You're Mine Now

by Koppel, Hans

  Three spreads in a row had quote boxes that started with the word ‘I’ and the editorial heads were discussing how best to change it in order to avoid the repetition when Anna’s phone rang at the other end of the open-plan office. The head of features, who sat nearest, started to get up and pointed at it questioningly. Anna nodded.

  The head of features answered. Anna could see from her body language that the person on the other end didn’t say anything. Anna’s colleague said, ‘Hello?’ a few times before giving in and hanging up. She was on her way back to her desk when the phone rang again. This time there was someone at the other end, Anna realised. The head of features reached for a pen and a Post-it. She nodded as she wrote. Anna followed every movement. Her colleague finished the call, pulled the Post-it from the pad and stuck it to Anna’s screen.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, and went over to her desk.

  She turned to the colleague who had answered the call for her.

  ‘A reader,’ she said. ‘Something about a recipe. I wrote down the number.’

  Anna glanced quickly at the number. It wasn’t his. It was only the relief that made her realise how tense she was. She lifted the receiver and called Renée in reception.

  ‘Hi, it’s Anna. Can you hold all my phone calls, please? We’re going through the wall.’

  She put the phone down and went back to Sissela and Trude.

  As a rule, Kathrine believed the best about people. She didn’t like the fact that the majority of the population, at least mentally, seemed to live in the parallel world created by the tabloid press where all strangers were potential assailants unless proved otherwise.

  Her daughter’s worries were obviously coloured by her bad conscience. She had been unfaithful to her husband and enjoyed it. Now she just wanted to forget her impropriety as quickly as possible, whereas the motherless boy had fallen in love with her.

  It had the potential to end badly, she realised that. But Kathrine had never met anyone you couldn’t talk to. Fear was in practice the only thing you could really fear and she hadn’t thought of going down that road. She had friends who were so obsessed with all the terrible things going on in the world that they barely dared to leave their flats.

  And there was no doubt, Kathrine pitied Erik Månsson. An absent father and a teenage mother who died far too young.

  Erik had told Anna that his mother took her own life, only to say the next moment that he’d made it up. And if it was true after all, perhaps the young mother had had mental health issues. In which case, that would explain why Erik had stayed with his mother, even when he was well into his twenties.

  Kathrine realised she was feeling a bit self-righteous. As if she had all the answers. What did she think would happen? Should she go to visit Erik Månsson and talk to him, get him back on the right track? In which case, what was she going to say?

  ‘I can understand that you’re in love with my daughter, she is a fantastic woman. But the fact is that she already has a husband and they have a daughter whom they both love very much. So I’m asking you to accept that, and to try to find happiness elsewhere.’

  Kathrine shuddered. How ridiculous. The moral police, protector of the good, champion of law and order.

  The Phantom and her.

  And all the snooping around she’d done. No, she couldn’t say anything. Not to anyone.

  27

  The review of the wall was always followed by an editorial meeting. The magazine staff gathered on and around the large sofa to discuss content and the next number. The meeting was led formally, but in a relaxed style, by Sissela. Whoever felt the need to express their views and give suggestions was welcome to do so, which in practice meant that the same people said the same things week in and week out. But that was fine as the main purpose of the meeting was to give the staff an opportunity to grumble if they wanted to and the illusion that they had some influence. Anyone of a more cynical nature might notice that the editorial staff were more dissatisfied in good times and less so when sales numbers started to fall and cutbacks loomed.

  Everyone went back to their places after the meeting. People checked the time and their mobiles. How long was it until lunch? Had anyone tried to contact them in the past half-hour, since they last checked?

  Anna went to her desk. The red voicemail diode was not flashing. She checked her mobile without taking it out of her bag. Nothing there either. She opened her email. A handful of new emails, all job-related, nothing from Erik.

  Had he finally realised that he couldn’t behave in that way?

