A movie came on after the TV show, but Torsten and Noah were both yawning. They said good night, and Torsten listened to Noah brush his teeth. When he came out of the bathroom, Torsten went to him and gave him a big hug.
“How about we do something really fun this weekend. Or do you have plans?”
Noah shook his head. “I was going to ask if we could go out on the boat. What’s the weather going to be like?”
“The weatherman said it would be great. You really want to go out on the boat? Do you want to take a day trip or go for the whole weekend?”
“The whole weekend. Isn’t it almost time to bring the boat in for the winter?”
Torsten smiled and said, “OK, let’s do it. I’ll take Friday off so we can leave Thursday evening. I have lots of comp time.”
Torsten brushed his teeth, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He felt sorry for Katrin. It couldn’t be easy for her, either. She was the one who’d wanted the divorce, but he couldn’t blame her. No one was to blame after the love was gone. Her situation, now, could be due to a great number of things that he knew nothing about. It was none of his business. Still, the fact remained: she risked losing close contact with her son. Torsten was almost crazy with happiness that his son wanted to spend the weekend with him on his little old sailboat, and he realized part of this was because Noah had lost closeness with his mother. He didn’t mind reaping some of the benefits, but he still hoped that mother and son could find a new way to get along. It wouldn’t help anyone if their relationship went sour.
Torsten made up the sofa bed and crept between the cool sheets, looking forward to his weekend sailing trip with Noah. Closing his eyes, he tried to put Katrin from his mind. Instead, he thought about running into Marianne Jidhoff at lunch. He hoped to see her again soon.
CHAPTER 45
She was in the kitchen wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt and panties. Her pink slippers were in such contrast to the clean style of the rest of the house. He watched her in fascination as she emptied the dishwasher, storing plates and glasses in the upper cupboards. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun, while a few strands tickled her neck. She closed the dishwasher and poured a glass of water. With great care, she chose several pills from a collection of bottles she had on the counter. He watched her swallow them methodically, impressed.
The woman jumped and turned as if looking for something. She reached for the windowsill and picked up her cell phone. At first she smiled and it looked like she was saying, “Hello, darling!” But then her face darkened, and her mouth hardened. He watched as she seemed to ask, “Why?”
A moment later, she put down her phone and leaned on the counter, hanging her head between her arms. He wanted to stroke her hair and had to restrain himself from touching the glass of the windowpane that separated them. It was almost time for him to go inside—he wanted to be there when she needed him.
CHAPTER 46
As promised, Sigrid rang Marianne’s doorbell at six a.m.—and she stared in shock at her mother.
“Mamma! What the hell?”
“Now, now, stop it. I already told you it was a catastrophe,” Marianne said.
“That is an understatement. What was the name of the color?”
“Ginger. But they told Lola it would be dark red, not orange.”
“Well, they were obviously wrong. We’ll have to hurry. The taxi is already waiting downstairs.”
“You’re absolutely sure this hairdresser is good?”
“How can you even ask that question when you were crazy enough to let Lola touch your hair! What were you thinking?”
Marianne snorted at her daughter’s concern but then jumped at her own reflection in the mirror. “I have to agree with you.” She packed a few personal belongings to help perk up her office and locked the door.
Marianne paid for the taxi ride to Nybrogatan. They could have walked those few blocks, but she didn’t want to force Sigrid to do more than she had to so early in the morning. As they walked up Riddargatan, Nybrogatan was quiet and empty. There was one light on; the other storefronts were dark. Sigrid steered Marianne toward the lit shop.
“Here it is, and remember, this is a favor. My hairdresser is usually booked a month or two in advance. He’s only doing this for me so he can ask for a favor in return.”
“Not that favor, I hope.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I promised to sew him a tuxedo coat.”
Marianne hurried inside behind Sigrid. A forty-year-old man with black, curly hair greeted them.
“Go ahead and hang up your coats,” he said.
He studied Marianne’s hair without a word, and Marianne thought that showed professionalism. She was given a protective cape to cover her shoulders and told to sit on his stylist’s chair. Sigrid sat on a regular chair beside her. The hairdresser brushed Marianne’s hair and took a good look at the top of her head.
“I suggest we start with removing the dye, then I’ll mix in two or three highlights.”
“Which colors?” Marianne asked, nervously contemplating her reflection.
“I promise you will be satisfied. You’ll even be able to turn back the clock a bit. How long has it been since you stopped coloring your hair?”
“Five, six years maybe.”
He didn’t even change his expression. “It’s great that you’ve kept your hair long, but now it’s time for a good cut. And you have to be at work at eight? Let’s get started. Would you like coffee or tea? We also have wine, but I’m assuming it’s too early in the morning for that.”
The hairdresser smiled for the first time. Marianne was quick to smile in return. He led her to a black shampoo station, and she leaned back in the chair.
After a while he said, “The de-colorization is complete. It was actually easy to get rid of that color. Now I’ll mix up your new ones.”
More time went by before she was ready to sit in the stylist’s chair again. She stared uneasily at Sigrid, whispering, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Just relax. Read a magazine.”
