“That author might have liked me for buying thirty books,” Anna said. “But did you like, like her?”
She realised she sounded like a twelve-year-old as the shape of Iris’s face changed.
“Oh,” Iris said. “No. I just thought she was nice.” Her words were stale, which made Anna feel insecure. Had she made a mistake talking about this?
“There’s just so much I don’t know about you,” Anna said honestly. “You’re not monogamous, remember. Would you want to…” do it with her?
“Anna.” Iris placed her hands over Anna’s across the table. “I already told you it’s different now that I have met you.”
Her face softened, her words tinged with colour.
“But can you just change like that?” Anna said. “Overnight?” Surely she didn’t have that effect on people; that they could just alter their way of living?
“Anna,” Iris said and Anna involuntarily pulled her hands back. The way Iris said her name reminded her of Daniel and he was the last person she wanted to think about. Iris didn’t look offended however. She just leaned back in her chair and said: “I love you.”
Love. That word, which Anna hadn’t repeated back. She looked at the white tablecloth, the uneven threads, the faint stains of spilt red wine. Iris waited. Anna had to give her credit for that. There was no pushing her up against a wall and making her say or do anything. Anna looked up.
“Iris, I don’t know how I feel right now.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’m still leaving Rolf.” She paused. “Not for you. For me.”
She seemed to leave space for Anna to inject her thoughts on the matter but she had nothing to say.
“I do adore him,” Iris said. “I think he’s brilliant in so many ways, but we should be friends, not lovers anymore. Lately, I have found myself switching off. I think he’s sensed that because he’s become… not suffocating exactly, but close enough for someone like Rolf. He’s never been like that before and I can feel myself being tied down.”
“I have children,” Anna said. “Responsibilities.”
“You do. I don’t know how we would work it out but I don’t feel like that’s important right now. We wouldn’t even have to live together.” Iris leaned forward and Anna found herself stretching her hands out once again. She wanted to touch Iris, to feel the comfort of her warm skin. “But we can’t stay married, that wouldn’t be fair,” Iris said.
“You have slept with married women before.”
Iris nodded. “I have, but affairs are brief,” she said. “This isn’t.”
Their eyes met, their hands touching. This wasn’t brief. Anna affectionately squeezed Iris’s fingers, trying to convey her own feelings, the outside world no longer existing.
“Are you ready to order?” A waiter stood next to their table, pen and pad in hand.
They simultaneously turned to him and Anna was about to say “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” when Iris patiently said “I’ll have the salmon. What about you, Anna?”
*
They shared a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and left the relationship and serious questions be. They spoke about books and holidays and dreams, realising they were both lucky enough to have jobs they loved.
“Whenever I have a class coming in to the library, I always feel such admiration for the teacher. How do you cope with so many of them, day in and day out?”
For the hundredth time in her life, Anna found herself explaining that: “Discipline should be dealt with at home.” Although she quickly added that her students, for the most part, were well behaved.
Again, Daniel came to mind but she didn’t want to tell Iris about him. Two more years and he would either be working or moving on to university, which at the moment didn’t seem likely. He was clever, though. That was the frustrating part.
When they walked back to the hotel, Anna carried a plastic bag in one hand, the other hand dangling suggestively close to Iris’s. She wanted so badly to hold it, but what if they bumped into someone they knew?
Would it always be like that, if they were an actual couple? Or was it acceptable if it was out in the open?
Just then, Iris grabbed hold of Anna’s hand and pulled her into an alleyway. A dark, moist wall behind her back, Iris’s lips on hers. Anna giggled, the bags falling to the ground; their hands caressing, stroking, loving. She didn’t care that it was cold. Anna had dreamt of being taken like this, with such passionate unexpected force, but she had never thought it would happen in this lifetime. She no longer cared if anyone passed by or if she would know someone here. It wasn’t the alcohol, it was Iris, the way she made her feel, like fire on her skin, inside her heart, a longing to stay with this woman at any cost.
Iris hoisted up Anna’s dress, her hands expertly inside her knickers, finding a sensitive spot, circulating, applying the right amount of pressure. Anna moaned into Iris’s ear as she neared a climax. She wanted to reciprocate but her limbs went numb with pleasure and any feeble attempts to satisfy Iris were brushed aside. “Later,” Iris said. “Later.”
She came hard into Iris’s hand. Shocked by the strength of her orgasm and slightly embarrassed by the loud sound coming out of her mouth, she adjusted her knickers and pulled her dress down.
“That was incredible,” Iris said, kissing her. A soft, intense meeting of lips. “You’re so hot.”
Anna laughed nervously.
“You make me feel hot,” she admitted.
They held hands the rest of the way, and once they arrived at the hotel, there were no inhibitions. If she could have an orgasm in a public, albeit hidden, place, then she could do anything.
Clothes fell to the floor, the covers of the bed pulled away. Limbs stretched, backs arched, wet lips searched and discovered new territory. Iris’s body became her own; her erogenous zones Anna’s, her nakedness less awkward. Lights on or off, it didn’t matter.
“Who are you?” Iris asked at one point, laughter bubbling out of her.
