“You’re mine!” Rolf cried out as he came. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”
Afterwards, when their bodies relaxed into the aftermath of the great orgasm, Iris tightened her robe and cracked four new eggs into a bowl.
Rolf had never been domesticated but he did value mealtimes. He would always eat with her if she was at home. They had shared many treasured moments as a family around the kitchen table, the three of them. The house felt empty without Karin.
“Will you join me for a gallery opening this evening?” Rolf asked when they sat down to eat.
“Are any of your pieces showing?” she asked.
Although her support for Rolf was unwavering, the older she got, the further removed she felt from his circus.
“Not exactly,” he said. “But we should go. The owner is interested in my religious series.”
They exchanged a glance over the near empty plates. He knew that she strongly opposed his latest creative efforts. They were both atheists, so why play with fire?
“I’m sure you will be fine without me,” she said.
She wanted to avoid lecturing him about cultural sensitivities. Her dislike would only spur him on. When she had opposed a series of art projects that incorporated human blood, she had spoken up. Except, instead of backing down, he had become more excited than ever.
“If that’s your reaction, Iris, imagine the world’s reaction!”
He wasn’t known across the world but she hadn’t pointed that out.
“I need you there,” he begged.
“I have book club this evening.”
He stopped eating. “Book club?” A cheeky grin. “Since when?”
“We have our second meeting tonight,” she said, maintaining a serious look. “You were away last Wednesday. Out of town, remember?”
To see a woman? The less she knew, the better.
“I thought you wanted to keep your distance from the public?”
“Just trying something new.”
“This Lena involved?”
“No.” Thank goodness.
Lena had sent her another text.
Dear Iris, you’re familiar with the poet Karin Boye but I’m 100% sure you haven’t read this poem: “From a bad girl”.
I hope you're having a rotten time.
I hope you're lying awake like I am,
and feeling strangely glad and stirred
and dizzy and anxious and very disturbed,
and suddenly you'll hurry up to settle down and
sleep like a top.
I hope it takes you longer than you think… I hope you don't even get a wink!
Why couldn’t Lena move on? For now, Iris opted for silence. It was the tried and tested method.
“You spoke to Karin?” she asked.
“I told her I love you,” he said.
“That’s all?”
“That’s all she needs to know.” He started singing. “I can’t give you anything but love.”
He pulled her up and they moved slowly to the music; Iris rested her head on his shoulder. The floor creaked, birds sang outside and in the distance a tractor was pulling a plough through a field. It felt peaceful. Until Rolf stopped dancing. Holding her in a firm grip, he asked:
“Do you remember our rules?”
“Of course,” she said.
“No matter what, nothing or no one comes between us,” he said. She nodded, not sure if it was a statement or a threat.
Chapter 20 – Daniel
October 2015
While Frida was engrossed in a strenuous fuck aerobics session with a longhaired man with a ridiculous moustache, Dan started to pack. The walls transported every moan into his bedroom, and he furiously threw his few belongings into a backpack. Books, comics, paper, pens, the school folder, clothes and a toothbrush were all the things he needed. He just about managed to pull the zip closed in his inherited Fjällräven backpack.
When he walked through the living room, Frida looked up from the tattered old couch, only a blanket covering her naked body.
“Where are you going, hun?”
“As far away as fucking possible.”
The man pulled her back down, as if shielding himself. Fucking loser.
Dan slammed the door shut, not bothering to wait for her to protest.
Martin would have thrown the guy to the curb by now. They hadn’t visited him in prison. It wasn’t exactly Dan’s fault. He had no idea where he was held and Frida refused to tell him.
Martin was due to get out soon and would probably deal with Frida’s moustache-dude then. Except Frida had said he wasn’t welcome back home.
“He’s old enough to get his own place. I may have done some stupid shit but I have never been arrested.”
“We have forgiven you plenty, Frida,” Dan had said but she didn’t seem to get it.
He kept asking her if she had spoken to the lawyer but she couldn’t get her facts straight. Dan wasn’t even clear about why his brother was locked up. Surely it wasn’t just because of that stupid fight? The rumour at school was that Martin had been busted for drugs, but Dan refused to believe that.
Tears stung, but he clenched his jaws and made them go away. He was resilient; maybe not a superhero but he could make a decent villain. Nekron or Eclipso. Someone tough. He knew it was childish to still read comics but no one needed to know. Superheroes had been his trustworthy buddies for a long time; they made him feel invincible, like there was nothing he couldn’t get through. For Anna, he could be Black Adam, a reformed villain.
Dan unlocked his bike and rolled down the hill towards school. It was past six o’clock but Anna was most likely still there. When she realised he had no intention of going back home she would have no choice but to let him stay. ‘Just one night’, she would say and then it would be another and yet another. He envisioned dinners around their wooden table. Her family, soon to be his. There was a chance she would notify someone, but so what? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He had to at least try.
Except through the windows of the teacher’s lounge, he could see that it was empty. Where was she? He cycled down to the parking lot when her car pulled out. Shit! His feet trampled hard, pushing his bike forward with such speed, his lungs ached from the cold air. At the top of the road he expected her to turn left, to go home, but instead she turned right, exiting town. He tried to follow her but she was too fast and he had to give up. How could she? She was meant to go home, to receive him.