  She understood that he was upset. It was insulting to be dumped and told to stay away. The rules were always set by the person who wanted least from the relationship. She might just as well call him and give him a chance to walk away with his honour intact.

  She went to the toilet, locked herself in a cubicle and checked the reception. No worries. She dialled his number from memory. After four rings, she was transferred to his voicemail.

  ‘Hi, Erik, it’s me. I got your email. Thank you. You said that you didn’t want us to part on bad terms. I don’t want that either, I really don’t. And I’m so sorry that I hurt you, it was never intended. I hope that we can sort all this out. I’ll try to catch you later. It’s probably best if I call. I’m busy and there’s someone watching all the time. Hope you’ll be patient.’

  She hung up and tried to remember exactly what she’d said. Was there anything that might be misunderstood? Hardly. Had she said anything that could be misinterpreted? No. She had been as clear as she could be and, at the same time, her voice was humble and positive. She had held out her hand. It was up to Erik now to take it.

  ‘Hi, Erik, it’s me… I’m so sorry that I hurt you, it was never intended… It’s probably best if I call… Hope you’ll be patient.’

  To add insult to injury, she was trying to sound upbeat and self-important. First false concern, almost upset, then over-jolly.

  Don’t call me, I’ll call you. That’s what she said.

  Well, that’s exactly what she could do. He wasn’t going to make any more effort. Did she think he was sitting by the phone waiting? Even self-righteousness had limits.

  Anna sat towards the back of the bus and got out her telephone. No missed calls. Erik hadn’t phoned back. To be fair, Anna had said that she would call, but the question was whether it might be wiser not to. Let sleeping dogs lie. And if he was now finally over her.

  Over her?

  Anna felt ashamed, it sounded so self-centred. She had hurt his pride when she accused him of stalking her. In the same way that a man had hurt her mother when he saw through her attempt to chat him up and brushed her off without so much as a pardon. The difference was that the man in the library had rebuffed her immediately. Anna had slept with Erik Månsson. And not just once, but three times. Four, in fact, if you counted the time in the car up on the cliff. Which obviously made the whole thing far more serious.

  How could Anna get Erik to understand that she didn’t want any contact without him feeling insulted and forced to defend his reputation? It would be best to call after all. If nothing else to find out how the land lay.

  Anna let the thought mature. By the time the bus stopped outside Sofiero Palace, she had made up her mind to take the bull by the horns. The extra fifteen-minute walk would give her plenty of time.

  She got off the bus, fished out her phone and dialled the number. The line connected, one ring, two. Erik answered on the third.

  ‘Hello.’

  His voice sounded strained, as if she were interrupting, a constant hum in the background.

  ‘Hi, it’s me.’

  ‘I can’t really talk right now, I’m driving.’

  He sounded irritated and Anna felt stupid. How easily the balance of power between two people could change, it was almost depressing.

  ‘Of course, I…’

  Even though it was a relief too. He wasn’t mad, at least not at her. And that was the main thing.

  �
��Call me in an hour.

  He disappeared.

  ‘Hello? Erik?’

  Anna looked at the screen. The call had been disconnected. Had he hung up on her? Strange. She clicked on to the call log to delete the number, and just then a loud car horn made her jump.

  She spun round and saw her own car. There were two people behind the windscreen and her eyes immediately swung to the passenger seat, where she expected to see Hedda, but her husband was sitting there instead, waving at her. She looked back to the driver’s seat.

  Erik Månsson was sitting behind the wheel.

  Her husband rolled down the window.

  ‘Hello, darling. What are you doing here?’

  ‘What? Well, I got off the bus early, thought I’d walk a bit, the nice weather, and…’

  ‘This is Erik,’ Magnus said, and leaned back.

  He leaned forwards over the gearstick and held out his hand.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘He’s a potential buyer for the car,’ Magnus explained. ‘So we’re out on a test drive.’

