Yesterday's News

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Yesterday's News Page 22

by Kajsa Ingemarsson


  “Really?”

  “Lola,” added Agnes, but the name didn’t seem to say anything to him. “If her food was just as bad as yours, we’re done for.”

  “It can’t be that serious, can it?” David was looking amused. Agnes became irritated.

  “Yes, actually,” she hissed. David stopped smiling.

  “But if she’s as important as you say, she’ll come again and again.” He tilted his head a little to one side, appealingly. “She can’t judge the place after just one visit. Can she? And you usually serve wonderful food. This was an exception. It happens.”

  Agnes shook her head skeptically. “She has been here before, and sure this evening was an exception, but it’ll still color her judgment. A bad review is the kiss of death for a restaurant.”

  “But surely you’re exaggerating.”

  “I wish I was, but it’s true. Everyone in the business knows that. I know loads of restaurants that have had to close down after a hammering by Lola.”

  “But then they deserved it, didn’t they?”

  “Possibly, but I don’t think we do simply because the chefs happened to be off sick one evening.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry yourself. You’ve got a good restaurant �� I should know, I’m a guest here!” He laughed. Agnes softened.

  “Thanks. That’s kind of you.”

  They sat in silence for a while, while David ate up the last of his tiramisu and Agnes thought about Lola: maybe one bad evening might not be enough for a panning after all. She stood up and was just about to clear away the plates at another table when David started to speak again.

  “By the way, have you been away somewhere? I haven’t seen you for a while out in Aspudden.”

  “Yes, I have.” She stopped. David looked like he was waiting for more. “My mom died ten days ago.” The words felt strange in her mouth. “I’ve been at home with my dad. And then there was the funeral last Friday.”

  “But.… that’s awful. She can’t have been very old.”

  “Fifty-seven.”

  “Had she been ill for a long time?”

  “No. It was a road accident.”

  “That’s awful…,” he said again. Agnes started to gather up the empty coffee cups from the table.

  David rose. “You know, I’m really sorry to hear about your mom. My condolences.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll be off then.” He made his way to the exit but checked himself after a few steps. “Oh, silly me, I forgot to pay.” He started rummaging around for his wallet. Agnes waved her hand in dismissal.

  “Forget it! I can’t accept payment for this. Give us a new chance another time instead.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, OK, then.” He smiled and took another step toward the door before stopping again. “Listen… would you be interested in stopping by when you’re done? So that I might return the offer? Of a cup of tea or something?” He looked so self-conscious that Agnes almost burst out laughing. But she restrained herself instead; it wasn’t nice to laugh at someone who was shy.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “I’d be delighted. If you want to, that is,” he added quickly. “You can come over as late as you like, I usually stay up late.”

  “Playing music, eh?”

  “Yes.… Why?”

  “The walls are quite thin.”

  “Have I been too loud again?” He looked mortified.

  “No, it’s all right. The problem isn’t so much how you play, but what.…”

  David looked miserable. “I’m terribly sorry, I really do have no taste in music.”

  “I know.” Agnes smiled.

  “No, I mean I really do have no taste in music. Literally. I was one of those real stamp-collector drips when I was a kid. Just sat at home all the time reading. I’m really trying to learn all this music stuff.”

  “Can’t you practice with something other than Pink Floyd and Bob Dylan…?”

  David sighed. “I got to borrow a load of CDs from a friend. He selected stuff he liked to listen to, he said. It was meant to be part of general music knowledge. But I’m not so sure myself if I like everything.…”

  “Well there you go,” said Agnes with a laugh. “You have some taste in music after all!”

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that.…” David smiled and opened the door. “And as I said, it’d be nice if you dropped by.” She met his gaze. He also had brown eyes, light brown, just like hers. Kind eyes.

  “OK, then, why not?” she said after a second’s hesitation. Her decision surprised her. Sitting drinking tea in the middle of the night wasn’t really her thing and David Kummel wasn’t exactly a close friend. And yet the thought of being alone suddenly didn’t feel so enticing. It had been a pretty trying evening. And not just the evening, in fact: her whole life seemed pretty trying at the moment. It wouldn’t do any harm to have a little company, and on closer reflection David Kummel didn’t seem so crazy after all. If things got boring at least she wouldn’t have far to go home.

  David went, leaving Agnes alone. It was going to take time clearing up the kitchen, but it wasn’t that late. She’d closed the restaurant an hour earlier than usual to avoid having any more guests.

  After an hour’s cleaning and tidying she was done. Just as she was setting the alarm she remembered the champagne bottle on the bar. She’d pushed the cork back in as far as it would go, but it would hardly keep until the next day. It’d be a pity to let almost a whole bottle of Pol Roger go to waste, so she might as well take it back to David’s. In some strange way, she was even starting to look forward to the visit.

  Agnes looked up at the façade. The lights were off everywhere apart from in Kummel’s apartment. She punched in the key code and opened the door. It was dark in the stairwell, too, and Agnes switched on the light. She took the steps – she was, after all, only going to the second floor. Outside Kummel’s door she came to a halt. She didn’t feel particularly clean and fresh after the evening’s ordeals. Maybe she should go up and put on another top? Brush her hair?

