A Small Indiscretion

by Denise Rudberg

  “Thank you. I’ll have to stop by and try out your armchair.”

  They smiled at each other, and after he left, Marianne continued to sort the bookshelf, then finally, she set up her new computer on the desk. The IT guy had shown her how to connect all the cables, and soon she heard the jingle indicating that her machine was up and running.

  Marianne surveyed her new office again and decided she’d made it quite attractive. The armchair and the curtains gave the room a softer look. The floor lamp really belonged in that corner and stood ready to illuminate her reading. The only thing left to do was remove the fluorescent light from the ceiling. She found a ladder, climbed up somewhat shakily, and managed to get the cover off. She eyed the light tube and realized that removing it would be too difficult. Annoyed, she screwed the protective plastic covering back on. She decided, for now anyway, to give up the idea of finding a more pleasant ceiling lamp. The rest of the room had been sufficiently transformed.

  Her hard work had made her hungry. To avoid chewing the furniture, she decided to have her second cigarette of the day. It was the perfect excuse for taking a stroll in the middle of the morning. She found her purse, put on her coat, and hurried out of the building toward a café on the corner. Obediently, she waited her turn in line, then asked for two fruit Danishes and two cinnamon coffee cakes. She hesitated for just a moment before ordering an additional two pounds of mixed cookies. She knew she was buying too much, as usual, but perhaps they’d last more than a day. Once back on the street, she lit her cigarette, hoping to drive away her hunger for the baked goods. She was only torturing herself by buying and not eating them. She’d read somewhere that people on diets often bought too much for others. After a last, slow puff, she rushed back to work.

  By now the department was buzzing with people. She hurried to the coffee machine in the kitchen and arranged the goodies on a tray. She found there was no milk, so she threw on her coat and dashed back to the café. The friendly cashier agreed to sell her two liters of milk even though they usually didn’t sell that to customers. Marianne promised it wouldn’t happen again. On the way back, she resisted the impulse to have another cigarette. She realized she was already smoking too much and took a deep lungful of fresh air instead. That would have to hold her until lunchtime, when she could dig into her piece of grilled chicken.

  CHAPTER 50

  He decided to call in sick for the rest of the week. Nobody would suspect him of cutting classes. After all, he was a good student, and his teachers knew he always made up work if he was ill or absent. During the two weeks he’d been traveling, he’d made sure all his work got in to his advisers before he returned to Sweden. Everyone thought he might as well have skipped it all since he was visiting his father, but he really wanted to get everything done. He’d gotten the highest possible grades on all his examinations but one. That low grade was because a teacher was playing games with him to throw him off-balance. He was convinced that incident with that teacher in the cafeteria last year was the reason. If that bastard hadn’t been such an idiot, he wouldn’t have had to punch him. Unprovoked, he never hurt anyone. Well, he certainly didn’t need that idiot’s approval.

  He steered his bike over Djursholm Square and parked it close to the real-estate agent’s office. He found his wallet and walked over to Café Gateau. The girl with the funny corkscrew curls was behind the counter, and he shuddered. It was stupid to come back here. A group of young people came in, and he slipped between them before he took a number. Perhaps he would melt in with them, and not look like a loner. To his relief, a different girl served him. She had greasy red hair and tired eyes and didn’t seem to pay much attention when he ordered two lattes, two ham-and-cheese sandwiches, and two butter ball cookies.

  “Here or to go?”

  “To go.”

  He wondered whether to pour the coffee into his thermos now but decided it would bring too much attention. He paid and was just about to leave when the girl with the corkscrew hair gave him a big smile.

  “Hey, do you work around here, or what?”

  Why the hell did she want to talk to him? She wasn’t even the one serving him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just wondering. You always ask for two of the same thing, so I thought you worked around here and were, like, picking it up for your boss, too.”

  “No, I’m still in school.”

  “Where? I just graduated from Sammis last spring.”

  How could he have been so stupid? He looked at the red-haired sleepy girl, but she’d picked up a magazine now that the other customers were gone.

  “I’m just finishing up some classes.”

  He shrugged and forced a nice smile. She licked her lips and smiled back.

  “Too bad. If you worked around here, we could have lunch sometime.”

  She winked, and he was flattered by her invitation. He felt his guts fill with disgust but smiled again anyway.

  “Maybe we could still meet for lunch. I’ll be back.”

  He raised his coffee cup in farewell as she smiled in return.

  Back at his bike, he took a deep breath. He’d messed up big time.

  CHAPTER 51

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee met her as she stepped off the elevator. Most of the department was there circulating around the trays with the attractive goodies. People were wondering what the occasion was.

  “Oh, nothing in particular,” Marianne said. “I thought, since there are so many new people here, it would be nice to offer something. Bribe my way back into the group, so to speak.”

  She smiled and invited them to have whatever they wanted. She put one of the milk cartons on the table and the other in the fridge.

