When I Wake Up

by Jessica Jarlvi

  “I’m here to see Kent,” he says.

  She shakes his hand. “I’m so sorry about Anna.” Her lines soften, a sympathetic smile appears.

  “Thanks. And… thank you for the flowers you sent.”

  Kent and Märta sent white lilies to the hospital. Kent obviously knew they were Anna’s favourite.

  “There you are.” Kent shows up, giving him a manly, albeit uncomfortable, hug. “I’ve been trying to call you. How is she?”

  “The same.” Erik clears his throat. “All we can do is wait.”

  “She’s strong, Erik. She will get better.”

  Erik nods. What do you know?

  “Come in, sit down.”

  They envelop him into their home, filled with old-fashioned farm cupboards, flower-patterned cushions and figurines, making him feel like he’s in his mother’s house. A cup of coffee is placed in his hand, accompanied by a Vanilla Heart on a plate. He takes a bite, the sweet custard filling his mouth.

  “How are the boys?”

  He swallows and takes a gulp of the coffee. They need to get through the pleasantries so that they can get down to business.

  “They’re okay,” he says. “Dealing with it, you know. They’re brave. Sleeping right now. My mate, Rob, is at the house.”

  The words seem to disappear into space, like puffs of smoke. He felt more sure of this when he left home. Confrontation is never comfortable, especially not with someone like Kent. Erik reminds himself that Kent may have been Anna’s support pillar at work but he did not father Anna’s children. He did. He is the man.

  Kent stands up and pours Erik a whiskey.

  “You look like you need one.”

  Erik agrees and takes a sip as soon as it’s placed in his hand. It’s strong and smooth.

  “So, I just need to ask you some questions,” he finally says, mounting up the courage. “Was Anna… happy at school?” Let’s start there.

  “You know she loves her job.”

  “Yeah, I know. But were there any problems?”

  Kent seems to think about this.

  “She had a tough start to the year,” Kent says. “I’m sure she’s told you about the new boy. He had some issues and Anna wanted to help him.”

  Erik racks his brain, searching for a point of reference? Did she talk about having problems with a student?

  “What kind of issues did he have?” he asks.

  “He was getting himself into fights.”

  “Right, had no problem beating people up, did he?”

  “Erik.” Kent seems to understand what he’s getting at. “We can’t jump to conclusions.”

  “Why not?”

  “Erik, she did her best and he did calm down. Anna definitely had something to do with that, which is exactly what I told the police. He respected her and wouldn’t have attacked her is my opinion.”

  “His name isn’t Adam, is it?”

  “No, and you really shouldn’t go chasing after her students, Erik.”

  “Okay, what about you then? Were you a support to Anna?”

  “Of course, we talked about it regularly.”

  “After hours.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Right.”

  Silence descends on them. They look at each other, tension prevalent in the air. Until Märta speaks: “Are you insinuating something here?” She looks intrigued rather than upset.

  “Is that so strange?” Erik defends himself. “Anna fucking loves Kent. It’s always ‘Kent this’ and ‘Kent that’.”

  Kent looks baffled. “We are very good friends, Erik.”

  The way he says it makes Erik feel dirty. As if he has brought something pure and beautiful through the mud that will never be completely clean again. He’s already crossed the line though. No point turning back.

  “That’s it? You sure?”

  “Erik, I am one hundred per cent sure. I’m flattered that you think she would be interested in an old bloke like me, but I am not on the market.” He exchanges a smile with Märta. They’re so textbook. Happily ever after.

  “So who do you think attacked Anna?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Kent says. He’s resting a hand on Märta’s knee, as if he needs to reassure her that he is there for her, no one else. “I feel like Anna has been so happy lately. A bit withdrawn perhaps but radiant, I would say.”

  Radiant? Erik nods. “So you think she was cheating on me?”

  Kent looks perplexed. “Not at all.”

  Shit. Why doesn’t anyone cooperate?