Anna laughed as well. This was new. Laughing while having sex. Who knew that could be so good? So comfortable.
No more shyness, no more self-consciousness. Anna could feel how much Iris worshipped her body, including her dimpled behind, round thighs and chunky toes. In fact Iris sucked them. One by one, she pulled Anna’s toes into her mouth, her warm tongue circling, causing a tickling but sensual feeling that made her tingle between her thighs.
Iris had taught Anna to tease and delay and to avoid reaching an early climax. This ran through their every meeting, whether it was sexual or not. They seemed to linger in every moment, making the most of it.
Feeling adventurous, Anna pushed Iris off of her and pinned her to the bed.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said laughing, and she could tell Iris was excited by the changing roles.
Anna separated Iris’s slender legs and for a few seconds, she just watched Iris: her perky breasts, hardened nipples, slim waist and tanned arms that were now resting comfortably under her head. Her lipstick had worn off but her eyes were like emeralds, emphasised by the black eyeliner.
“Your body is so young,” Anna said. “What is your secret?”
“Lots of sex,” Iris said, grinning.
It was a joy to be with Iris. She made Anna feel as if she had the whole future ahead of her. Iris tried to sit up to kiss Anna, but Anna pinned her down again.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with you,” she said and this time she acted quickly, opening up Iris’s sex, resting her tongue in the opening, boring it into Iris. She let out a gasp and grabbed hold of Anna’s hair. Anna’s tongue slipped out, over Iris’s parted lips, wetting them. The satisfaction Anna felt from Iris’s moans egged her on. I can do more. She had looked at handbooks online that freely showed sample pages and felt spurred on.
Kissing a woman between her legs was like kissing her mouth. Anna’s tongue licked and circled and sucked, her hand simultaneously moving up to Iris’s breast, tugging at the nipple.
&nbs
p; “Oh my God,” Iris said, her breath uneven, her hips rocking back and forth.
Anna lifted her head up briefly. She wanted to witness Iris’s pleasure, her relaxed face, widened nostrils, her closed but fluttering eyelids. It was exhilarating to know she could stimulate Iris this way. Encouraged, she placed two fingers on Iris’s dark, trimmed pubic hair, moving it up and out of the way, stretching the skin to expose the vulva. A bare rose, pink petals blooming just for her. Her tongue ran over the delicate lining, the skin smooth and silky. Iris’s moans intensified. With growing comfort, Anna let her right-hand index finger play with Iris for a while, slipping it over the wetness, licking and rubbing, before slipping it inside of her. She was warm and tight, and Anna was turned on by the confined wetness. She pushed another finger in, slipping them both in and out, watching Iris’s body react, the contracting stomach muscles, the upper body almost floating over the bed, the spread legs taut and toes stretched out. It was time to let her come and Anna moved the fingers in and out faster, her eager tongue kissing Iris’s vaginal lips. She screamed out her orgasm, sweat (or was it tears?) on her face.
Afterwards, Iris lay motionless, not speaking a word and having felt on top of the world for making Iris’s release so intense, Anna now felt concerned. Had she done it all wrong?
Then Iris spoke. “That was… a-m-azing,” she said.
She opened her eyes and pulled Anna down next to her, kissing her gently but passionately. At once, Anna felt both exhausted and thrilled. She rested her hand on Iris, caressing her stomach. I think I am falling in love with you.
They lay in each other’s arms for a long time, Iris’s heartbeat comforting, and once they had recovered, they started over. Their bodies moved from one position to the next, the orgasms weaved into one another. With plenty of playfulness and versatility, Anna’s body tried new positions: she was on her back, on top of Iris, sitting up, on her knees, in front of, behind.
The minutes went past, the hours; darkness became day, daylight turned to night. They talked, they made love, they showered, they talked some more, they ate, made love again, came and went.
When it was time to go home, Anna had decided. She would need to have a difficult conversation with Erik.
Chapter 51 – Erik
April 2016
It’s Walpurgis Night, marking the arrival of spring, and Erik’s happy to have Mum back, if only she didn’t insist they attend the annual bonfire by the beach. He doesn’t want to. Having to see Anna’s colleagues, students and their families, Sebastian and Lukas’s friends with parents… what if everyone knows about Pernilla? Then he won’t just be a sad fuck whose wife is in a coma, he will be a fucking scumbag.
“Don’t be selfish,” Mum says. “Think of the children.”
Her words are sharp and non-compromising and he wants to please her, he just can’t face the humiliation.
“I am thinking of the children,” he says. “I don’t want to embarrass them.”
“Erik, I have just had enough!”
He shrinks in his seat as he watches her eyes widen, the way they did when he was young and got into trouble.
“You’re a grown man,” she continues. “I have been quiet long enough. Anna has been more of a mother to you than a wife.” She pauses as if centring herself. “Tradition is important. You grew up in a small town so you should know.”
“My wife wasn’t in a coma then, was she?”
“And your girlfriend wasn’t pregnant, you mean?”
She twists the dagger in his chest.