  Annelie Hedin entered the kitchen and appeared not to notice the display of treats. She opened the cupboard and took out a mug on which “WORLD’S BEST MAMMA” was printed with Annelie’s picture beneath. In it Annelie was laughing at the camera, and it seemed to be summertime since she was tanned and her blonde hair was bleached by the sun. Marianne smiled, relaxing as best she could.

  “Help yourself,” Marianne said. “I thought it would be good to tank up on a Tuesday morning.”

  Annelie Hedin filled her mug with water.

  “No, thanks. I’ll have tea.”

  Marianne’s smile froze. She wanted to say something stupid, but she restrained herself. “How about a cookie with your tea?” she asked.

  Annelie Hedin looked at her coldly. Marianne couldn’t help noticing she used way too much gel on her spiky hairstyle.

  “No, thank you. I had breakfast.”

  Annelie put her mug into the microwave, then walked straight back to her office next door. Karin followed her, although she cast a longing glance at the tray of cookies.

  Marianne sighed and took a coffee mug for herself, filling it to the brim. She couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She picked up a slice of the Danish and took a huge bite, regretting it the minute the wonderful taste spread through her mouth. She took another quick bite and threw the rest into the garbage under the sink.

  “Wow! Did you bring all this? What’s the occasion?” Alexandra Baranski said, walking into the kitchen.

  “It was nothing. I thought it would be a good way to start the day.”

  Alexandra picked up a slice of the cinnamon coffee cake. She almost got the whole piece down in one bite. Then she stared at Marianne for a second, exclaiming, “My goodness, what have you done to yourself? You’re looking great!”

  “Oh, I just got a haircut.”

  “Come on, you colored your hair, right? What a difference. You look fantastic. I’ll have to try a piece of the Danish, too. I was supposed to start a new diet today, but let’s just forget that for the moment. I can start next Monday—my usual routine, I have to add.”

  “With your figure, you shouldn’t waste time dieting. I just broke m
y own diet a minute ago.”

  Alexandra sighed and tried to pull in her stomach. “All this wasn’t there before. I have to blame all the late nights I stay up working. It’s impossible to stay awake without snacking. My Mamma lives with us, and it’s her life’s mission to feed me as much as possible. I think she’s even managed to put a few pounds on the boys. The way they do sports, you’d think that would be impossible.”

  “Still, it must be nice that your mother is willing to help out. Or does it work better in theory than in practice?”

  Alexandra gave an even deeper sigh. While picking up yet another slice of Danish, she said, “It’s unbelievably difficult but a huge relief, too. I never could have made it without her. I was worried at first that she would spoil them, like she used to do when they were little. But it works—they respect her and do what she says. I think they listen more to her than to me.”

  “Do they listen to your ex?”

  “He’s too busy starting his new family. They’ll have their second child soon, and it’s no exaggeration to say that he’s seen the boys just four times this year. They’re beginning not to care about him one way or the other. In the beginning it was hell. They missed him so much it hurt, but he didn’t give a damn. The strange thing is, he was a great father when we were married. Then, when he met that new girl, all that just stopped.”

  “Do you think it’s just temporary? Maybe he’ll pay more attention to them again.”

  Alexandra finished her coffee and quickly poured herself a refill. She shook her head.

  “In the beginning, I hoped things would change, but I think that train has left the station. It’s been four years since we separated. His time away from them is getting too long. They’re turning into strangers.”

  “How about your contact with him?”

  “What can I say? He’s a big asshole. I understand he got tired of me, and I accepted that fairly quickly. But I could kill him for what he did to our boys. I shouldn’t put it in these words, being a prosecutor and all, but I hope he gets what’s coming to him. Maybe something like gonorrhea? Who knows.”

  They laughed, and Marianne rinsed her cup before putting it in the dishwasher.

  “His punishment will come, sooner or later. I’m absolutely convinced of it.”

  Alexandra nodded slowly. She knew Marianne spoke from experience.

  “Well, what will be will be. By the way, I looked through that report and made some changes, especially in the conclusion. I marked them in red.”

  “Great, thanks. Yes, I guess it’s time to get back to work. And thanks again for all of this.”

  Alexandra reached over the tray and picked up a cookie.

  Annelie Hedin passed them as they walked through the hall. She gave Alexandra a chilly smile and avoided looking at Marianne. Marianne wondered about this young woman as she turned into her office. It was unusual for someone to show such hostility, especially at work. Annelie Hedin didn’t even seem to care about showing it in front of Alexandra, her boss. Marianne wondered. Either Annelie had some devious plan, or she was simply showing her true nature. Perhaps she had low self-esteem, and she took revenge by trying to throw others off-balance. Marianne decided to get to the bottom of it. She had to be prepared in case Annelie’s animosity went too far.

  CHAPTER 52

  Torsten woke up momentarily confused about why he was in a car. The classical music had probably put him to sleep. The GPS announced a mile and a half to go until they reached their destination, and Augustin was following the arrow as he turned off the highway. Torsten decided he should invest in a GPS for his own car.

  He cleared his throat, but he couldn’t rid his voice of its huskiness. He asked, “Did you ever get in touch with your old flame?”

