I leaned on the car and Kicki came over and took me by the arm.
“We’ll go into this car for a while so that you can sober up.”
“Yes, I like Uffe!” I said and waited while he climbed out and folded the front backrest forward. Kicki got to sit in front, because I laid down on the back seat.
“Is she really so damn drunk?” Uffe said.
He wanted us to go with him to Ängby Park and listen to Carli Tornehave, but I didn’t feel like it, so we went back into town again after a while.
There were loads of guys who stopped. Once there was a line of cars, and when we went up to the guys who had stopped first, the guys in the car behind hooted and shouted that we should come to them instead, and behind them, in another car, there were two more guys sitting and waiting for their turn. We could just pick and choose. But I didn’t want to go with any of them. Finally, Kicki just pushed me into a car and hopped in herself after me. One of the guys was sitting in the back, and he had a bottle which I took and started to drink from. At first I smoked and drank, then I climbed over to the front seat to the other guy, called Lasse. He looked better than the guy in back but he was rather taciturn, so at first I couldn’t make him out.
They gave us a lift home. When Kicki had left, the guy in the back said: “The broad had a fucking hammock! I don’t like broads with hammocks.”
He was totally screwy. It was fortunate that I got Lasse. And he wanted to see me again and is going to meet me at the bus stop tonight.
“And then we’ll see to it that you stop drinking,” he said.
“We will?”
“Yes, it isn’t good for you to carry on like this.”
But I don’t think it will work. And I don’t know if I want to, either.
“Do we have an agreement, then?”
“Yes,” I said and thought: I can see him tomorrow, because then there aren’t many who have spirits anyway, and then, when he has seen how I am when sober, he may not want to meet me anymore, and then I can keep on cruising and drinking.
When we got there and I was about to go, he gazed at me and stroked my cheek.
“Little troll,” he said. “Go in and sleep now, and we’ll see each other again tomorrow. Or tonight, rather.”
And then he kissed me. He was gentle and rather handsome, but I don’t know if I want to see him again, anyway.
I was afraid that I wouldn’t like Lasse when I was sober and almost hoped that he wouldn’t come, but he did. First we went to the movies, to see “Now It’s Fun Again,” with Jerry Lewis, and then we drove to Savoy and had coffee. He had on a white nylon shirt, gray Jersey vest, dark blue necktie, dark blue blazer and grey, terylene pants. I thought he was handsome, but I still don’t know if I want to see him again. If he calls me tomorrow, as he said he would, I don’t know what I’m going to say.
His name is Lars-Erik Engström and he works for the Swedish Telecom. When I asked him about his interests, he said that he reads all the latest books and listens to music a lot and tries to follow the world current events.
I had put some money in the jukebox and pressed the button for “Tennessee Waltz”, and when it started playing I asked him what he thought of it.
“Well, it’s fun,” he said. “But otherwise, I prefer jazz.”
I don’t know what to make of him. He seems superior and shy at the same time. He sat and held my hand the whole time at the movies, and then in the car, before he drove me home, he hugged me and kissed me and gave me all kinds of pet names. Sometimes he just looked at me and drew me towards him as if he couldn’t resist me. But he was probably bluffing, because how could he already be in love with me? Anyway, I’m not in love with him.
“Now we are going to help one another to get you stop drinking,” he said.
I would rather go on cruising and drinking than see him, but I couldn’t tell him, because then he probably would have become sad. And when he realizes that he isn’t going to get to lay me, he probably won’t want to see me anymore, and then I can go out again.
It says in the Upsala Nya Tidning about a watch heist that they say Älgen was in on. All the watches worth less than 250 kronor were thrown in the Fyris River, and now the police, or whoever it was, have fished them up again. I don’t know if it’s true that Älgen was in on it, but somebody said so before.
Lasse called and said that he wants to see me tomorrow evening, and we decided that he would pick me up at the bus stop again. I think it’s better to meet him there, rather than have him fetch me at home, because if he wouldn’t come, I won’t be able to get to town if the bus has already left.
I have decided to meet him tomorrow, but never again. I’m going to say that I don’t feel ready to go steady and that I don’t think I can stop drinking. I know that he will be sad and not understand, but I have to tell the truth, so that he doesn’t think I’m better than I am. I met him too soon. He is big and wise and I am little and dumb. I could just as well go out with pop or someone like him.
Wednesday, 26 August 1964
There was a mistake on Saturday, because I’m practically certain of, that from the beginning Lasse was more interested in me than in E-L. But if he had chosen me, E-L would have been sulky, because that’s the way she gets whenever she doesn’t get the one she wants. And she just helped herself, without waiting to see whom he would choose. She put her arms around him from the back seat and said that she thought he was cute. And he fell for that. He was probably flattered. But she wouldn’t have said it if she hadn’t been drunk. She wouldn’t have dared to do it otherwise, because she doesn’t do things like that when she is sober. No, then she would have just been sitting there thinking: I hope he chooses me, I hope he chooses me!” And in that case he might not have done that. I think that he either would have refrained or chosen me.