  Anna nodded silently, she couldn’t get a word out. She wondered whether Magnus had seen that she was talking on the phone and hung up at the same time that Erik did. He must have done. He was just too slow to make the connection. Wrong, not slow. There was no reason in the world for him to make the connection. He wouldn’t even dream that his wife could do something like that.

  ‘Hop in,’ Magnus said.

  Anna felt that her chest was clammy and cold.

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ she said, sounding uncertain. ‘I think I’ll go by the shops and get some food.’

  ‘Jump in, we’re just going to drop Hedda off at the stables first.’

  Magnus pointed his thumb over his shoulder. It was only now that Anna saw that her daughter was sitting in the back. She looked bright and happy. Anna wanted to get her out of the car, but didn’t know how she could do it.

  Magnus turned to their daughter.

  ‘Move up, sweetheart, so there’s room for Mummy.’

  Anna had no choice. She opened the car door and sat down in the back seat, a stranger in her own car. She was glued to the spot, couldn’t do anything. She held her hand out to Hedda.

  ‘Hello, darling.’

  Hedda held back as if she were suddenly too big for intimacy, certainly when there was a stranger there. Erik swung out into the road.

  ‘The ultimate family car,’ Magnus said. ‘Three adults sitting comfortably in the back. Enough room for everything. The boot just swallows everything up. It’s not for nothing that it’s so popular. Straight ahead here.’

  He pointed out the direction. Erik’s driving was calm and gentle; he slowed down for the speed ramps.

  ‘Do you have a family?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  Erik looked at Anna in the rear-view mirror, she turned her face away.

  ‘Are you expecting a child?’ Magnus exclaimed. ‘Sorry, rude of me to ask.’

  Erik shook his head.

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, smoothly. ‘No, I’m waiting for her to make up her mind. One day she does, the next day she doesn’t.’

  Anna turned to Hedda, pretended not to be part of the conversation.

  ‘How was school today?’ she asked. ‘Did anything fun happen?’

  ‘No,’ Hedda said, in a dismissive tone and demonstratively turned to look the other way.

  Had she turned into a teenager overnight?

  ‘Perhaps she’s too young?’ Magnus suggested. ‘To start a family, I mean. Maybe she wants to wait.’

  ‘No, she’s not too young,’ Erik said, and again tried to catch Anna’s attention in the rear-view mirror. ‘She’s my age, a bit older, in fact.’

  ‘Well, then maybe it’s time for her to make up her mind,’ Magnus said, paternally. ‘We’re not getting any younger, any of us. What do you think, darling?’

  He sounded obscenely content when he included himself in the ‘we’. As if he liked Erik’s company and wanted to draw it out.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Anna said, uninvolved.

  Erik was looking at her annoyingly often in the rear-view mirror now.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said, eventually, and turned round. ‘I recognise you.’

  ‘Me?’

  Anna felt the fear. She was scared in her own car in the company of her husband and daughter.

  ‘We must have met,’ Erik said.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Hang on, I know. Mölle, the hotel. Weren’t you there a few weeks ago?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We met very briefly. You were there with two other women, and you were talking to my colleagues. Two advertising men.’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember.’

  ‘I was pretty beat that night,’ Erik said, ‘so I went to bed early. But I understand you had a good time.’

  ‘Yes, we had a good time,’ Anna said, with an uncertain smile.

  ‘Isn’t that funny?’ Magnus said. ‘The world is so small. Especially in Helsingborg.’

  ‘Good hotel,’ Erik said.

  He chatted away without a worry. As if it were already his car, and he set the rules.

  ‘Were you there for a conference?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘I don’t know that I’d call it that. We played some golf, celebrated closing the books.’

  ‘You play golf?’ Magnus lit up. ‘Then this car is perfect. Plenty of room for two bags in the back. To the left here and then straight on.’

  They reached the stables.

  ‘To the right here, down the gravel track.’

  ‘We’ll come and pick you up later,’ Anna said when they’d parked alongside the paddock.