He took out his notebook and read through the story he had written earlier, in amongst the secret pages at the back. It was never out of his sight, it was sacred.
She greeted him with open arms.
“Come in, let me take your bag.”
“What about your husband?”
“Dan, let me tell you a secret.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t love him.”
“You don’t? So what, you’re going to leave him?”
“Yes. For you.”
She held him close. He could feel her heart beating through the sheer fabric of her blouse.
Dan looked up, still feeling the smooth silk. It had seemed so real. What was he going to do now?
Chapter 21 – Anna
October 2015
The book on the coffee table sat between them, the letters in red pulsating from the cover: Greed. They were waiting for the other members of the book club. Anna tried to think of something to talk about. Small talk. Why was it so hard?
“Do you have children?” she asked.
After the twins were born, Anna had discovered that this was a great ice-breaker, provided the other person answered ‘yes’.
“A daughter,” Iris said. “She’s at university already, she wants to be a graphic designer, much to her father’s delight. He’s constantly visiting her.”
“That’s good. My husband is also a very involved dad. He’s good at playing with the children.” She thought for a moment. “I probably don’t tell him that often enough. I don’t know, we tend to get s
tuck on the small things, argue about who’s picking them up or putting them to bed, who’s turn it is to cook dinner.”
Iris seemed to contemplate this. “I don’t think we have ever argued about that,” she said. “We have been very clear about our roles from the beginning.”
Anna watched as Iris poured the coffee into two yellow Höganäs Keramik cups. They were sitting in the same spot as the last time, their feet free of shoes, legs pulled underneath them. The room was glowing in the candlelight, the sky dark outside. In the distance, she could hear the gentle rise and fall of the ocean.
“I guess I thought we were clear about our roles,” Anna said. “But then, when the boys were born… I don’t know, they’re my life and being a mother is everything I expected it to be, but we don’t seem to have found a rhythm ever since. It’s like we’re constantly chasing our tails.”
Iris added a dash of milk to her coffee.
“Having children isn’t easy on any relationship,” Iris said. “Our world was completely turned upside down after Karin was born. It gets easier.” She stirred her cup. “The trick is to focus on the good parts. Those are the things you end up remembering.”
Iris was right. It was just that something had changed. Was it Erik? Or was it herself? Parenthood had definitely altered the dynamic between them.
“So, what did you think of the book?” Iris asked.
She picked it up from the table, as if to remind Anna which one they had read.
Anna hesitated: “What about the others?”
It was only the second book club meeting but no one else had turned up this time either. Anna didn’t mind. It made it easier for her to express her opinions, especially when she felt out of her depth. “A Nobel-prize-winning author is pressure,” she had told Kent, who had chuckled, not knowing who Elfriede Jelinek was. “You know your literature,” Kent had said. “You’ll be fine.”
“They’re a bit unreliable,” Iris said. “They probably won’t make it.”
She reached for one of the cinnamon rolls Anna had bought from the local bakery and Anna took one too. According to Kent, his wife’s circle ‘read, discussed, drank coffee and ate pastries’ and so after last week’s dry biscuits, Anna had wanted to bring something more inspiring. Next time, she would perhaps even bake.
“I wish this smell could be bottled,” Iris said between bites. “Cinnamon, dark roasted coffee and books. It would be a bestseller.”
Anna nodded in agreement. It was a pleasant thought.
“Of course, you would have to add sweaty feet to make it realistic,” Iris added and wriggled her toes, the red lacquer on her nails glowing.
She chuckled and Anna joined in, relaxing into the large chair. Iris’s dimples deepened, making her look youthful, girlish almost.
A couple of weeks earlier, Anna never would have imagined herself sitting here, at the library in Hågarp, laughing and enjoying herself. It was as if a new window had opened in her life, fresh air streaming in.
“So,” Iris said. “What did you think of Greed?”
Anna sipped her coffee. Where to start?
“It’s quite sad… depressing even,” she said. “I mean, a man who exploits women is not uplifting.”
“Although he’s described as pathetic,” Iris retorted. “That’s vindicating, don’t you think?”
“I guess so,” Anna said, tugging at her floral maxi skirt. “But the women are so vulnerable, so… I don’t know, sad?” She regretted having used the word ‘sad’ twice in such a short space of time and quickly added: “These women, they’re constantly seeking approval by men. I wish they would be stronger.”
Iris nodded.
“And what about the violence?” Anna continued, daring herself to take charge. “One of the women asks the man to avoid hitting her in the face. As if she accepts the abuse as long as the world can’t witness it. I mean, she asks him, almost politely!”
She was getting too emotional; she should hold back. This wasn’t about her, although she had a brief vision of her mother, running away, over and over, always returning. Hiding behind a green heavy curtain, Anna would sit on the cold wooden floor and watch her parents argue. She was not going to have that type of marriage. Ever.
“It’s supposed to be ironic,” Iris said.
“But he really hates women.”
