His tongue pushed into her mouth and the bitter taste of alcohol made the visualisation more difficult.
She took a step back. Her body wasn’t able to cooperate.
“Another time,” she said. “Please.”
She switched the lights back on.
“There never is another time.” He sighed. “I have needs, okay?”
“So do I,” she said.
They stood quietly for a while, their bodies no longer touching.
“Can we just cuddle?” she asked.
She could sense his annoyance but it was a decent compromise.
“I’m not…” he started. She waited and eventually he succumbed, sounding defeated: “Sure, why not?”
She would have to visit the library another time. Peace at home came first. She didn’t take her boots off, just laid down on her side of the bed. Erik did the same and then they moved closer to each other, eventually embracing. Erik had a way of making her feel protected, the way he held his arm around her. Anna focused on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being loved; evoking that tingling feeling you felt on a date.
In the dark, he could be anyone. But it scared her that she wished just that: for him to be anyone but Erik. If only there was someone she could confide in.
Chapter 12 – Iris
September 2015
The sun was up, yet cold winds were banging on the library windows. Iris was unpacking her latest book delivery – a source of joy every time – when the phone rang.
“Hi Mum, it’s me.”
“Karin?”
She was about to say ‘you don’t usually call me at work’ but her daughter started crying before she got a chance to.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Since her daughter had started university she only ever cried if she had failed an exam but Iris suspected it could also be boyfriend trouble. Iris pushed the new book delivery to the side and sat down while Karin blew her nose on the other end of the line.
“I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t say it,” Karin said.
Iris waited patiently, wondering why Karin hadn’t called her father. He was normally the one she turned to. Rolf and Karin had always been close, often leaving Iris feeling like a distant aunt. She wasn’t bitter about it but she tried to keep an open door for her daughter, their only child. Karin continued to cry and Iris didn’t want to frighten her away by being pushy. She absentmindedly picked up a book, attracted by the dramatic cover, a red title stretched across it like a colourful tattoo, and started reading the blurb.
“Mum…”
She could tell that Karin was mustering up courage to tell her something, and she recognised that she needed to be more receptive.
“I’m listening.”
She loved Karin and wished that she could tell her that more often. Her own parents had never told her they loved her. Not once. She sometimes caught herself wondering why they hadn’t. Rolf’s theory was that their own parents hadn’t said those magic words, that they were simply repeating the pattern. It made sense but Iris was intent on breaking that trend.
“I spoke to Granddad,” her daughter said.
She could tell where this was going. Her father had been in a home for a few years now and was growing increasingly bitter.
“He said that you’re a whore,” Karin said. “He said it over and over again. I couldn’t stand it.”
A whore? Surely her father didn’t know about her lifestyle? Not that it made her a whore but in her father’s old-fashioned world perhaps it did. She and Rolf had always been discreet however, even more so after Karin was born.
“He’s… don’t listen to him,” Iris tried. “His dementia is getting worse, you know that.”
Karin started crying again.
“He said that you and Dad don’t take your marriage vows seriously. What does that even mean?”
Iris sank back into her chair. So he knew.
“Is it true?” Karin asked, her voice weak.
Iris tried to construct a sensible sentence. They were silent for a while, the seriousness of the revelation sinking in. If Karin were to ask Rolf, she knew he would tell her the truth.
“It’s not as simple as that,” she said. “We just don’t believe in owning each other.”
“So, what, you have affairs?” The last word was spoken with such distaste. Iris chose to ignore Karin’s bitter tone. She had to remind herself that her daughter was only nineteen. An adult by law but still a child in her eyes; not old enough to judge her own mother.
It was hard to admit, but: “Yes, that sometimes happens. I can’t speak for your dad but not very often for me.”
“Mum…”, Karin said. “It’s like… it’s like I don’t know you.”
Karin sounded sad rather than accusing and Iris felt compassion for her daughter.
“Are you seeing someone at the moment?” Karin asked.
Iris squirmed in her seat, glad that she hadn’t opened for the day.
“No,” she said eventually.
She was going to end it with Lena anyway so it wasn’t exactly a lie. Getting involved with someone so intricately linked to her work had been a mistake.
“No more secrets,” Karin said. “Please.”
“Of course,” Iris said, feeling like the child. “Those days are sort of over anyway. It was more… when we were younger.”
She had still been the model mother, attending parent evenings and football games, taught her daughter how to cook and had spent countless hours supervising her driving. There were just certain compromises involved in her marriage.
Just then, the alarm on her phone went off. It was ten o’clock, time to open for the day.
“I love you but I’m sorry, I have to go,” she told Karin. “Why don’t you call your dad and speak to him about it? Really though, it’s no big deal. We were young and free and now we’re getting older and more… sensible.”
She sighed when she put the phone down. They had spoken about this, her and Rolf.
“What if Karin finds out?” she had said.
“Then we explain to her that it’s fair to let someone be who they are.”
“Shouldn’t we promote monogamy to our daughter?”