“But will I make it to work on time?”
“Don’t worry!”
Sigrid stared her down, obviously not interested in her mother’s whining. She ignored her by reading a magazine. Marianne sighed and looked in the mirror at her hair now covered in foil tabs. She wondered what in heaven’s name she’d gotten herself into.
Forty-five minutes later, she was ordered back to the shampoo station. With the push of a button on the chair, she even got a back massage. Then, as the scissors worked their way through her hair, she started feeling better. He was quick and effective, and in no time, he was blow-drying and finishing the top locks with a brush. Marianne could not believe her eyes. The color was the same as she’d had as a young woman, long before it ever started going gray. It was so shiny, too, and had impressive volume due to the hairdresser’s expert use of the round brush. Maybe it was a bit too stylish for work, but since she was going to the art exhibit later that evening, it would suffice.
Marianne turned to Sigrid and smiled. “How much should I pay?”
“I told you, I’ve already arranged it. Wow, you look fantastic. A little different from Lola’s attempt, don’t you think?”
Nybrogatan was no longer empty as they walked along. Sleepy people were hurrying to work. At a side street beside Östermalm Food Hall, a recycling truck stopped with a deafening noise to pick up a week’s worth of glass. A smaller truck parked to unload huge wooden crates of seafood. Marianne and Sigrid walked into Café Baresso, where the line already snaked along, and they joined those already patiently waiting for their orders. Sigrid yawned, and Marianne petted her cheek.
“Poor you. Go home and take a nap. I’m sorry I got you into all this.”
“Oh, stop, it was fun. And I’m not really tired. I have important customers today. A bride with four
bridesmaids.”
“Four? In my day, people didn’t have bridesmaids.”
“Yes, I know, you’ve told me that a thousand times. Still, I think bridesmaids are nice. They certainly help my business!”
“That’s true,” Marianne said. “Is it someone I know?”
“You don’t know the bride, but one of the bridesmaids is Clara Edenstam.”
“Peder’s Clara?”
Sigrid nodded.
“What’s she doing these days?”
“She did cultural studies at Uppsala, and now she is chief editor at some book publisher. I don’t remember which one.”
“She’s not the kind you have to worry about. Is she as cute as ever?”
“Oh, yes. She’s living with her boyfriend now. I ran into them on Djurgården awhile back on a Sunday afternoon. They were coming home from visiting Clara’s parents.”
“What kind of a guy is he? Is he nice?”
“He’s cute, but a little too much of the silent type for my taste.”
“I can’t see why Clara would want that. He won’t get a word in edgewise.”
“Still, you’ve got to give her credit. He’s kind of French looking, though he grew up in Bromma. He works in advertising.”
They had all wanted Peder and Clara to get together. Although time had shown that was not to be, Marianne suspected Peder still had a soft spot for her, the first girl he’d ever had a crush on.
Marianne felt the pain of missing Peder as they reached the head of the line. She disliked him staying in Australia, but she wouldn’t mention that to Sigrid. She didn’t want to be the type of clingy mother who never cut the apron strings.
CHAPTER 47
Torsten knocked softly and peeked in at Noah, who was sitting up in bed.
“I’m going to make breakfast before I go. What do you want?”
Noah rubbed his eyes, still sleepy.
“Hot chocolate, or chocolate milk?”
“Hot chocolate, thanks.”
Torsten went to the kitchen and pulled out some bread, cheese, and sausage. He put a glass of milk into the microwave and glanced at the clock. Augustin would pick him up in about a half an hour, so he wasn’t in a great rush. He wondered if he should make a lunch for himself. There probably wouldn’t be any restaurants open in the archipelago now that summer was over. He decided to make a number of different sandwiches. He also started the percolator and soon had enough coffee to fill his big thermos.
When Noah came out of the bathroom, breakfast with boiled eggs and two sausage sandwiches was already on the table. Torsten lit a candle, then mixed chocolate powder into the warm milk. Perhaps he should have packed hot chocolate to go instead of coffee? Sweet things taste good when you’re outdoors. So while Noah peeled his egg, Torsten heated four cups of milk and poured that into a second thermos. Noah looked up from his egg.
“You’re really going to town on that lunch. Where do you have to go today?”
“Somewhere in the north end of the archipelago. A taxi boat is picking us up at nine from Blidö.”
Noah said, “Having a new partner is doing you some good.”
Torsten looked at his son in surprise. “You think?”
“Look at you, making lunch. And aren’t you happy you’re not just staring at the walls in your office today?”
Torsten sat down across the table from Noah and took a bite of his sausage sandwich. “I guess you’re right,” he finally said. “I haven’t been at the top of my game at work lately. I owe Olle a lot of thanks that he didn’t send some idiot my way.”
“So you like this new guy?”
“Sure, I like him well enough. But I’m not sure he’ll live up to the job. We’ll have to see. I’ve been disappointed before.”
They chatted as they ate breakfast and started to plan the boat trip for the coming weekend. Torsten hurried out when he heard Augustin honking from the street below.
