When I Wake Up

by Jessica Jarlvi

  Rolf looked up; the guy’s eyes were a bit too inquisitive for his liking.

  He was tempted to say that his wife was dead, to make him squirm. Except he couldn’t say the words ‘Iris’ and ‘dead’ in the same sentence.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said.

  Chapter 25 – Anna

  November 2015

  Anna parked on the dusty gravel and walked up to Iris’s house. It was fairly large, with an extension to the left, three doors facing the courtyard she was standing in. She stepped up to what she assumed was the main entrance but couldn’t find a doorbell. Instead she knocked hard, small flecks of red paint peeling off, landing by her feet.

  After their last meeting had been interrupted by Lena and her adolescent attitude, Anna’s excitement about book club had been dampened slightly. She had passed on Lena’s greeting to Kent and his reaction had confirmed her gut feeling: “She’s a nutcase,” he had said. “Don’t involve yourself with her unless you have to.”

  Iris had called Anna, which at first had surprised her since they had never swapped numbers, but then she had remembered that her contact details – much to Erik’s annoyance – were publicly listed.

  “Would you mind if we meet at my house next week instead?” she had asked. “The vents are being cleaned at the library.”

  Anna’s enthusiasm had immediately been resurrected. She would have the opportunity to soak in Iris’s home atmosphere, to learn more about her, and that was exciting. Although she had to admit she was nervous about potentially meeting Iris’s husband. Rolf Sören had featured in the newspaper over the weekend after it was discovered that one of the paintings in his ‘Red Series’ was painted with one hundred per cent pig’s blood. He had claimed it was from a local butcher’s shop but the art critics had had a field day, claiming he had killed the pig himself.

  Iris was barefoot when she opened the door, wearing a multi-coloured kaftan. It was the first time Anna had seen her in anything other than black.

  “There you are,” Iris said, opening up her arms. “I hope you didn’t get lost.”

  They embraced in a typical greeting. It was genuine but quick.

  “I almost did,” Anna said. “It’s so dark out here without street lights.”

  “That’s what I like,” Iris said. “It’s almost as if we don’t exist, it’s so deserted and tranquil.”

  Anna held up a golden-brown sponge creation. “I baked a banana cake,” she said.

  “Lovely. Come on in.”

  Inside, there were a number of lanterns and tea-lights, creating a truly wonderful ambiance.

  “I simply love candles,” Iris said. “Don’t you?”

  They sat down in the living room, the walls made up of unpainted terracotta-coloured bricks, the furniture random, the sofas covered in blankets. Books were everywhere: stacked on the coffee table, lined up on shelves, in piles on the floor. Various paintings were either hanging or leaning up against the walls. Anna didn’t understand what most of them portrayed, but then she wasn’t that interested in Rolf Sören’s art.

  “Welcome to our creative chaos,” Iris said.

  They sat down, sinking into a couple of deep armchairs with batik-patterned cushions. Anna was about to ask one of her pre-prepared small-talk questions (How was your week? Have you read War and Peace? Can you recommend any new Swedish authors?) when Iris said: “You look amazing.”

  “Oh…” She looked down on her grey shirtdress. “This old thing?” she said, even though it was brand new. It looked so plain in Iris’s vibrant living room.

  Iris wasn’t wearing her reading glasses this evening. Her eyes were bare, only a hint of mascara framing her green eyes.

  “I really enjoyed Kallocain,” Anna said.

  Iris poured the coffee and handed Anna a knife and plates for the cake.

  “What did you like about it?”

  Anna felt self-conscious, as if her role as a teacher had been exchanged with that of a student. At the same time, she couldn’t help wanting to perform well.

  “It was scary how the state really controlled the people in the book,” she said. “How they couldn’t think for themselves.”

  “I think the idea of the truth serum is fascinating,” Iris said. “How Leo Kall uses it on his wife because he thinks she will reveal that she’s in love with someone else.”

  “Only he finds out she fantasises about killing him,” Anna said.

  “Exactly. It works against him.”

