don’t forget Saturday. Sex time!”
“Drinks.”
“Sure. Drinks and sex.”
CHAPTER 8
“HI, MOM, IT’S ME!”
“Agnes! At last! Heaven knows how many messages I’ve left on your answering machine. Is it broken?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “How are you? You’ve been on our minds so much. Have you got yourself a job yet? Has Tobias come back?”
“Calm down, Mom!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that your dad and I have been so worried. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve just got a slight cold.”
“You poor thing.”
“It’s all right.”
“So how’s it going with work?”
“Something will turn up soon.” She didn’t want to worry her parents, they had their own problems to concern themselves with. “I’m applying for different jobs here and there.” This wasn’t true. She hadn’t been bothered to call any of the jobs that Leif Grönberg had picked out for her.
“Well, then, it’ll just be a matter of time. You’re so clever. You’ll be able to pick and choose, you’ll see.”
“Hmm, perhaps.…”
“And Tobias?”
“No change.”
“So he hasn’t.…”
“No.” Agnes took a deep breath. “And in truth I don’t think he will, either.”
“What are you saying? Surely he’ll be coming back? It’s so common these days for people to take a little break. I daresay he needed to get away a bit, get a little distance, don’t you think?” It was almost amus
ing to hear her mom defend him. The fact was that Maud was the only person close to Agnes who did so. He’d managed to charm her totally. Agnes didn’t quite understand how. He hardly looked like some kind of mother-in-law’s dream, but Maud had melted like an ice cream on a beach the first time Agnes brought him home. Maybe it was because he’d spent an hour out in the garden discussing greenfly and soapy water with her.
Just where he’d got all that knowledge from Agnes never really understood but he was obviously able to keep up with the discussion enough for Maud to take him to her heart. She’d even bake his favorite cakes, coconut macaroons, when she knew he was coming to visit.
“I don’t think he’ll be coming back, Mom. And if he does, I’m afraid he won’t be welcome.” There, it was said. The line went silent. Agnes could actually hear her mom trying to get her head round it.
“Is there nothing I can do?” she said eventually.
“No, Mom, nothing at all. I think we should stop talking about Tobias now. Tell me about you and Dad instead.”
Maud sighed resignedly, but then collected herself. “Yes, well, it was our last day at the factory yesterday. There were over fifty of us who’d opted for early retirement, so we had to assemble in the cafeteria. There were speeches and they thanked us for all we’d done for the company. And then we got some coffee and cake.”
“And that was all?”
“Yes.…” Maud hesitated. “Do you think there ought to have been something else?”
“I don’t know.… It just doesn’t make sense to me. What about the others?”
“Some of them will be working for another three months, and others six. And then it’s all over.”
“They’ll have closed down the factory?”
“Yes.”
“So what’ll you and Dad do now?”
“We’re going to take a course.”
“A course?”
“Yes. On Monday, Sven and I are going to start a computer course. Didn’t we tell you that the last time you were home?”
“But a computer course.… You don’t know anything about computers!”
“No, that’s the point.”
“You don’t even have your own computer.”
“We do now. We went out and bought one yesterday, Sven and I, after the cakes. The company paid for half. It’s down in the recreation room, and gosh is it nice!” Agnes didn’t know what to say. How nice could a computer be? And what were her parents going to do with it? Her mom, who thought that a push-button phone was complicated; would she really be able to learn to use Windows?
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Well, take the Internet, for example. All that seems very exciting.” Exciting? Her mom thought Internet was exciting. What did she know about it? Was it something they wrote about in her housewives’ weekly? Agnes didn’t know. She hadn’t read one for a long time. Maybe it had changed, maybe they had nude centerfolds, too. An IT column and porn. She must check it out; maybe it wasn’t suitable reading for her parents any more.
“So you’re going to learn how to surf the net, are you?” she asked hesitantly.
“Surf? Is that what they say? Yes, I’ve heard Jonas and Madde at it. Jonas was over here and helped us connect it all up, by the way. I’ve never seen so many wires! So soon we’ll be able to send each other those email thingies. Won’t that be fun?”
Agnes peered furtively at her own computer. She’d inherited Lussan’s old one when she updated last year. It wasn’t a fast machine, and surfing was out of the question. You could hardly keep yourself afloat in cyberspace on it. Agnes didn’t use it much, just to send the odd email. But the thought of corresponding with her parents via email was just as conceivable as Maud serving up a Mongolian barbecue for Sunday lunch.
They chatted a while longer. Agnes learned that Madde had had lovely highlights put in; that aunt Gullan had been given a date for her varicose vein operation and would therefore be coming home for a week from Marbella, where she now spent the winters; that the Fjellners had gone to Lanzarote; and that the snowdrops had started to come out by the garage wall. Then Sven took the receiver and exchanged a few words with his eldest daughter.
Agnes listened for signs of distress, grief, depression, or at least a little dejection, but there were none to hear. Maud and Sven didn’t seem the slightest bit sad. She found that hard to fathom. Shouldn’t being laid off leave deeper marks than that? Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it’d come later, in a few weeks or months. When they realized that it was over for good. That they’d never pass through the Länninge factory’s lattice-work gates again, greet Sigge and Erland in the guardhouse, and get changed into their blue overalls in the splash-painted changing room. Well, she supposed they’d have to settle into things, take one day at a time. At least they had each other.