  “But it’s possible?” Erik probes.

  Kent shakes his head. “I think she would have told me.”

  Do you now? What else would she have told you? Erik imagines Anna and Kent after work, heads close together, her soft voice complaining about her husband, gaining Kent’s sympathy. It burns his ego as much as his heart.

  “Have you been helping the police?” Erik asks.

  Kent takes an annoyingly long sip of his whiskey. “As I already explained, I have spoken to them, yes. But I don’t think I have been all that helpful.” He looks Erik in the eye. “I can’t think of anyone who would want to harm Anna.”

  Chapter 28 – Daniel

  November 2015

  Dan cycled around town, past Anna’s two-storey house and its empty driveway. The lights were on and he could make out her husband and their two small boys at the kitchen table. A white ceramic lamp dangled from the ceiling, lighting up their plates of meatballs and mashed potatoes. “Lingonberry?” he imagined their father asking them as he passed them the red jar. They shook their little heads, stretching their hands out to the bottle of ketchup instead. Anna had probably hand-rolled the meatballs and made the mashed potatoes from scratch, or maybe her husband had. Frida only ever bought the supermarket’s readymade super-savers pack. She would eat the meatballs with her fingers, often dressed in only her underwear. Occasionally, if she was sober and her payday didn’t end up at the liquor store, she would actually cook. His favourite meal was fläskpannkaka, a thick oven pancake made with pork.

  A car came driving down the road and he quickly hid behind a bush. A station wagon passed him; it wasn’t Anna’s black Volvo but a navy-blue Volkswagen Passat. He felt like throwing a stone at it but thought better of it. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Inside the house, dinner seemed to be over. While the boys ran out of the kitchen, their father took care of the dishes. Dan promised himself to help clear the table when he lived there. Anna would smile and thank him for being so helpful.

  Except Anna wasn’t there. Where was she? He waited for another hour, then cycled down to the town centre where he bought a hot dog. He was starving after seeing Anna’s family eat. With the hot dog in his hand, he continued on to the church. Not only was it clad in scaffolding while it was being painted, making it easy to hide; it was also strategically placed between two roads, both acting as entrances into Mörna. From here, he would be able to see Anna’s car. Except it didn’t show.

  An hour later, he went back to Anna’s house. Now the lights were out and goodnight stories most likely read. A faint blue flicker, perhaps from a TV, could be seen from the room next to the dark kitchen. Nothing else. He toyed with the idea of ringing the doorbell.

  “When will Anna be home?” he would ask. “I have a question about an assignment.”

  But what if her husband looked at him with disgust, a misplaced nobody who interrupted his evening? He couldn’t take that risk.

  In the end he had no choice but to go back to Frida. She was snoring on the couch but at least the dickhead was gone. He preferred it when her shags didn’t stay the night. No smug or guilty face eyeing him up in the morning. Both scenarios were equally excruciating.

  He went into Martin’s room. Soon it would be packed up. Not that his brother had many belongings. Next to the wardrobe there was an old hockey stick and his second-hand ice skates. They hadn’t been skating in a while. His brother had outgrown most of their regular activit
ies. Dan wondered why his brother hadn’t moved out sooner. Because of me. He had stayed to protect his little brother. The realisation made him head for the door. He felt guilty, the weak sibling in need of babying. Dan would make it easy for Martin. He would move out and create his own future.

  Back in his room, he flopped down on his bed, his shoes still on, and stared at the now familiar ceiling. He had thought about sneaking back inside the teacher’s lounge but he wasn’t sure. That first time, Kent had unfortunately snuck up on them and he had been forced to escape into a closet down the corridor before running outside. The second time he had had Anna to himself but she had been on edge and that wasn’t the way he liked her. He wanted her to hug him and stuff, tell him everything was okay, that she loved him.

  In his notebook, he continued his story.

  “Where do you want me to sleep?” he asked.