  Augustin smiled. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Old flame? Tell me which century we live in again? Yes, I got in touch with her. She told me a lot that could be of interest.”

  “Did she attend Right Now herself?”

  “No, but her sister went, and left before the course was finished. She thought it was unnatural, artificial. She also didn’t feel comfortable taking off all her clothes, which some of the exercises encouraged.”

  “All their clothes?”

  “The way I understand it, they were encouraged to take off as much clothing as they felt comfortable shedding. They were supposed to release the inhibitions and shame modern culture imprints on us.”

  “What a bunch of shit! I take it they just wanted to see naked ladies. Or how would you interpret it?”

  Augustin laughed. “I tend to agree with you. They seem to concentrate too much on sex. Addressing sexual inhibitions is the impetus behind most of their exercises. Perhaps there’s a good reason, but the entire business sounds off. Don’t most people feel inhibited in large groups?”

  Torsten shook his head. “What else did she say?”

  “Many of their friends went there,” Augustin continued. “Many also refused to go along with what they were expected to do, although attending Right Now is the in thing.”

  “Maybe the novelty is wearing off. Did she mention Christopher or Isa Turin?”

  “She said the same thing as everyone else. Their relationship wasn’t going well—that they were both open about seeing other people but neither wanted to hurt the children.”

  “I’ve gotten the same impression. They both seemed to really care for their children.”

  “Afterward, I did a little research on Right Now. They have kept their accounts in excellent shape. They seem to be aware that their finances could be examined at any time, and I couldn’t find a single flaw. I also found out about a group protesting Right Now. They say they want to help people leave—that it’s a cult—and they can help relatives deprogram those lost souls. I thought that all seemed just as sketchy as Right Now itself.”

  “You are the son of a psychologist. What do you think about all of this? Why don’t they have a doctor on the premises? Why are there no professional psychiatrists or psychologists on staff?”

  The GPS announced they’d reached their destination. Augustin steered the car into a parking spot and took a deep breath.

  “I think we will see more of this phenomenon in the future. People today need more support, and they’re fumbling around in the dark for it. There’s the Institute for Self-Actualization, or ISA, which is a similar institution. It’s supposed to be the successor to the Forum, which was active in the United States. There’s also the Journey: a sort of ‘eternity project.’ They bring in members with all kinds of mumbo jumbo about taking mental life journeys. Behind all these groups are founders who make loads of money. Lots of people take these three-month courses from what they call coaches—it’s an enormous business. There’s Humanova and other minor groups—some of them are much worse than others. How can a person, after just a few months of training, become qualified to help people undergoing deep life crises? And what is a coach, really? Many of them say they use their own experiences to help others in the same situation. Can anything be flimsier? But, some people do feel better, and then they truly believe they are able to help others in the same situation. It’s tragic that they all feel they are helping others. We know that a lot of people are in it for the money.”

  “Profiting from the misfortune of others.”

  “Exactly,” Augustin said. “That’s my analysis, for what it’s worth. Still, I don’t know if the idea was so bad in the beginning. But I’m uncomfortable with their belief that they can open wounds that are very difficult to repair later. Some people are struck down with depression or even psychosis after taking these so-called courses. They ought to have seen a psychiatrist instead. Still, it’s symptomatic of our times to look for a quick fix. Solving deep psychological problems can take a long time, even years. Thinking mental illness can be solved with a snap of the fingers is naive at best. Crazy, I know. And it’s n
ot a question of being cheaper. Not everyone can afford a psychiatrist, but what they’re charging for those courses is beyond the pale. Ten thousand crowns for a one-day course? That’s a huge amount of money.”

  Torsten sighed and slammed the car door behind him.

  “It’ll be interesting to actually see what they’re up to on that island.”

  Torsten pulled out his backpack. Augustin was carrying a large bag from Valhalla Bakery. He looked out over the ominously gray water.

  “When’s the taxi boat getting here?”

  “A half hour at the latest.”

  Torsten beamed. “Great! Then we can have some pastries and coffee. I’m desperate for a cup.”

  They sat down on a bench where the steamboats pulled in by the dock. The breeze was hitting them, but the temperature was still reasonable.

  “I have hot chocolate and coffee with milk. Be honest, now. What do you want?”

  Augustin looked at the two thermoses. “Hot chocolate. I can’t remember the last time I had it.”

  Torsten smiled, pouring the steaming hot chocolate into a cup, and Augustin blew on it before taking a slow sip.

  “This is great. I should drink this more often.”

  Torsten poured his coffee, then opened the sandwich container. “Cheese and sausage with herbs, or egg and caviar?”

  “I don’t know which to choose. Did you really make all these this morning?”

  “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a few sandwiches.”

  Augustin shook his head. “Just a few sandwiches, he says. I haven’t had a brown-bag lunch this good in ages. No one ever made me a brown-bag lunch. Ever.”

  “Well, they taste good, too. Here, I made enough so we can have one of each.”