The Exception

by Christian Jungersen

  The two women go back inside and sit in front of the fireplace. They chat about their families and old friends.

  Anne-Lise thinks that Nicola won’t notice any change in her, but as she’s describing Clara’s new dance outfit, Nicola interrupts her: ‘Anne-Lise?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You must tell me what’s wrong.’

  Anne-Lise stares at her.

  ‘It’s something to do with your new job, isn’t it? Is it the same old problem?’

  Soon after Anne-Lise started work at DCGI, she told Nicola a little about how the others behaved, but she kept the worst to herself.

  Nicola is concerned. ‘You’ve changed so much. I hardly recognise you.’

  ‘I haven’t changed!’

  ‘Anne-Lise, listen. You’re not yourself. Don’t you remember what you used to be like?’ Nicola looks Anne-Lise in the eye and reaches out a hand to console her. A gold bracelet slips out from under the thin white shirtsleeve. ‘Why don’t you give your old boss a ring? She really liked you. Maybe they could take you back.’

  Anne-Lise is speechless. She feels so defeated. Does Nicola really believe it would be that easy to get her old job back? The room becomes blurred; her eyes are filling with tears.

  Nicola takes her hand. ‘You must tell someone about what your colleagues are doing to you. If you don’t, they’ll ruin your life away from work as well.’

  Anne-Lise is sniffing back the tears. She clears her throat and Nicola runs off to fetch a roll of paper towels.

  Soon everything comes pouring out. For the first time Anne-Lise tells someone apart from Henrik what it is really like.

  ‘I can’t understand how they can be so callous! And yet they think of themselves as such good, idealistic people …’

  Nicola is rubbing her arm gently. It’s so different from the way Anne-Lise is treated at work.

  ‘It doesn’t matter one iota to them if I lose my job, or my husband divorces me, or my children get into trouble, but I still have to work with them. I have to smile and talk to them. Every single day, I’m forced to look them in the eye and pretend I don’t hate them.’

  ‘Anne-Lise, you must stop working there.’

  ‘But I can’t!’

  ‘Yes, you can. Just stop. You’ll find another job soon enough.’

  Anne-Lise tears herself away. ‘But I’ll become … like one of those women!’

  ‘Nonsense. You won’t.’

  ‘Yes, I will! Like Jutta! I don’t want to be like … I’d hate to be like her. I’m not Jutta!’

  Nicola’s voice is calm and gentle. ‘Anne-Lise, you will never be like Jutta. I’m sure of that. Whatever happens, you won’t.’

  When Nicola and Anne-Lise were friends with Jutta, Jutta worked for a marketing company. She and the company director had a falling-out and Jutta couldn’t stand working there any longer. Afterwards she landed another job, but got into trouble with her colleagues.

  Her husband had started out as a self-employed investment broker and did very well, earning much more than either Anne-Lise’s or Nicola’s husbands. Jutta being out of work didn’t matter financially, but she disliked staying at home all day, so she decided to run a small shop selling exclusive Italian and French kitchenware. Her husband put up the cash to help her get started, but in the end she couldn’t cope with managing a store either.

  Now Jutta is better dressed than ever. She has turned the house into an amazing display of Oregon pine, all the floors and the panelling. The furniture has been designed by a Swedish architect, whom Jutta got in touch with after seeing a long article about his ideas in an interior-design magazine. When she meets working women, she always asks how they are getting along and invariably says something like: ‘How wonderful for you!’ – but her interest is only superficial. She apparently believes the mantra preached by all her magazines: buy all these things and they will make you a better person.

  A few years ago Jutta would occasionally phone Anne-Lise or Nicola when she was drunk. They never found out how often she drank alone at home but the phone calls prompted them to talk about trying to help her. She not only rejected their help but also managed to do it in a condescending way. Worst of all, her children were said to have become aggressive and problematic. Could it be that Jutta has abandoned her responsibility for her children as well?

  Anne-Lise and Nicola hear Henrik’s car in the driveway. Her family has arrived home.