“Why?”
He had a point. It wasn’t for everyone. She hadn’t even realised she would consider a no-strings-attached marriage until Rolf proposed it. She had been offended at first (was she not good enough in bed?) but when he had explained that he loved only her, that no one could ever replace her, she had opened up. They had agreed on set ‘rules’ and she had found it to be liberating. At least at first.
Now, with Karin knowing, those memories became tainted. It felt like being exposed while masturbating. For the first time, her choices didn’t make her feel quite so open-minded and progressive.
She continued to unpack her new books, pushing the phone call with Karin to the back of her mind. She would discuss it with Rolf later and they would solve it together.
Iris concentrated on reading each blurb even though she had carefully handpicked the newly purchased books herself. These were her babies, her trusted companions. Once she received a new order, she would read all the books to be able to recommend every one of them.
The first title that took her fancy had been chosen by none other than Lena. It had been a bit of an inside joke, but she had still ordered it. Delta of Venus by the avant-garde writer Anaïs Nin was not a recent release but it was an erotic classic. Lena could wait for it. This was the perfect book for Iris to get past her daughter’s judgement and to reignite with her true, sexual self. She slipped it into her bag.
The bell above the door sounded, notifying her of a new visitor. She looked up and saw a curvaceous woman with long dark hair walk towards her. She recognised her from the other day. Already? She smiled to herself. She remembered her name. Anna.
Chapter 13 – Anna
September 2015
It was Saturday morning, the sun had broken through the grey c
louds, and Anna had successfully built the tallest Lego tower with Sebastian and Lukas.
“It’s as tall as me, Mummy,” Sebastian announced proudly, standing next to it.
Lukas quickly got to his feet.
“Me too!”
Erik appeared, looking equally excited, although it wasn’t related to the multi-coloured creation on the floor.
“We have a gig,” he said. “It’s small, but it’s in a bar in the city, so it’s good. Really good.”
“Good for you,” she said.
His childish excitement was almost contagious. She wanted to get up and hug him the way she used to, assure him that it was truly amazing, but that closeness seemed to be gone, and she held back.
“I know you’ve got something on this morning,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll rehearse with Rob later.”
“Yes, thanks. I’m going to the library.”
He scrunched his face up, in that characteristically annoyed way.
“Not to work,” she added quickly. “For myself. I just finished a really good book and need a new one.” He still looked doubtful so she tried to open up: “I miss reading for pleasure as opposed to what is in line with the curriculum. I guess you could say that I have been rekindled with an old passion.”
He looked like he was going to refer to another old passion they should rekindle. Thankfully he knew not to say anything in front of the boys, who were now busy destroying their tower, Lego pieces flying across the room.
“I wonder who they get their destructive behaviour from” Erik said and left the room.
She detested his way of dropping a grenade in the room and then leaving. Why was she always to blame? He gave her no credit for anything. Who did all the cleaning, the washing, the ironing? She was the mother of their children, the breadwinner and also his maid! If anyone was destroying them, it wasn’t her. But looking at her watch, she realised there was no time for pointless arguments.
“Bye, boys.” She leaned down and kissed them both, making exaggerated smacking noises, which often made them giggle.
“Come on, Mum,” Lukas said, pushing her away.
They didn’t have time for her affection, they were already in the middle of a new creation: a space station. Once upon a time, she had been creative too. What happened to people when they grew up? Why did they lose their sense of fun and adventure?
“I’ll see you later. Have fun!”
She slipped out and drove towards Daniel’s house. If she had time, she would still go to the library but she couldn’t tell Erik the truth. Between her need to borrow books and visiting a student on a Saturday, he was less likely to understand the latter.
*
The house was only a ten-minute drive from Anna’s house, straight through town along Mörnavägen, past the widespread school area on the right and then down a hill towards the seaside. This area used to be taken up by multiple summerhouses, the gardens overflowing with wild flowers. The last few years, people had built larger family homes on these plots but the odd red-painted summerhouse was still visible here and there. Daniel’s house was one of those exceptions. A small, quaint looking shack that had seen better days and most likely lacked insulation.
Daniel’s mother, Frida, opened the door; untidy blonde hair, no make-up and dressed in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a top without a bra. She seemed sleepy.
“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “Did I wake you up?”
“No, I just forgot that you were coming.”
Anna had sent her a text message as a reminder but she must have missed it.
“Is Daniel home?”
“Dan!” Frida screamed, rather than called, into the house. A minute later he appeared, looking newly showered but dressed in the same clothes as the day before. With his hair wet, he looked sleek and less rebellious.
“Come in,” Frida said. “Sorry, it’s a bit messy.”
Anna stepped into the living room, which indeed was a mess and reeked of something unidentifiable. Bags of crisps, drinking glasses, coke bottles, scraps of paper and videos were strewn across the table and the floor. No sign of alcohol though.
She found a space on the denim-covered sofa and sat down. Frida flopped down on a swivelling chair on the other side of the table, looking like an exhausted teenager who was about to be reprimanded by her mother.