When I got to town, Lasse was already there. He sat with the driver side door open and smoked and read Expressen. I opened the passenger door and sat down beside him, and he folded the newspaper and gazed at me.
“Hi, Star Eye,” he said.
That’s what he called me on Sunday too. Then he kissed me and said that he had missed me and asked me what I would like to do. I wanted to suggest that we go to Kap and watch Alma Cogan, but I wasn’t sure that he was interested in her, so I just said I didn’t know.
We went to Landings and had coffee. He took my hand and gazed into my eyes and said that he had thought of me every day.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.
“Why not? I can’t resist looking at you. You are so beautiful, my little one. Don’t you know it?”
“No, I’m not.”
I was almost angry with him because he laid it on so thick.
“Yes, for me you are,” he said.
Then we cruised around for a while before he drove me home. He stopped at the same side road as last time and started to fondle and kiss me again. His hands were warm and tender, but I didn’t like his kisses. I didn’t like them the first or second time, either.
“What have you done to me?” he said. “I’m at my wits’ end!”
And then he hugged me and said:
“You little bundle of charm! This we should celebrate by buying a bottle of booze for Saturday!”
I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say. He has said that he will help me to stop drinking, and he almost never drinks himself, so why does he want us to do it? I didn’t ask, because then he might have changed his mind. I just decided that I’ll meet him one more time. If he buys the liquor, and I drink it so that I become drunk, he might not want to see me again, and then I won’t have to say that I want to be free.
Then he went a little further than before, but only above my waist.
“You are so beautiful, my little one!” he said and gazed at my breasts. “There must be someone with a good eye for me up there, who let me meet you.”
He stroked and licked one of them so I felt thrills. He was also turned on, but he still didn’t get
any further. Why didn’t he? Did he know I would say no if he tried for more? But just because he didn’t, it was almost as if I wanted him to.
“No, now it’s best if I give you a lift home before I lose my senses,” he said and pulled my bra down. “May I call you on Friday?”
“Yes, of course, you may,” I said.
I wanted to remind him about buying liquor, but before I could say anything, he said:
“I’ll ask Leffe if he can drive on Saturday so that we can really have a booze-up!”
I don’t know what I want to do after Saturday. He is gentle and nice, and he seems to like me, but it’s so boring to always know beforehand what will happen when you go out. But you go into town to meet a guy who is gentle and nice and whom you can go out with. At least, that’s how it was before I started to drink. I don’t know what to do. If I keep on cruising and drinking everything may go to hell in the end, and I don’t want that. Why can’t Lasse have a big raggarbil and be a little more interested in spirits? And he should like the same kind of music as I like and have plenty of records in his car that I could play while we glided around town. But he doesn’t like booze or partying, and he doesn’t have a big car, nor music, nor any funny buddies. He is probably a real mother’s boy.
Sunday, 30 August 1964
Last night when I was out I met a boy with whom the situation became a little problematic. I went with him in his car and he drove out to the Vaksala brick factory, parked and started to make a pass at me. I went along with him in the preliminary stage, but then I didn’t want to go any further and tried to say so, but he didn’t listen. He held me fast and tried to get past my clothes, and I began to be a little worried and thought: My God, how will this end up? I was there all alone with him, so I couldn’t count on getting any help. Here everything depends on keeping cool, I thought and tried to get my sense to steer my feelings so that I wouldn’t be seized by panic. Everything depends on talking with him so that he will change his mind. But he refused to listen and continued to pull and tear at my clothing. I was completely stuck under his body and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t open the door and get out because he held me fast. But women’s cunning surpasses men’s comprehension, and he didn’t have much comprehension, because when I said I felt uncomfortable and needed to change position, he went along with it and let go of me. I looked for the door handle, and when he loosened his grip I threw the door open and flew out. Then I just stood outside, and he kind of woke up and said that he understood he had gone too far and promised that he wouldn’t try anything else, if I hopped into the car again. I could have hitchhiked back to town, but I felt like I could rely on him not to try anything else, so I climbed into the car again and rode with him. And nothing happened. But what would I have done if he had succeeded in raping me? Yes, first of course, I would have called E-L, but then what? I would never have told mamma and papa, anyway. No, I would not! In that case they wouldn’t have let me go out anymore. Papa would have gotten completely furious with the boy and with me as well for riding with him. He would have said: “From here on out you stay at home!” And mamma would have been very upset and overwrought. So telling them is something that can’t even be considered if the worst, in spite of everything, would happen. And I wouldn’t report it to the police, because then it would be known at home as well. And to sit there with a police officer and explain that I had jumped into a car… “Why did you do that?” “Because I didn’t think it would go further than to a little kissing and hugging.” You certainly can’t say that! Or: “Because it usually works to say no.” Undoubtedly, it’s true, but they would just think that I was nuts. So I wouldn’t go to the police, either.
Lasse called on Friday and we decided that he and Leffe would come and pick me up at the bus stop yesterday evening. I was so happy when I found out that he had bought some booze and that we were going to drink. But don’t halloo till you are out of the wood! When I got off the bus, I saw that he was alone, and when I had sat in the car he said that Leffe was sick with a high fever and couldn’t drive. So we couldn’t booze. I became totally cold and hard within me when I got it.