  For a moment she is confused. Then she makes a dash for the door, calling out to Nicola: ‘Tell them I’m in the loo!’ In the hall, she suddenly turns back and pops her head around the door. ‘Nicola, thank you! I just have to …’

  She runs into the bathroom to fix her face. Outside the children’s voices call ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ as they run to the sitting room. It feels so bad to hide from them. Henrik comes in and slams the front door.

  Anne-Lise washes off the smeared mascara and lipstick and rinses her eyes with cold water. As she goes through the motions quickly, she listens to Ulrik running around from room to room looking for her. Before the Centre, Anne-Lise could not have imagined ever being tempted just to let go, to follow in the footsteps of Jutta. But then, maybe she’s already on that downward slope? Maybe everyone else thinks so, but Nicola is the only one who dared say anything. Whatever happens, her problems must not affect Clara and Ulrik. She can’t let them pay the price for her troubles at DCGI.

  A few weeks after Nicola’s visit, Iben and Malene both receive an anonymous email from someone who is threatening to kill them. The office is unsettled by this turn of events and for the first time Anne-Lise dares to mention that the others don’t always treat her well.

  Malene, Iben and Camilla instantly jump down her throat. Either they are extremely accomplished liars, or they are so dishonest with themselves that they aren’t even aware of what they are doing. To them, ‘the librarian’ is a dull, colourless creature with poor social skills because that’s exactly what they expect her to be and they won’t let Anne-Lise change their minds.

  The day after their attack Paul asks her to join a staff meeting in his office. At the meeting the others claim that the door between the Winter Garden and the library has always been closed. Anne-Lise knows differently – the door was always open when she started and it was only a month later that Camilla began to complain that she would get arthritis from the draught.

  Paul doesn’t agree with them and makes his first ever decision in Anne-Lise’s favour. After having been patient for a whole year, she will at last be allowed contact with the Centre’s users, as she was promised in her interview. Also, the door to the library will not be closed any more.

  It takes less than a week for the others to get their revenge, in an act more cruel than Anne-Lise could have imagined. One morning she discovers a brown powder all over her hands. She has managed to stain her blouse with it, and smudge her face with brownish-red streaks.

  Anne-Lise observes Malene’s face. That woman knows something; it feels just like the time when Malene humiliated her in front of Frederik Thorsteinsson, a few days earlier. But Anne-Lise still can’t figure out what the substance is. She searches her office area. When she knocks over a box file on the top shelf, the fluid inside it splashes out over her. She closes her eyes instantly, leaps backwards and hears the box crash to the floor.

  She screams and opens her eyes. Thick, viscous fluid is spattered everywhere. Her clothes are covered in spots and stains. It is blood. Her skin is sticky with blood. It is so awful that her mind blanks out. All she can do is look at Malene, who has appeared in the doorway. Malene acts as if she is truly shocked, but she’s not convincing enough. There’s a smug little smile lurking behind her frown.

  Anne-Lise wants to leave and go home, and accepts Paul’s offer of a taxi even though her car is parked right outside.

  Only when she’s home and has taken a shower does she call Henrik. While she talks to him, she wanders from room to room in her white dressing gown with her damp hair wrapped
in a white towel. Something significant happened today. She feels deeply uneasy, but after the hot bath it all seems rather remote.

  Henrik is shouting into the phone. ‘That’s it! You’ve got to stop working there! They’ll kill you next!’

  ‘But, you know, when they saw me covered in blood, they were so upset. They felt genuinely sorry for me. At least, Iben and Camilla did.’

  Anne-Lise is on her way to the kitchen. ‘I think they regretted it. Maybe they’ve got their anger out of their system now. Maybe this will be the end of it.’

  ‘Anne-Lise, it will not be the end.’

  ‘But they helped me clean up, you know. I think they felt shocked at what they’d done.’

  ‘Anne-Lise – try to get it into your head. They. Will. Not. Stop.’

  Anne-Lise doesn’t answer him.