So they ended the call with kisses and hugs, and Agnes promised to visit them again soon.
It was time to get ready. Agnes jumped into the shower and washed her hair thoroughly, letting the conditioner work for three minutes while she massaged her body with exfoliator. The hot water and the tiny grains in the cream turned her skin bright pink. She even shaved her armpits, despite intending to wear sleeves. She then climbed out of the shower, dried herself off, and smeared herself with moisturizer. And hesitated for a second before dabbing a few small, very small, drops of Cool Water behind each ear.
She hadn’t felt much like going out earlier in the day, quite the opposite, actually – she’d rather have sat at home with a bag of chips and a cup of tea. It would have suited her life better. But now she was starting to feel something resembling expectation. She hadn’t been out for a while, as a guest that is. She never used to go out without Tobias, and even that could hardly be called an everyday occurrence. Once he was home, he’d usually just want to chill. He got enough partying through his work, he used to say. And that was fine by Agnes, she also preferred snuggling up at home to standing and shouting at each other like two strangers in a bar. She’d been out with Lussan a few days after Tobias had dumped her, but she’d done little else but sit there sobbing into her beer while Lussan had done her best to console her, even though, to be honest, that pretty much involved her telling Agnes what a jerk Tobias was.
It wasn’t as though she was in a party mood, she still woke up each morning wondering where her life had gone, but at least she might not spend the evening bursting into tears every five minutes as she’d done the last time that she and Lussan had gone out.
Agnes stood choosing for a while in front of her closet. It’d have to be the Filippa K jeans and a black sweater. She felt classy, but not dressed up. She massaged a little extra-strong mousse into her hair before bowing her head to the floor and blow-drying it. The result was big. Too big, and she had to comb it down again with a little water. Even though it was mid-winter, her hair looked sun-bleached as if she’d just come back from a holiday to the seaside. It never got darker than this. She should have been blue-eyed, she often thought. Like the others in her family. It would have matched the pale skin and fair hair better. It wasn’t as if her eyes were dark brown or anything, more hazel, but she was certainly different from the rest of her family. It was only her and her aunt Gullan who’d inherited her maternal grandmother’s brown eyes. Madde was envious, her eyes were gray, gray-green with a little goodwill. On the other hand her hair was darker, “dull rat” as she called it. Agnes didn’t agree. She thought Madde the prettier of the two, with her little button nose and a face than went all freckly in the summer.
Agnes was tall – or gangly, as she saw it. When she was younger, she’d tried to shrink herself so as not to always be tallest. The school nurse had reprimanded her, said that she had to stand up straight so as not to develop back problems. Agnes thought that was a stupid comment. She already had a back problem. It was too long, just like her legs, neck, and arms. "Perfect model proportions the nurse had said by way of comfort, but that hardly helped when you were fourteen and taller than every
single boy in the class. If she straightened her back, it’d also make it obvious that she didn’t have any breasts. Bent slightly forward, she could possibly deceive some hormone-addled teenage boy into thinking that concealed under string- bean Edin’s baggy top was all manner of thrills.
Agnes looked at herself in the mirror. She was grown up now, that was good. Her bangs flopped down to her eyebrows and the rest of her hair she waxed into wisps around her narrow face. She didn’t apply much makeup, just a little mascara and a touch of lip gloss. She could probably have used more, emphasized her eyes and her high cheekbones, but she never felt comfortable when she did. Never thought her face went together with the rest of her body. She looked all right, she knew that, but she didn’t like being noticed. At least not in the way Lussan did.
They were to meet at Lussan’s for a drink before going out, and Agnes took the subway into Fridhemsplan. From there she walked the few feet to the front porch on Sankt Eriksgatan.
Lussan opened her door with a drink in her hand. She whistled when she caught sight of Agnes.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous!” she said jauntily. When Agnes took off her duffel coat, Lussan studied her critically and shook her head. “You look great, Agnes…” she said with a frown, “…for a day in the office. Don’t you want to borrow a skirt? Or a top, maybe. I’ve got loads!”
“No, thanks,” Agnes sighed. OK, she felt bland in comparison with Lussan, who’d definitely dressed up for a party with her short skirt, plunging neckline under a leather jacket, patterned tights, and very red lipstick, but so be it. They clearly had different objectives for the evening. Agnes received a glass and coughed on taking the first sip.
“Are you trying to get me drunk before we even go out?”
Lussan pretended to look hurt. “Don’t you like my gin? Go ahead, be boring, why don’t you. There’s tonic in the fridge.” Agnes went into the kitchen and filled her glass up to the rim with fizz. Lussan paced her disorderly apartment, touching up her makeup, putting in earrings, taking out earrings, topping up her glass, trying boots, and talking incessantly. Rejected clothes lay in heaps on chairs and the floor, and the clutter in the bathroom was almost impenetrable. Lussan was as indifferent toward her home as she was careful with her appearance.
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