  “Can you imagine?” Anna said, sitting back. “Living with someone who wants to kill you?”

  “This is delicious!” Iris exclaimed as she bit into the cake. “Leo and Linda’s marriage isn’t real of course,” she continued, wiping her mouth on a small square napkin. “The purpose of the marriages in the book is to produce children, nothing else.”

  “I know. It’s a strange set-up,” Anna agreed.

  “Not all marriages are the same,” Iris said, chewing on the cake. “I wouldn’t want to harm Rolf but he’s not enough for me.”

  He wasn’t enough for Iris? But she adored him? Anna processed the new information, shocked but intrigued. She took a piece of cake and sipped her coffee, not quite sure how to respond.

  “I’m going to make more coffee,” Iris said and stood up. “This is cold.”

  Anna moved in her seat, pulling at her dress. She wanted to be friends with Iris and that meant communicating.

  “What do you mean exactly?” Anna said. “About him not being enough?”

  “I mean,” Iris said, picking up the thermos. “I mean that I’m not monogamous.”

  It sounded so matter of fact; Iris’s face open, the personal divulgence like a trap released.

  Anna’s heart beat fast.

  “You’re not?” she said. “What about your husband?”

  “Neither of us is,” Iris said simply. “Not that we broadcast it.”

  Anna nodded. “Wow.”

  “Anyway, that’s not for everyone. Do you want more coffee?”

  Iris made her way to the kitchen and Anna quickly got up to join her, a feeling of wanting to normalise the environment in which the bomb had landed.

  “I don’t think Boye was monogamous either,” Anna said, catching up to Iris. Let’s talk literature.

  “Actually, I think she was,” Iris said. “Just because she lived with a woman doesn’t mean she cheated.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know.”

  Working in tandem, Iris pulled out a new filter and filled it with coffee while Anna measured up the water.

  “Boye was modern that way,” Anna said. “Living with a woman even though it was against the law. I admire that. Everyone should be brave enough to be who they are.”

  Iris nodded, pouring the water into the coffee maker.

  Contemplatively, and without thinking, Anna continued: “And you’re not monogamous.”

  For a moment, Iris looked unsure. She switched the machine on and as it kicked into gear, water started spluttering out. They both turned their attention to the glass pot, filling up with the tar-like liquid.

  “Does that mean you see other people?” Anna asked.

  They didn’t look at each other; still transfixed by the fresh brew.

  “It does,” Iris said eventually.

  “I shouldn’t pry,” Anna said, apologising. She rinsed out their mugs and put them on the sink, next to an amazing AGA cooker. “I can’t remember, do you take milk?”

  “It’s fine,” Iris said, resting a hand on Anna’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. I never talk about it because, well, it’s a small town and I don’t want people to judge me.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I know you won’t. And yes, I do take milk.”

  Chapter 26 – Iris

  November 2015

  After a deep but lively discussion about the permeated darkness in Kallocain, Anna made to leave. She started stacking the plates and the coffee cups and Iris had to stop her.

  “I�
��ll do it later,” she said.

  She didn’t want the ordinary to overshadow the mystery too much.

  Anna put her coat on, a warm woolly creation, and leaned in for their farewell hug. Iris couldn’t resist closing her eyes, feeling Anna’s curves, assured that the thick fabric wouldn’t give her away. Anna lingered longer than normal, her ear warm on Iris’s cheek.

  Iris knew that she had opened the door of possibilities. All she needed to do now was invite Anna in. Always follow your instincts. And so she did. Leaving the warmth of the embrace, she pulled back and faced Anna. Their eyes locked and Iris could sense her uncertainty. Then, very gently so as not to scare Anna away, she put her hands around Anna’s glowing face and leaned in.

  Soft. Her lips were soft.

  Anna seemed puzzled yet she didn’t pull away so Iris brought her closer. Their bodies were touching now, the kiss growing intense; lips explored, strong flavours of dark roasted beans mixed with longing. Anna wrapped her arms around Iris, showing an enthusiasm Iris hadn’t expected, which made her heart beat stronger. The minutes got lost; Iris wanted Anna to stay. For a long, long time.