“There’s always another train”, Lasse said when he noticed how disappointed I was. “Is it that important? My little troll, it’s not the end of the world!”
But I couldn’t make my disappointment disappear.
“You little fool,” he gently said and hugged me. “I didn’t know it was so important to you. We can go and get the bottle if you want, and I can drive while you drink.”
“No, that’s not fair,” I said.
“But it doesn’t matter to me. I promise you. We can do it, if only you will stop being sad.”
“What kind did you buy?”
“Silver Rum.”
“Is it good?”
“You have never drunk it?”
“No.”
“Well, I thought you had drunk everything,” he said and smiled. “But it’s not too bad. Shall we go get it then?”
“No, we wait until you can do it, too.”
Then he turned on that gaze again.
“Do you realize what you have done now?” he said slowly.
“No, what?”
“You have made me the world’s happiest man. If I could I would cry crocodile tears right now.”
“Why?”
“You mean you don’t understand?” he said and rubbed his eyes. “I will never, never forget what you have done this evening!”
He should have been an actor instead of a teleworker, I thought.
“Can we drink it some other time, then?”
“Certainly.”
Next Saturday, I thought. I have to wait until next Saturday. Then I will not see him anymore, I have decided.
We went to the movies instead and saw a film called “Whisky Galore!”. It played at the Fyris cinema, which has been reopened now. I would rather have seen another film, but when he asked me to this one, I just said yes. I don’t think we have the same taste when it comes to films, either. He likes war films and Westerns and I don’t. But the one we saw last night was a comedy.
Later we sat in the car and made out. This time he pulled up my skirt and stuck his hand inside of my panties. I thought several times that I should say no, but I couldn’t make up my mind to do it, and after a while he had almost gotten a finger in.
“You are so wonderful!” he whispered and began to breathe faster.
But I didn’t feel anything special, and finally I took his hand away and sat up again.
Monday, 31 August 1964
A lot of new films have begun again. They change so often that you can’t decide to go and see a film before they have changed it to another one. In one week (since last Monday) they have changed from “Now It is Fun Again” to “The Pink Panther” at Fågel Blå and from “A Clean Sweep in Montana” and “Hell in the Jungle” (which started last Thursday) to “The Court Jester” with Danny Kaye at Slotts. At the Grand they play “Are You out of Your Mind?” instead of “Fort Delivery” and at the Saga they play “The Bloody River” instead of “The Top in Pop-music”. (It was a pop musical with Siw Malmkvist, Gunwer Bergqvist, Little Gerhard, Jan Höiland and the Spotnicks.)
E-L and I never go to war movies and never to Westerns, either. But we could perhaps have seen “The Court Jester” if we would have gone out, because Danny Kaye is funny. But she is probably going to see Lasse again.
Last Saturday there was a roll-call at school and today we went to school as usual. On Saturday evening E-L was going to see Lasse, so Solan and I decided to go dancing at Holmen. Family Four and Little Gerhard were performing there, and she likes Family Four. So we went, and both of us got to dance a lot.
E-L meets Lasse even though she says she would rather go out with me and cruise. She doesn’t know if she likes him, and she doesn’t feel anything when he cuddles her. Mostly I don’t feel anything in that situation either, but it has happened that I have been turned on. Although never so that I seriously ha
ve thought about going all the way. I have never felt so attached to someone that I have wanted to do that. Well, it could have been that way with Kjell. I would have wanted to do it with him if we had gotten time to get to know each other. Because I want to say yes to the entire person, and it’s only with him I have felt that way.
Lasse came yesterday too. He had been to moto-cross in Jumkil with his dad, he said. We drove around. He thought I should go home early and sleep just because the school started today. But I don’t give a shit about that. He is so boring. If he calls on Wednesday, as he said he would, I will see him one more time and tell him that there is no point in us continuing. If we can drink then, and I get drunk, I might dare to say it. But if we are not going to drink I don’t know what to do. When he said that he would call on Wednesday, and I realized that he didn’t intend to come and see me, I felt disappointed. It felt like he doesn’t care about me. But he probably does, because why else would he talk so much about how wonderful he thinks I am?
I don’t know what I feel for him. In the test where you write both people’s names on a paper and then strike out all the common letters and then reckon love, friendship or hate with the remaining letters, it was hate for him and hate for me. But you can’t believe in things like that. You have to know yourself. But when we meet I don’t feel anything special, and afterwards I’m irritated by things he has said and done. It isn’t until several days have gone by that I start missing him. So I don’t think I’m in love with him. It’s probably just that I don’t want to be without the things I get from him.
“Can’t you come?” I said when he asked if he could call on Wednesday.
“Well, now that school has started you need to be home and sleep so that you manage to get up in the morning.”
So frigging thoughtful! I thought and made a grimace. I didn’t care if he saw it, because sometimes he sounds and behaves like a frigging pop.
When we drove on Svartbäcksgatan and passed a girl called Gittan, he looked at her in a way that made me think that he knew her, and when I asked him if he did, he said:
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