Except Frida was older than Anna. She was at least forty, the lines on her face reflecting a hard life. With a little effort, however, she would be pretty.
“Thanks for coming on a Saturday,” Frida said and Anna appreciated the acknowledgement.
“No problem,” she said. “I know you’re working a lot during the week.”
“Have to do extra shifts where I can.”
Frida worked at a local factory, sewing bags if Anna had understood it correctly. On paper, she didn’t sound like a ‘slacker’.
“Daniel, why don’t you join us?” Anna said and he motioned closer but didn’t sit down.
“Is he in trouble?” Frida asked. She looked fatigued rather than angry.
“Daniel is very bright,” Anna said, avoiding the question since she didn’t want to lie. “Although I feel he could use more support.”
“Can’t the school sort that out?”
Daniel grimaced behind his mother’s back as if to say ‘see, I told you’.
“I mean from home.”
“Look, honey.” Frida leaned forward in her chair, assuming a condescending look. “I’m sure you mean well but I have to work and his father isn’t exactly around.”
“Where is his father?”
Frida threw her arms in the air, finally showing some energy. “With another woman, God knows where.”
“Right.” Anna nodded knowingly. “Anyway, if you could perhaps…” Take an interest in his education. “Work with him to get his assignments done.”
“He’s not five,” she snapped.
“Oh, I know,” Anna said. “He can do it by himself. But perhaps you could acknowledge that he’s done it.”
Behind Frida, Daniel sighed and Anna couldn’t help herself. She turned to him and said: “You don’t have to like the work, you just need to get it done.”
“You know what I need,” Daniel mouthed quietly.
Frida cut in: “Wait, what?” she said. “You want me to pat him on the head like a dog and say ‘bloody well done’?”
The way the conversation was going, it would have been better for Daniel not to be there. Then Anna could have been tougher, more forceful, to make the mother see that Daniel needed her badly. Now she had to tiptoe around the issue.
“Encouragement goes a long way,” she said, ignoring Frida’s sarcastic tone.
Frida turned to her son. “Dan, can you please make your teacher a cup of tea?”
He reluctantly disappeared into the kitchen and Anna was relived. Now she would take the bull by its horns, except Frida leaned forward, revealing a large, oval bruise on her left arm. Frida must have seen the shock in her eyes because she quickly pulled her sleeve down and whispered:
“Look,” she said before Anna could think of anything to say. “I don’t understand the stuff Dan is studying. It’s going to make me look stupid.”
Frida’s tone had changed. It was softer. Anna forced herself to shake off the deep purple image on Frida’s arm. It could be work-related. A machine gone wild.
She cleared her throat. “Frida, if you could just ask him a few questions, such as ‘what are you studying at the moment?’ or ‘have you got any tests this week’, then that would be encouraging in its own way.”
“He will lie.”
Anna nodded.
“Possibly. Look, he’s really bright, he just needs motivation. If he thinks you’re going to be proud of him, he’s likely to pay more attention.”
Show him you care! That he needs you.
Just then, Daniel turned up with only one cup of tea and Anna drank it self-consciously while they watched her. She tried to keep the conversation going
but it was hard work; Frida mostly answered ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to her questions. Daniel seemed pleased, though.
*
Anna felt lighter as she drove out of town towards Hågarp. She tried to enjoy the scenery along the road, cast in glorious sunlight. Autumn colours were slowly making their appearance in the midst of the greenery; the cool deep-blue ocean on her right making her feel free. Daniel and his mother soon became distant characters. Finally, she would be going back to the library. She was determined to leave work and Mörna behind. It bothered her that most people knew who she was there. It made it difficult to get close to anyone, in case they should gossip.
When she parked, her phone alerted her to two new messages from an unknown number.
You see? She doesn’t give a shit.
The sender’s face took shape in her mind. Messy blond hair, upturned nose and intense brown eyes. A disparaging message from a lost young man. Her heart heavy, she read the second message.
You turned up. That’s what someone who cares would do.
She leaned against the headrest and took a deep breath. It seemed she could do nothing right. He chose to misunderstand. She should notify someone. She should but she wouldn’t. The new principal had clearly shown he wasn’t interested in problematic issues, he was too green for that, and Kent would try to talk to Daniel, which would make the situation worse. She had toyed with the idea of speaking directly to the counsellor but her hippie style put Anna off; she was too aloof, someone who wanted to be the students’ buddy. Daniel wouldn’t respond to that. Erik was right about one thing: she cared too much. That was the problem. But how could she not?
She needed a breather, to recharge and come up with a new solution. That’s why she was here. She looked up at the library as Iris flipped the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’. Time to escape, she thought, and got out of the car.
*
No one else had arrived by the time Anna stepped through the door. She felt transported into a capsule, the air warm and inviting, the rows upon rows of books giving off a sense of culture and history. She walked straight to the counter where Iris had her hands in a large cardboard box.
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