  “Wait,” Anna said, breaking away. There was panic in her voice. “Rolf?”

  “He’s not home,” Iris said. “He will be back very late.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Iris held Anna’s face in her hands. “Anna, I have never brought anyone to my home before.”

  Anna’s face relaxed.

  “What happens here, is no one else’s business,” Iris continued. “It’s just between you and me.”

  She removed Anna’s coat, then kissed her neck, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Her lips.

  Anna looked down. “I’m nervous,” she said quietly.

  So fragile. Iris would need to be gentle.

  She opened the buttons in Anna’s dress, one by one; her breasts warm against Iris’s own body. She could sense Anna handing herself over, her body weightless, lithe and willing.

  They moved smoothly from the hallway to the living room, transporting their bodies from up against the wall, to the couch, to the floor, like two characters in a silent movie, their bodies entwined. As they moaned, caressed and kissed, clothing began to fall to the floor.

  Chapter 27 – Erik

  March 2016

  When Erik married Anna he never imagined she might die before him. They never signed a pre-nup, nor did they draw up wills. Naïve perhaps but they never even discussed it. Only when they bought the house, did they arrange life insurance. That way the mortgage would be paid off, should one of them die. It felt morbid, signing those papers. Although necessary of course. Mature. It made him feel responsible.

  Anna isn’t dead. She’s still in this limbo-land where she might wake up or she might not. When people ask him about her condition, he gets annoyed, and to deal with it better, he’s come up with a standard reply: “All we can do is wait.”

  He has learnt not to show too much emotion. Sometimes his emotions can be beneficial of course. Like when he called the council office about new day care placements for the children. He’s still in a queue but someone now cares enough to work on it. Soon, it will be resolved – ‘to give Sebastian and Lukas a fresh start’ – and he will never have to see Pernilla again.

  Anna once insinuated that he had cheated. It was the night he had been out with Rob. For weeks, he felt nervous every time Anna dropped or picked up the children at day care but at the time, Pernilla seemed to regard it as what it was: a one-night stand.

  Erik cheated. Only once. It barely counts but he recognises that he did. With Anna it is different. He never expected her to be unfaithful. Especially since she no longer seemed interested in sex. Yet she did cheat. He knows this. The question is, how does he notify the police? He could show the emails Anna was sent from Xeroxwed, but they could be viewed as harmless. Internet chats done in the comfort of your own home, without the exchange of bodily fluids.

  That’s when he has a ‘light bulb’ moment.

  *

  As soon as Rob steps over the threshold, Erik lashes out: “Did you fuck my wife?”

  He slams the door shut behind Rob, locks it. Now there’s no escape.

  “Dude, what are you talking about?”

  The offended look on Rob’s face.

  “Took you by surprise, did I? Thought I wouldn’t find out? You have to have all the girls, don’t you?” Erik grabs Rob’s collar and shoves him up against the wall. Coats and bags come crashing down, landing in a heap on the wooden floor. “Including Anna.”

  He’s spitting and Rob angrily wipes his face.

  “Get off me!” Rob shouts.

  He takes hold of Erik’s shirt. A button pops.

  “Just bloody admit it, will you?” Erik shouts back.

  “You’re one to talk. Having a beer with the boys’ sexy teacher while your wife is in a coma.”

  That does it. The pain goes deep into Erik’s stomach and he wants Rob to feel that same throbbing soreness. He lunges at him and Rob buckles and ends up flattened on the floor. There’s a distinct look of contempt on Rob’s face as he gathers his limbs. Erik’s anger subsides momentarily but he can’t stop now. He grabs hold of Rob’s shoulders to head-butt him when Rob shakes him off, sweat running down his furrowed brow.

  “Get the fuck away from me!”

  “Just admit it…” Erik starts, his voice trailing off.