  ‘Mm,’ she said, grumpily and then with more enthusiasm: ‘Bye.’

  The friendly goodbye was for Erik. So that was why she was being so mean to Anna. She had a crush and wanted to appear grown-up.

  ‘See you. Have fun riding.’

  Anna felt the hate surge through her. He had no right to play to her daughter, not even in a friendly and amenable way. How did he support himself? Anna’s flushed cheeks quickly darkened.

  ‘So,’ Magnus started. ‘Have you had enough, or would you like to drive some more?’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Erik said. ‘I think that’s plenty.’

  ‘Maybe we should switch places then.’

  Magnus undid the safety belt and opened the door. Erik sat where he was with his arms stretched to the wheel and looked at Anna in the rear-view mirror. Magnus came all the way round and was slightly confused. He knocked on the window and opened the door.

  ‘Sorry,’ Erik said, and undid the safety belt and got out. ‘Just wanted to savour the feeling.’

  ‘It’s important,’ Magnus said.

  Erik sat down in the back seat beside Anna. She got out and went to the passenger seat. It was all one movement.

  ‘What do you think then?’ Magnus asked when they parked outside the house, where Erik had left his own considerably smaller car.

  Erik pretended to think.

  ‘I’ll go home and sleep on it. Is the price negotiable?’

  ‘Well,’ Magnus drew it out, what he thought was a smooth dealer technique. ‘A couple of thousand, maybe. But the mileage is low, relatively speaking, and the condition as good as new, so…’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘I’ve got several others who are interested,’ Magnus said. ‘So if you are, you’ll have to make up your mind relatively swiftly.’

  ‘Okay,’ Erik said. ‘Let’s say that if I’m interested I’ll give you a ring before eight this evening. Does that sound fair?’

  ‘Absolutely. Let’s say that then.’

  Erik held out his hand. Magnus took it first, then Anna. She had no choice.

  ‘Nice to meet you again,’ Erik said. ‘See you both around.’

  He got into his own car and drove off.

  ‘Nice guy,’ Magnus said. ‘Strange that you didn’t recognise him.’

&
nbsp; ‘I didn’t really see him properly.’

  ‘A looker like that?’

  ‘When I got in the car, I mean.’

  ‘Well, there you go. Now, what do we need from the shops?’

  28

  Magnus wandered back and forth and kept looking at his phone.

  ‘I guess he’s not interested,’ Anna said, from where she was sunk deep in the sofa.

  ‘No,’ Magnus agreed, reluctantly. ‘Strange, I really thought he would take it.’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  She turned towards the television, didn’t feel sure enough to meet her husband’s eye.

  ‘Ah well, whatever,’ he said.

  He sank down beside Anna.

  ‘It’s quite fun selling cars,’ he continued. ‘Think it would suit me. Walking around the showroom, a bit of chitchat, high fives with my colleagues when I close a deal. Ka-ching, high five.’

  ‘Sounds just like you.’

  ‘Have the special of the day in a restaurant with strip-lighting on the ceiling, and salt cellars the size of sugar shakers.’

  Anna gave him a questioning look. He nodded obstinately.

  ‘Real workers put salt on their food.’

  Anna couldn’t even be bothered to comment on that. She turned back to the TV, picked the remote control up from the table and started channel hopping. She went through the whole lot before stopping at the first channel, a national, commercial channel with a mixture of stuck-up pretensions and abysmal productions that did more damage to the country than all the 1970s town planners who just wanted to pull everything down.

  Anna’s body was hopping. Fear and anger were fighting for domination, tossing her back and forth. She felt seasick and nauseous, as if she were on a ferry with red fitted carpets and drunk, ugly passengers. The fear sloshed around and crashed over her.

  ‘No,’ she said, and stood up in one movement.

  Magnus looked at her in surprise.

  ‘Can’t bear to sit watching this rubbish. I’m going out.’