  Henrik takes a deep breath. For a moment he can’t think of what to say. Then he makes up his mind. ‘I’m coming home now. I’ll tell everyone that I’m not feeling well. I’ll be with you in twenty minutes.’

  In the kitchen, Anne-Lise makes a cheese roll. She drifts about, bare feet on the parquet, while she eats.

  Maybe it is not just the others who have rid themselves of their anger. She too has purged herself of something, only she doesn’t yet know what it is.

  26

  Anne-Lise hears the engine of Henrik’s Audi outside. He storms into the hall.

  ‘Right, Anne-Lise, you’re coming with me. I’ve told Yngve what you’ve had to put up with and he says he can see you straight away. Let’s go.’ Henrik would have liked to drag Anne-Lise to the car at once, but she has to get dressed and tidy herself up.

  Yngve is their family doctor. They have been with him for years, long before they moved to Holte. When Henrik had trouble with his knee after a car accident, Yngve was more helpful than the orthopaedic consultant. Later, when they were trying for a baby and Anne-Lise initially failed to get pregnant, Yngve again impressed them more than the gynaecologist she had been referred to.

  Yngve is now in his fifties, but people still seem to find him exceptionally attractive. He wears his dark hair cut short and keeps his powerful, square chin clean-shaven. His voice is deep and melodious.

  Somehow Anne-Lise always has the impression that he is a lonely man. She wonders if he is gay. There’s definitely something different about him.

  The receptionist shows them into his consultation room. It smells faintly of soap and the medicinal scents of bandages and antiseptics. Henrik and Anne-Lise settle into the two cheap black-plastic chairs. Yngve has never bothered to refurbish his offices.

  He comes into the room, sits down and puts his large hands on the desk, palms down. Then he turns to Anne-Lise and asks her why she has come today.

  She doesn’t get very far before he interrupts her. ‘Sorry, Anne-Lise. I want to make it clear from the start that any kind of systematic bullying is deadly – more dangerous than drinking or smoking. The victims sometimes think they can hold out and deal with the situation, but it’s impossible.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see quite a few people who have been bullied in my practice. Sometimes they commit suicide, or they contract illnesses. Some die. Some become unemployable, others start drinking or doing drugs. One way or another, being bullied does enormous damage.’

  Henrik straightens up and turns to Anne-Lise. For the moment he thinks that he and Yngve are of one mind. ‘You see. You have to go on sick leave. Tell them tomorrow and resign. Not one more day in that place.’

  Yngve taps a small notebook on the desktop. ‘Right. That certainly is one solution. But I’m afraid I believe it’s the wrong one.’

  Anne-Lise casts a sidelong glance at Henrik. His only reaction is to stay perched on his flimsy chair, smiling and waiting, curious to hear why the doctor thinks that he’s wrong.

  Anne-Lise wants to have her say. ‘I’ve installed a program on my office computer that deletes any evidence of Internet searches. Now I can spend time at work checking jobseekers’ sites and sending off applications.’

  Yngve smiles at her. ‘Good idea. Have you applied to anywhere yet?’

  ‘During the last six months I’ve applied twenty-two times, but I wasn’t called for interview even once. I’ve followed up each one and I phoned to ask what was wrong, as you should. But they get so many applications and always pick someone younger.’

  Henrik adds, ‘Which is why we’ve stopped applying for a bit.’

  ‘Yes. Just for a bit. I needed a break. For now.’

  Yngve puts his hands together. ‘Anne-Lise, you have three options. One, you allow yourself to be pushed out of your job and, the way the market operates now, you might never work again. Two, you stay and let the others carry on bullying you. But you have a third option: stay on and make the others stop persecuting you.’

  Henrik is surprised. ‘I thought that the experts agreed that when you’re being bullied, the best thing to do is get out as quickly as possible? Because it’s a battle you can’t win?’

  ‘That’s what they say.’

  Conventional wisdom doesn’t influence Yngve. As he speaks, it’s clear that he is indifferent to ‘the experts’. His calm, brown eyes rest first on Anne-Lise, then on Henrik.