  “In the basement, so that my husband doesn’t get suspicious.”

  “Does he… touch you?”

  She looked alarm.

  “No, we never have sex anymore,” she said. “I’m leaving him. Plus we have young children so that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  He felt pleased.

  “I’m going to take care of you,” he said.

  “Oh Dan!” she said, her eyes happy.

  She seductively undressed in front of him, revealing an hourglass figure. Pulling him close, her hand started kneading the growing bulge between his legs.

  Dan stopped writing, his cock hard, his mind filled with confidence. Now he knew what he needed to do. He had to either catch Anna outside of school or her home, where there was no one else; just the two of them. The next evening he would be better prepared. If Frida’s car was back from the shop, he would drive. He might not have a licence but he knew how to get around. Otherwise, he would ‘borrow’ the neighbour’s moped. That way she wouldn’t get away.

  Chapter 29 – Iris

  November 2015

  Anna was on Iris’s mind the moment she woke up. She dared to admit she felt happy. Anna on the other hand, would probably be feeling guilty right now. Love them but leave them, Rolf would have said. He had always offered so much advice. Too much. There had been times when she had toyed with the idea of leaving Rolf, but she felt she owed him too much. They had met at a time when her confidence was at rock bottom, and he had made her feel worthy. Would she ever feel like she had repaid him?

  With Anna, Iris felt she had achieved the impossible. Anna was so unlike anyone she had ever wanted, so unpretentious and real. There was nothing remotely flaky about her. The fact that they had made love amazed her. If Rolf knew, he would have felt proud, pulled her close and wanted her, right there. He got off on her affairs, had encouraged them from the moment they met. But he didn’t know about Anna and neither would he.

  Iris felt she needed to get to know Anna better, explore… She sighed and shook her head. Anna was much younger. She had a family. It was most likely already over.

  “Coffee?” Rolf handed her a cup and sat down on the bed. “Fun night last night?”

  “I should be asking you.”

  She had smelt perfume on him as he crept into bed. He used to think that turned her on: ‘It’s a reminder that although others find me attractive, I’m still yours at the end of the night.’

  “Last night was actually quite boring,” Rolf said and gently stroked her cheek.

  Then he got back into bed and, spooned her. It was the last thing she had expected.

  “You’re going to make me spill my coffee,” she said.

  “Sorry.” His right hand was cradling her breast, the left hand playing with her hair.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I missed you last night, and I was thinking… perhaps we should, I don’t know, renew our vows?”

  He stroked her nipple through the sheer fabric of her nightie. She tensed even though she enjoyed the sensation his touch caused her body.

  “Why now?” she asked.

  “Because I want to start over.”

  At that, she gently pushed his arm away, rejecting his words.

  “I want us to be exclusive,” he said. “Not see other women anymore.”

  She laughed. “Is it April Fool’s Day?”

  He pulled himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “I mean it.” His facial expression looked hurt and for a moment she felt sympathy for her husband of twenty-two years, a sporadic sense of pity. That was until the bleaker memories of their marriage resurfaced, the feelings of inadequacy, of being shared.

  “But it was your idea,” she said.

  “I’ve had enough, Iris. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.”

  “You must have had a bad evening, Rolf. What did she do? Did she talk too much? Did she criticise your art? Did she turn out to be male?” She forced a laugh, trying to be overly humoristic to distract from her own emotional evening. Anna on the floor, her eyes filled with affection.

  “No, Iris, it wasn’t like that. Anyway, you don’t want to know.”

  “Normally I don’t, but I can make an exception since this one seems to have given you some sort of an epiphany.”

  “It wasn’t her. She was fine, attractive, great hair.” He pulled out a brown, shiny lock from his bedside table and showed it to her.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “She gave it to me willingly.”

  She sipped her hot coffee.

  “Lena called me to tell me about your affair,” he said.

  That didn’t surprise her. Lena had been mad.