  She started climbing the next flight of steps. Half way up, the automatic light went out. With her hand on the banister rail, she walked the last few steps in the darkness and located the luminous red light switch by her door. When she depressed it and the light flooded across her landing she almost collapsed in shock. Outside her front door sat a figure on the floor with a large duffel bag beside him.

  It was Tobias.

  CHAPTER 33

  AGNES STOOD STOCK-STILL. The echo of her scream could still be heard as a faint ringing between the walls of the stairwell. She stared at Tobias. He looked at her. And then he slowly got to his feet and stepped towards Agnes. She backed away.

  “What are you doing here?” She tried to sound calm, but her heart was thumping as if she’d just completed a marathon.

  “Can we go inside and talk?”

  Agnes didn’t want to let him in. She wanted to tell him to fuck off. Instead, she pulled her keys out of her coat pocket and with her eyes fixed on the keyhole, unlocked the door. She entered first. Tobias waited until she’d removed her shoes before stepping inside after her. He stood awkwardly for a while in the little hallway as if waiting for a “Come in!” None came. Agnes went into her sitting room and sat in the armchair. Not on the sofa, which could accommodate the two of them. She crossed her legs. And her arms. And she waited.

  Tobias removed his black jacket and his boots and followed her in. He walked gingerly, as if the floor was strewn with broken glass. He stopped again. No “take a seat” was heard. He walked over to the sofa and perched himself on the very edge. It looked forced and uncomfortable. Agnes looked at him with as much hostility as she could muster.

  “You look sad.”

  Her strategy was clearly not working. She didn’t want to look sad. She wanted to be incensed. Disdainful. Condescending. Indifferent. Happy. Anything but sad.


  “What do you want?”

  Tobias fiddled nervously with one of the sofa cushions. “I thought we might have a talk.”

  “In the middle of the night? With a bag of clothes in your hand?”

  “You’ve been working, haven’t you? I’ve been here for quite a long time waiting for you to come home.”

  Yeah, and? she wanted to reply. What did he mean – that she should feel flattered because he’d been sitting for hours in her stairwell? She continued to stare at him.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’ve missed you.” Long silence. Her heart, which had just managed to calm down a little, started to pound again. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a Playboy Bunny on it. Agnes hadn’t seen it before. A present from the girlfriend, perchance?

  “And?”

  “And.…” He faltered. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d missed me, too.…”

  Missed Tobias? Where had he got that idea from? She’d cried a few tears and that was that. What did he think? That she still went around missing him?

  “And what would you do about it if I had?”

  “I don’t know. I just wanted to meet with you, to talk.”

  “And what does your girlfriend think about you going home to your ex in the middle of the night to ‘talk’?”

  Tobias squirmed uneasily. He didn’t like the question, that was obvious. “She’s not my girlfriend any more. Or.… How shall I put it?” He thought for a moment in a state of considerable torment before putting his thoughts into words. “We’re taking a break,” he said finally. He was looking embarrassed, as if he’d just farted lustily and was now trying to come up with a suitable excuse.

  “So you’re taking a break, and you come here in the middle of the night with a bag of clothes to ‘talk’? Have I got it right?” Agnes was fairly convinced that for the moment she was delivering her hostile look rather well.

  “I realize how it sounds, but it’s not like that.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I have missed you. I’ve been longing to see you again. That was one of the reasons why we’re taking this break.” Tobias was looking pleased with himself for having salvaged the situation. For a moment, at least. Agnes pounced on the opening he’d left.

  “And what were the other reasons?”

  He sighed. “Does that matter? Come on, this is about you and me.” Agnes looked at him in silence until he started to squirm again. Eventually he began to talk. “It was Ida. She was unsure, didn’t know if she’d sorted everything out with her ex. Wanted to check things out. You know.…”

  “So you decided to join her and ‘check things out’ yourself?”

  Tobias lit up. At last Agnes had understood. “Yes, exactly!”

  Agnes didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What she’d just heard was almost implausibly brazen, even for Tobias.

  “And what did you think I’d make of that?”

  “I don’t know, Agnes, that’s for you to decide.”

  Now that was true. It was for her to decide. The fact was that she’d already decided. She wanted nothing more to do with Tobias. He was out of her life, now he just had to get out of her apartment. She made an attempt to rise, intending to go to her front door, point at it and say, “Out!” – but nothing happened. The hands with which she was going to resolutely push against the armrests, the legs which she was going to brace against the floor, the mouth with which she was going to form the words – all remained motionless. The only thing that worked was her breathing, but even that was playing up. Her breaths came in short, shallow, spasmodic bursts.

  Instead it was Tobias who got up. He walked over to her armchair and dropped onto his knee beside it.

  “Agnes, I know you’re angry. And sad. And I’m not asking you to welcome me back with open arms. All I’m asking for is a chance. Search your heart about what you want. Maybe you haven’t got any feelings left for me, in which case I’ll go when you ask me to. But maybe you have. Don’t you owe it to yourself to search your heart? Tobias reached out his arm and grasped Agnes’s hand. It was still immobile. It was he who had to lift it, squeeze it, place it against his cheek. Agnes just sat.