  Once again, the fury leaves room for something else. Rob is his best friend… Fuck. Tears push against his eyelids but he won’t cry in front of Rob. He leans forward but instead of hitting Rob, he embraces him. Hard.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Rob’s voice is angry but it also sounds concerned.

  “Did you sleep with her?” Erik asks.

  “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

  “A womaniser?”

  Erik is half-serious, half-joking but Rob is clearly beyond offended.

  “Your best pal’s wife is off limits, man.”

  “I’m just so confused right now,” Erik says.

  “Then talk to me. Don’t fucking attack me.”

  “Sorry. Come here, I need to show you something.”

  He pulls Rob into the kitchen.

  “Whatever you say,” Rob says, following him. “I know you’re upset but don’t ever do that again.”

  Instead of answering, Erik opens Anna’s laptop and logs in. He opens the ‘Other’ folder and picks an email at random. “Read this.”

  Just thinking about you makes me wet. Your moans. Tender, passionate, wild. You’re insatiable. And I love it.

  Erik studies Rob’s contorting face.

  “What is this?”

  “An email.”

  “I can see that. Who’s it from? Your little teacher friend?”

  “What? No! It was sent to Anna.”

  Rob’s eyes widen, his mouth a big dark hole. “Anna?”

  Erik relaxes, his own feelings justified.

  “Wait,” Rob says. “You thought I sent these? That’s why you just accused me of…?”

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to think anymore. This has completely thrown me.”

  “I’m impressed,” Rob says, smiling and looking like his old self. “You thought I had written this? That is way too poetic for me. I would be like ‘you make me wanna come’. Straight to the point, you know?”

  “Rob, we’re talking about my wife.”

  “Sorry, but how could you possibly think I wrote that?”

  Rob scratches his head and they both stare at the screen.

  “So who sent it?” Rob asks. “Are there more?”

  Erik nods. “There are loads. I have no idea who sent them. It must be some sick joke, or… I don’t know. We weren’t, you know…” He squirms but clears his throat and says it: “… having sex all that often.”

  Although he’s allowed himself to be vulnerable, Rob doesn’t seem to notice. He’s busy clicking back to the folder to open a
nother email.

  “Have you shown this to the police?”

  Erik shakes his head. “Not yet. They’re sort of accusing me of cheating so I don’t want them to think that I made this up.”

  “It’s evidence, though. Black and white. This could be a motive. Jealous lover attacks… or something. It’s just that I can’t believe that Anna would cheat. She’s so… perfect. But it definitely seems that way.” He looks at Erik with compassion. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Thanks. I’m just… Maybe you could mention it to the police?”

  “Me?” Rob looks like it’s a crazy idea. “I would have to tell them you showed it to me and then they would wonder why you’re not telling them yourself.”

  “No, I thought that perhaps…” Erik thinks carefully about what he says next. “… that perhaps you could tell them you suspected she was cheating.”

  “But they will ask who with and I won’t know. I mean, I want to help but I… Oh, wait a minute….” Rob stands up straight, his hand is in the air as if he’s asking for permission to speak.

  “What?”

  “What I said earlier, about the emails being poetic,” Rob says. “Do you think a teacher could write something like that?”

  “I’m not sure…” Where is he going with this?

  “Maybe what’s-his-name, her colleague, wrote it? Kent?”

  Erik nods slowly even though he doesn’t agree.

  “Maybe you need to pay him a visit,” Rob says.

  “If I do, will you go to the police?”

  “Let’s see what you find out first.”

  Rob looks like he’s playing a part in a soap opera but Erik isn’t stupid. He knows what he has to do.

  *

  Kent and Märta live in an art deco house at the outskirts of town, accompanied by an unruly garden. Erik navigates through the tall grass, where there used to be a tiled path.

  The moment Märta opens the door he thinks: I would cheat with Anna if I were Kent. He would need a bit of fun on the side. It’s not that Märta is ugly, she’s just tense, the lines in her face deep, making her look grouchy. That would put them in the same boat. Him and Märta, bobbing on the ocean of adultery victims.