  “I thought as much,” Iris said. “Did you at least pretend to be upset?”

  “Of course. She wants to meet me to tell me all about it.”

  She felt calm although it was clearly a problem that needed to be solved. Lena was part of her work life.

  “Maybe,” she said and turned to Rolf. “You could… I don’t know. Pay her some attention? So that we can end this.”

  “Really? What about being exclusive?”

  She stroked his chest. “You know you don’t really want that. Anyway, you think she’s hot, don’t you? And this one time, I don’t mind sharing.”

  “Why not?”

  She wasn’t sure exactly but most likely because there was someone else, a woman who made her feel something new entirely.

  “I stayed with her for too long,” Iris said. “She’s all yours.”

  He seemed to contemplate this. “She is a knock-out,” he said. “Want to fuck?”

  He looked so excited, she felt she needed to reward him for agreeing to her plan, and so she embraced him and fucked away, her closed eyes imagining someone else. A woman who quite possibly would break her heart.

  Chapter 30 – Erik

  March 2016

  When Erik returns home from Märta and Kent’s house, Rob is asleep on the couch. He opens a beer and sits down next to his mate. To clear his head. He wishes he could put electrodes on either side of his brain and flick a switch, go back in time. Then he would have been a better listener, more attentive; he would have been a musician, not just a wannabe doing gigs at near-empty bars. He would have kept his dick in his pants, been an amazing husband. Fatherhood should have made him grow up. He worked that out too late.

  “Isn’t life a bitch?” he says to Rob. “When you finally realise what you have, it’s gone?”

  Rob snores and Erik takes another sip. The beer goes down with ease. He gets another bottle, then another. He switches the TV on, zaps through the channels. It’s all so boring, so far removed from reality.

  Rob wakes up. “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”

  “Yeah.”

  He sits up, rubs his eyes and yawns.

  “So, what did he say?”

  “Not much.” Erik leans back. “Something about a bratty student.”

  “What about him and her? I mean Anna and Kent?”

  “Nah. Don’t think so.”

  “Look, I’ve been thinking,” Rob says.

 
“Really? Hurt your head?”

  Rob does an uppercut under Erik’s arm.

  “Careful!” He laughs. “No, but seriously. I could call Tina. Maybe tell her that Anna was cheating?”

  “Maybe.”

  Erik thinks. Actually, that might be a brilliant idea.

  “She can pass the info on to whoever is dealing with the case,” Rob says.

  “Won’t she say it came from you?”

  “She loves me, man. She’s been calling me and stuff. I’m sure she will be cool with it.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  Rob doesn’t even wait. He takes out his phone and calls Tina straight away.

  *

  The next day, Pernilla sends several explicit photos. Erik keeps the phone far away from the boys these days and clears it of anything inappropriate. Pernilla isn’t just satisfied with pictures. She also sends many, many messages:

  When can we meet up? Let’s have some fun. You and me = forever.

  He responds to zero of these. Although it makes it particularly awkward to drop the children at day care.

  Today, however, the boy with the denim jacket and untied shoes is outside the day care gate. He cycles towards them.

  “My dad used to have a jacket like yours,” Sebastian says.

  “Anna is my teacher,” he says. This time he speaks. “I hope she’s getting better.”

  “Thanks, pal. I appreciate it.”

  The boy nods his head and cycles off but Erik spots an opportunity.

  “Hey,” he calls after the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Da… David,” he stutters.

  “Can I ask you something?” Erik says. “Please.”

  The boy stops his bike and looks at them. His hair is dishevelled and although his jacket is still cool, Erik can now see that it’s in need of a wash, the denim no longer blue.

  Erik takes a leap of faith.

  “Is there a boy in Anna’s class called Adam?”

  Erik thinks of the emails from Black Adam. Unstable. Possessive. Direct. Does this boy know who Black Adam is?

  The boy looks puzzled. “Eh, no,” he says.