When he spoke to the police they didn’t mention Pernilla and that freaks him out. After first calling him to request that he comes down to the police station, they cancelled the meeting because of ‘other priorities’. Mum reads out loud from the paper every morning, highlighting more severe crimes, which obviously are more urgent than a small-town teacher who is still alive and has no obvious threat to her. When they finally managed to fit him in, it was a brief meeting, the questions hitting him one after the other.
“You haven’t come across her phone or her laptop?”
“No.” He was too annoyed with them to admit that he had the laptop, and too much time seemed to have passed. What if he got into trouble?
“How long did Rob stay at your house that night? Did you watch anything particular on TV, what did you talk about?”
He tried to answer as best he could.
Then the rough punch: “Were you faithful to Anna?”
“Yes,” he said.
He had really thought about it, should the subject arise. If they were going to accuse him of sleeping with someone, he was going to confess, but in the seriousness of the moment, he just couldn’t. After all, what proof did they have, other than Pernilla’s words? Even if they found the taxi driver, he didn’t see them have sex. Quite possibly, the baby wasn’t even his. Pernilla most probably slept around. He decided that it was his word against hers.
“Do you have any reason to believe that Anna might not have been faithful to you?”
There it was, finally. “No,” he said, because it couldn’t come from him. Someone else needed to verify it. Not him.
“Did she mention any particular students?”
“No.” She really didn’t.
“Did any students call the house? Was anyone upset with her?”
“Plenty of people called her and who knows if anyone was upset? She was pretty strict.”
It was an unsatisfying interview and he really wishes they had asked him about Pernilla straight out. Why play games with him? Are they waiting for a DNA test to see if the baby is his?
The situation is too stressful and he just can’t handle Mum’s judgement right now.
“I’m not the only one,” he tells her. “Anna was also cheating.”
“No wonder. A woman needs a man, not a boy.”
He can’t believe it. “You’re defending her?”
“It’s time to grow up and start taking responsibility. We’re going tonight, whether you like it or not. Otherwise I’m going back home.”
Their eyes duel for a few seconds but he knows he can’t win.
“Fine,” he sulks and heads up to shower.
“Great,” Mum says from the bottom of the stairs, back to her old spirited tone of voice. “We leave in ten minutes.”
*
They walk even though he would have preferred to drive to avoid the customary greetings along the way. The town’s population turns into pilgrims, walking in clusters, a strong current pulling them down to the sea. He puts his head down and pretends to be in an animated conversation with Mum but she greets every person they walk past, even though she barely knows anyone. Sebastian and Lukas wave to their friends and Erik is forced to raise his hand a few times.
Luckily, it only takes five minutes and when they arrive they stay at the outskirts of the crowd. In the middle is a pile of trees and bushes that the community has scraped together from their gardens and outer farms. There is even the odd Christmas tree, dry and ready to be burnt to a crisp.
“Can we go and play?”
He hesitates, Anna wouldn’t have been comfortable with the boys roaming around unattended.
“I’m not sure,” he begins.
“Of course you can,” Mum interrupts and turns to him. “Let them have some fun.”
“Mum, the times have changed.” What was it Anna used to say? “It’s not like when I was young.” They could be kidnapped.
He used to accuse Anna of being paranoid but now that Mum is the liberal one, the shoe has ended up on the other foot.
“It’s about to start,” Mum says and the matter is dismissed.
He looks to the stage, a temporary wooden platform, where the traditional speech will be held and everyone quiets down: no more small talk about the latest house project or school gossip.
A man in a ponytail and a ridiculous moustache starts to talk into a microphone. He welcomes the spring and launches into the history of the bonfire, the farm
ers letting the animals out this time of the year and that the fires were used to scare vultures away. He talks about the intricate hide of an animal and of blood. Blood? Erik looks at Mum and whispers:
“What is this rubbish?”
“He’s an artist, Erik. I read about him in the paper. He’s famous – or infamous is perhaps a better word – for adding blood to his artwork.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Language.”
“The boys can’t even hear me!”
Sebastian and Lukas have found a couple of friends and are playing nearby. They seem to be having fun, which makes him feel slightly better.
On stage, the artist drones on about individuality instead of spring and his eyes wander, bored. He scans the crowd, wondering if Pernilla is there. He’s going to have to talk to her at some point. Mum has already discussed it with him.
“Don’t ask her if the baby is yours,” was her advice.
“Why the hell not? Maybe she has had multiple one-night stands?”
“Erik, you will come across as a heartless man.”
“Who cares?”
But he realises he needs to think about what he’s going to say. At the moment, anger and the notion of child support payments are preventing him from thinking clearly.
People start to clap as the speech finally comes to an end, and two men begin the job of lighting the fire.
“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Mum says.
Erik wishes it would. Then the fire would be out and they could head home. A couple of people have cracked open cans of beers and his taste buds are longing for one.
“Mum, did you bring…”
“Hi there,” someone says and stretches out a hand. It’s the artist who did the speech. “You must be Erik?”
“Yes…” He better not be related to Pernilla. Instinctively, Erik takes a step back. “Do I know you?”
Behind them, the fire grows, the heat tickling his back.
“I’m really sorry about your wife. How is she?”
“She’s been better.” He can’t help it, he gets defensive. Who the hell is this dude, turning up asking about his wife?
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