“The narrator hates him,” Iris corrected her.
“I just wish the women were stronger,” Anna said and to her horror, she started to cry. “I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed, wiping the tears away. “I’m not sure what came over me.”
“You’re passionate about the book,” Iris said. “Or the subject at least.”
She stretched a hand across the table and took Anna’s in hers.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Every feeling is allowed in this library.”
“I’m just…” Anna started but was interrupted by a loud knocking.
Even though they were in the heart of the library, away from the door, the banging couldn’t be ignored.
“Is it the other members of the book club?” Anna asked.
She wiped her face with the sleeves of her top, her fingers tracing under the eyes, clearing the skin of smeared mascara.
Iris shook her head and got up. “I don’t think so, but I should check to see who that is.”
She stood up and made her way towards the door. Anna decided to join her. She couldn’t just let Iris go alone, what if someone was trying to break in? Bringing her phone, she followed a few paces behind, wiping her face once again, making sure she looked presentable.
When they had passed the reception, Anna could make out a woman through the glass. She felt as if she recognised her, but was distracted the moment Iris opened the door and the woman started shouting.
“I called Rolf!” she said, her high-pitched voice piercing through the evening. “He said you were here. It’s a bloody book club and I’m not invited?”
Anna decided to hang back, the situation feeling personal, as if she were intruding. Except the woman had seen her and barged in.
“Who’s this?”
“This is Anna,” Iris said calmly. “She’s borrowing books for her class. She’s a teacher in Mörna.”
“Lena?” Anna asked, now realising who she was. “Lena Blom? I think you know my colleague, Kent.”
Lena eyed her. She appeared to be collecting herself. “Why aren’t you borrowing books from Tania Svensson in Mörna?”
“Because she’s not as familiar with Karin Boye,” Iris interjected.
“You’re teaching Boye?” Lena asked, looking suspicious.
Anna had no idea why Iris would say that because they hadn’t discussed the twentieth century Swedish author once, but she quickly found herself. Reciting the beginning of a Boye poem, she said: “Yes, of course it hurts when buds are breaking. Why else would the springtime falter? That’s my favourite.”
Lena fiddled with the strap on her handbag, the atmosphere in the room feeling awkward.
“I see,” Lena said. “Well, Iris is the perfect person to help you. She loves Boye’s poems. Especially ‘From a bad girl’. That’s her favourite.”
She turned to Iris, who showed no reaction to Lena’s bizarre outburst. Lena smacked her glossy lips, her feet moving around like a boxer about to take the next swing. “So, Iris, should I wait until you two are finished?”
“No, Lena, I think it will take a while. We have only just started.”
“So you’re saying I have to share you now?”
Lena glared at Anna.
“Lena,” Iris said firmly. “You better leave.”
Anna wasn’t quite sure what was happening but she was impressed that Iris managed to keep her cool. Lena didn’t move at first but eventually she opened the door, letting the cold October air seep through. “Say ‘Hi’ to Kent,” she said in Anna’s direction.
“Oh, sure.” She nodded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I will.”
Iris closed the doo
r and turned the key.
“I’m really sorry about that,” she said. “We work together and recently had a disagreement that involved Boye. I didn’t want her to join us.”
“There’s no need to apologise.”
Lena’s presence wasn’t welcomed by her either.
Chapter 22 – Iris
October 2015
After the unfortunate drama with Lena, Anna asked for the bathroom and Iris worried that perhaps she felt the need to escape.
“This way,” she said and escorted Anna back through the hall of books, past the central counter that was submerged in darkness, all the way back to where the small kitchen was. “Right through there,” she showed Anna.
This part of the library had been an apartment once. A small one-bedroom that was now merged with the large hall. The kitchen and the bathroom had been left intact, however: charming but in need of an update.
Iris remained outside the bathroom door, invisible in the unlit room, allowing her thoughts to form. She felt dizzy, as if she had been drinking a few glasses of wine. What was she doing?
For some reason, she thought of Hanna, who had been one of the very first women in her life. Everything had been easy, from start to finish. When she had left Hanna, no numbers had been exchanged; they had been happy to meet but equally happy to go their separate ways. Through the years, she had floated around, like a ghost, from bed to bed, withdrawing satisfied. The women: artistic, rebellious, passionate and living life to the full. She wanted no regrets, for either party. Anna was different altogether. Nurturing rather than adventurous, reserved, clearly inexperienced, young, a wife and mother.
When Anna opened the door, she walked straight into Iris.
“I’m sorry,” Iris said as she took a step back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She should shut down the book club, withdraw. Old age had obviously blurred her sense of realism.
Anna didn’t respond. They were simply standing in the dark, aware of each other’s presence but barely able to make each other out.
Then Iris made a decision. She took a cautious step towards Anna, drawing in the scent of soap and cardamom, wrapped her arms around Anna’s back, bringing her into a hug. Anna moulded into her embrace. She was taller; Iris could feel her heart beating on her shoulder. The thought of not wanting to let go was intense and frightening. Closing her eyes, she tapped into her instincts and immediately felt her heart jolt. This wasn’t lust.
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