  “OK,” she said at last. Her voice was so little that the words hardly came out of her mouth. But Tobias heard them. He smiled – not happily, more sadly and gratefully.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll get the sofa made up.”

  Agnes couldn’t sleep, and lay staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t dusted away the flies from the lamp. They weren’t noticeable when it was off, but she knew they were there. Dry, brittle, disgusting. And out there, on the other side of the wall, on her sofa, under her striped blue comforter, lay Tobias. Was he asleep? Or was he lying there awake just like she was?

  They hadn’t said any more. He’d just made himself at home and taken out the extra blanket and sheet, taken his toothbrush from his bag and disappeared for a while into the bathroom. Agnes had waited in the kitchen. She had time for a hundred pangs of regret while listening to the water draining down the basin, the toilet being used and then flushed. Yet still she said nothing when he finished, came out and said goodnight to her. He moved cautiously in the apartment, spoke quietly. As if he were afraid that a sudden movement or an unexpected sound would unleash all the words that she hadn’t managed to say.

  And now they lay there, on either side of the wall, waiting. For what? The answers to appear?

  Eventually she felt drowsiness descend upon her. Her head felt heavy against her pillow. Her breathing grew deep and even. Her legs twitched once or twice and then she was asleep.

  When she awoke, it was light, and the sunlight was seeping in along the edges of her blind. She stretched, rolled over so that she lay facing the door. She jolted awake. There in the doorway stood Tobias. Wearing only his underpants. Black, tight. She’d almost forgotten how slim he was, bordering on too thin. The dark hair hung at his shoulders, the green eyes looked at her. And then he walked over to the bed and without saying a word, lifted the comforter and crept in beside her.

  Afterwards, she wasn’t really able to explain how it had happened. All she knew was that she didn’t regret it. The feeling of Tobias’s skin against hers, his smell, his dark hair between her fingers. It was as if her muscles had been locked in a cramp for five months, as if her lungs had been only half filled with air since the night he called and said it was over. That was how it felt now as she lay in his arms, relaxed, almost floppy, high on oxygen. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, rested his hand on her stomach and let it lie there in the swell, like a flat-bottomed rowing boat. All the resistance that she had built up was gone. She couldn’t even remember why she wanted to resist. Resist what? The man who was lying at her side in the bed and who made her feel so good? Who made her want to laugh in the midst of all her grief?

  “Mom’s dead,” she said suddenly. Tobias must have dropped off, because he jerked. “What did you say?” Tobias hoisted himself onto his elbows.

  “Mom’s dead,” repeated Agnes. “We buried her last Friday. She was hit by a car when she was riding her bike.”

  Tobias looked shocked. “No, that can’t be true.… You’re joking?” Agnes continued to look at him. She wasn’t joking. “Maud…. Is Maud dead?” His eyes turned glossy. “That’s terrible,” he said over and over again. “Agnes, baby, that’s terrible.” He pulled her close to him and hugged her long and hard. They lay like that until the tragic news slowly paled and they started to kiss again.

  They stayed in bed until Kalle called just after lunch. By that time, the sheet was full of crumbs from the sandwiches that Tobias had made for them. A cold, half-drunk cup of coffee stood on Agnes’s bedside table. She hadn’t had time to finish it. On the other hand, the bottle of Champagne she’d taken home with her was empty.

  Reluctantly she lifted the receiver and shuffled up into a half-sitting position. She pulled up the comforter to cover herself. Tobias pulled it down again and kissed her naked br
easts. “Beautiful,” he mumbled while Agnes spoke to Kalle. Somewhat distractedly.

  “How did it go yesterday?”

  “Yesterday? You mean with…?

  “Rolf.”

  “Rolf? Oh, right, you mean Rolf. What did you say you wanted to know about him?”

  “How it went.”

  “It went.… er, hang on.” Agnes put her hand over the mouthpiece and shoved away Tobias, who was making his way down over her stomach. She frowned silently at him and pointed at the phone. He grinned at her, but turned obediently onto his side and just softly stroked the inside of her thigh with one finger. Agnes tried again. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “Have I called at a bad time?”

  “No, not at all. I just had to, er… turn the radio off.”

  “Ah ha. So, anyway, I was wondering how it went yesterday. At the restaurant, with Rolf.”

  “What can I say? Do you want the truth or do you want me to say it went well?”

  “Oh-oh. Should I be worried?”

  “Well, let’s say that Rolf had exaggerated his qualifications a little.”

  “You’re kidding! He said he’d worked at classy places like KB and L’escargot.…”

  “That was no doubt before he started drinking beer on park benches and sleeping outdoors, in that case.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Unless there’s another KB, you know, like where they serve steak and fries and instant mashed potatoes.”

  She heard Kalle give a groan. Agnes was close to doing the same as Tobias let his finger resume its meandering over her body.

  “I’m sorry, Agnes. I had no idea things were that bad.”

  “It’s OK, I survived, but I don’t think you’re going to like what’s coming next.”

  “Is there more?”

  “’fraid so.” Agnes lifted away Tobias’s hand again, attempting another stern look.

  “He stole booze?”

 

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