Augustin seemed even more properly dressed than the day before, if that were possible. Torsten noticed his gloved hands. Cognac-colored suede. Augustin pointed to the back seat. “I have a couple pairs of rubber boots back there. I dressed up because I’m attending an art exhibit with my father this evening.”
Torsten patted his backpack and set it on the floor between his feet. “I packed us a lunch.”
“Great, thanks. I bought some cinnamon buns on the way over. We can have a party in this car.”
Torsten chuckled, realizing they both felt slightly foolish. It was unusual for two police officers to bring food for each other as they headed out on duty.
“I’ve programmed the route to Blidö on my GPS. If there’s not too much traffic, we should be there in about an hour.”
“Perfect…nice car you have here. Very comfortable.”
“Yes,” Augustin said, “it has special ergo dynamic racing seats, but they can be uncomfortable if you have to go a long distance. What radio station do you like?”
“Go ahead and choose something. I’m not too picky. Isn’t that the unwritten rule of driving? The driver picks?”
“OK.”
Augustin turned on the radio and, not surprisingly, classical music began to play. Torsten usually didn’t choose P2 but thought the music was pleasant.
Augustin headed toward Roslagstull, and fifteen minutes later they were on the highway toward Norrtälje.
CHAPTER 48
Paula pressed the red button of her remote control; then she entered the code to turn off the alarm. She’d slept all night without waking even once.
The girls heard that she was up and stormed into her bedroom. They had a late start today since they were going on their field trip. It would be less hectic than usual this morning.
“So, what do you say, girls? Shall we get up and make some pancakes?”
The girls yelled in agreement, and Paula laughed. She was proud that her difficulties with food didn’t affect her girls. She was careful never to emphasize the subject of food: and she never commented on what they ate or on their appearance. They would surely clue in to all that when they were older, but so far, she’d been able to keep them free of any guilty feelings about food. The girls ran downstairs, and Paula hurried to catch up with them. At the bottom step, she noticed an unusual smell.
“Mamma, what’s that? Something stinks!”
Paula felt her stomach tie into knots as she began mixing the pancake batter. She scanned the room for the source of the odor. It smelled like cigarette smoke.
While the girls ate, Paula went into the hallway and unlocked the door to get the newspaper. On the windowsill, between two potted plants, she spotted them: six cigarette butts, burned down to the filter.
CHAPTER 49
Marianne stepped off the elevator onto the fourth floor. She was pleased to notice that it wasn’t yet past eight. She and Sigrid had enjoyed their coffee, and Sigrid had also had a sandwich before they each went their own way. Marianne intended to stick with just coffee until lunchtime, although she’d brought an apple with her to stave off any hunger pangs. In addition, she’d had a cigarette after she’d gotten off the bus. If she had to, she could sneak out for another one.
Her office was still empty. It was time to truly move in and get down to work. Marianne set down the large box she’d brought with her. She looked around and thought that the first thing this office needed was a thorough cleaning. Instead of waiting for the janitor, she went to the cleaning closet and took a bottle of cleanser and some rags. She pulled open the blinds and opened the window as wide as it could go. Then she started attacking the dust. The cleaner she used did wonders cutting the musty smell. Finally, she finished the floor. Once it dried, she looked for some furniture. She found a desk that was light enough to move herself, though getting it in, she had to tilt it on edge and ease it through. Once it was in place in the middle of the floor, it
looked nice. She missed seeing a rug on the floor but decided that would be too much trouble for the cleaning ladies. One corner looked lonely. Marianne surveyed her office from all sides before calling the super.
“Hi—Marianne Jidhoff here. On the fourth floor. I hate to trouble you, but is there an unused armchair in storage somewhere? I thought there might be some in the basement.”
Ten minutes later, Marianne received word that a number of armchairs could be found down there She took the elevator down immediately and met the super, and they ended up taking a rather square moss-green armchair back up.
“Maybe a lamp would be a good idea, too,” the super said. “I’ll see if I can find a floor lamp that would fit.”
Marianne thanked him warmly. No one usually cared about interior decoration in such a bureaucratic institution.
She took a vase from her box as well as two glass cups, setting tea lights in the cups. That would make the coming dark winter mornings more cheerful. During her lunch break, she intended to go to a florist on Fleminggatan and fill the vase with beautiful flowers. She would also try to remember to bring a throw from home for the back of the armchair. It would be nice to have something to pull around her shoulders. She headed back into the hallway to collect her files and a bookcase. Some of her colleagues greeted her, asking what she was doing. Annelie Hedin, however, just stared at her sourly and walked past—and Marianne had to try not to openly cringe at the sight of her. Instead, she dragged the bookcase into her office and set it against the narrow wall next to the armchair. A cough behind her back made her jump. She turned to see the super holding a floor lamp.
“That’s a great one! Where did you find it?” she asked.
“It was in the basement with all the other surplus stuff. If you give me some time, I think I’ll be able to find a small table for you, too. There are lots of odds and ends that people haven’t touched in years. As soon as people order new furniture, they send the old stuff downstairs. I found an extremely comfortable armchair for my office, too.”
A Small Indiscretion Page 19