  ‘Anne-Lise, if you resign, you will spend the rest of your life thinking of yourself as a loser, and of the world as an evil place. It’s destructive. But if you let them work you over, they will destroy you. My advice is to confront them. Can you do that?’

  At first Anne-Lise couldn’t see the point of Henrik’s insistence on seeing their doctor. Now she feels it was a very good idea.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excellent. I’m glad to hear you say that. Having got to know you over all these years, I’m sure you can. And I’m convinced you’ll be able to change your working conditions.’

  There is something about the doctor’s manner, the way he speaks in his deep voice, that makes Anne-Lise trust him implicitly. Now he’s smiling at her.

  ‘Do you believe me when I say you can change things at work?’

  ‘Yes … yes, I do.’

  ‘Good.’

  Anne-Lise observes Yngve’s large hands. He is leaning forward in his chair, poised to go on to the next item on the agenda.

  ‘I want you to know that no one has been able to demonstrate any common personality traits in people who have been subjected to bullying at work. It has been studied, of course. The usual theory is that bullies go for people who are socially maladjusted in some way – introverts or slackers or incompetents or whatever. None of this turns out to be true. On the contrary, it’s often the more able members of staff who are picked on. But there does seem to be one recurring aspect in the victim’s personality, which is that they, to a greater extent than their colleagues, dislike being confrontational. They are rather passive, hoping that their tormentors will stop. Which doesn’t happen, of course. So, there you are, Anne-Lise. Are you afraid of standing up to your colleagues?’

  Anne-Lise thinks about what a special person the doctor is. Coming from someone else, his paternal tone would be almost offensive, but from Yngve it seems completely desirable and convincing.

  ‘I wasn’t scared in my previous job. But what is important to me right now is being included in their group, so naturally I avoid making waves. There’s something else: I always feel that something dreadful will happen if I do express my opinion about anything at all.’

  There’s a crash outside the office – a tray or something – but Yngve’s face doesn’t register a thing.

  ‘Yes, I see. It makes it easier to push you around. Listen.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘These characters will become more and more aggressive as time goes by. The essential thing is to make them realise there are limits. This far and no farther.’

  Yngve seems more pensive than usual. Could it be that he was once bullied too, perhaps long ago? She cannot ask him.<
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  ‘Bullying is very common among children, both at school and in after-school clubs and so forth. Teachers spend hours telling the kids not to be bullies and devising punishments for them if they are found out. Political initiatives are aimed solely at putting an end to bullying, all doomed to fail, or so it seems. Now and then bullied children have been brought to see me. Almost invariably they suffer from serious illnesses or psychological trauma, rooted in their victimisation.’

  He picks up a biro, balances it on the palm of his hand and stares at it for a moment. Then he looks up at them. ‘Adult bullying is less well recognised, but it is also common. Maybe you think I’m being melodramatic, but I take bullying as seriously as heart disease or cancer. I do and I should.’

  Anne-Lise wonders whether Yngve has a lover. If he really is gay, that is.

  ‘The fact is, people kill each other. Regardless of whatever action is taken and whatever we are taught, victimising others is part of human nature.’

  What Yngve says is quite different from the views of the genocide researchers Anne-Lise is familiar with. At DCGI she has read articles about ordinary people killing other ordinary people, but the investigators always argue that the circumstances were exceptional, and start with the premise that, for human beings, co-operation and kindness are the norm. None of these research papers has ever said that murder is an unavoidable outcome of ‘human nature’, yet Yngve’s view has resonance.

  ‘We eat, we reproduce, we protect those closest to us. And we reject those who are different from us and kill our rivals. Human beings try, more or less effectively, to exert control over our instincts. We are different from animals in that we have exceptional will power. For instance, in no other species is there an entire community where no one has sex. Just think of the Vatican.

  ‘But most people give in to temptation at some point. Your concentration slips for just a moment and there you are: being unfaithful, eating fattening foods, or slowly torturing a colleague to death. The latter, of course, is forbidden, so a person may prefer not to be conscious of what they’re doing – like a form of self-deception.