She knows she should be resting and not worry about mindless matters such as this but maybe something will trigger a recollection of an event that evening. Books always talk about an item or a phrase or a song bringing back a memory.
Seeing Iris made her happy. Nothing had changed. Her body might be bashed-up but her feelings are intact. Has she ever told Iris that she loves her? She can’t remember. Yet she ended it because she felt she owed it to Erik to stay. He took care of her, sat by her hospital bed, willing her to wake up. His mother told her on the phone, how he was there every day.
She clears the desk, organising everything into piles. It’s cleansing.
Then she makes the bed and lies on top of it. It feels odd, as if this has always been temporary. Her bedside table, a flea market bargain, is empty apart from her alarm clock. Erik’s is another story. It’s overflowing with glasses, beer bottles and crisp packets. She clears it all away, to make it look like an adult’s bedroom, and then she pulls out the drawer in his bedside table.
Ever since Anna returned home from the hospital, Erik has felt like a stranger to her. She remembers their wedding day but the man she has come home to seems different. It’s strange, to remember a day filled with laughter and love many years ago, but not being able to remember recent events. He just seems preoccupied. She remembers him as funny, charming and safe. What happened to him? Is it her fault? Has the incident crushed him? She wants to find proof of his love for her, love letters or photos of the two of them together during happy times. Even though she has decided to move on, she needs those full memories to tell her children one day.
There is a neat stack of papers in the drawer and she takes them out: birthday and anniversary cards, a notepad and a white envelope that has been torn open. All the cards are either from herself or the children. She opens all the cards to see what she’s written. Most of them are pre-printed with only a line by her: I love you, hugs from Anna. The letter is the life insurance paper they signed when they bought the house. It strikes her that Erik thought she might die. That must have been awful. Maybe she should go easy on him? He’s been through a lot.
She opens the notepad and finds a list of items with figures next to them. Deposit for an apartment… new guitar… leasing of a recording studio. The list is long and at the bottom, there is the total price tag, 2.5 million kronor. That’s the value of their house. The value of their life insurance. Has Erik already spent the money he would have earned from her death?
It feels like a stab wound. He’s already imagined a life without her.
It seems as if he has done it with ease as well, with enthusiasm even. He was planning to make his music dream come true, and leave this house for an apartment. How could he possibly think that would be better for the boys? Sebastian and Lukas don’t even seem to factor into the list. Also, if he is so happy to have a life without her, then why is he against a divorce? It doesn’t make sense. She looks at the list again. It’s like a shopping list for a new life and it stings.
She puts everything back in its place when a folded paper falls out of the pad. It’s a different colour to the rest. Pastel green, like the paper provided in the school library. She picks it up and unfolds it. It’s got printed text on it and as she starts to read it, she feels sickened.
ANNA IS CHEATING ON YOU WITH A WOMAN WHO LIVES OR WORKS IN HÅGARP. IF YOU WONDER HOW I KNOW THIS IT’S BECAUSE I SAW THEM TOGETHER, KISSING. NOT JUST IN A FRIENDLY WAY BUT PASSIONATELY, WITH TONGUES. YOU SHOULD LEAVE HER. SHE DOESN’T LOVE YOU. SHE WILL NEVER LOVE YOU AGAIN.
Her heart almost stops. Daniel went through with his threat. Erik knows about Iris. Or perhaps he didn’t believe the accusations? After all, he wouldn’t have known whom the note was from. It could have been from anybody; it could have been made up. Erik must have thought it was a lie. There was no proof. No pictures. He wouldn’t have paid any attention to it. Maybe he was going to show it to her but then she was assaulted and it was forgotten about?
What should she do now? Tell him that she found the note and explain to him what it was actually about? The very thought makes her sweat. She doesn’t feel strong enough; they might argue. She will leave it for now. Having made a decision makes her feel better but her hand is shaking as she closes the drawer.
*
That evening, Erik brings home pizza from the local pizzeria. They eat with their hands. The boys are bubbly but Anna finds it difficult to keep up. All the time, she keeps thinking of the note and the list. Calvin Klein underwear… Armani jeans… Trips to New York and Los Angeles – visit music studios. So much detail. And Daniel. He had purposefully tried to sabotage her marriage.
“Not hungry?”
“It’s probably the medication,” she says.
“So how was your day today?” Erik asks while chewing. He quickly polishes off a slice and picks up another one.
“Fine,” she says. “I tidied up a bit.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to keep busy.”
*
She sleeps badly. Every now and then she switches on a light and tries to read to avoid obsessing. She needs the hours to go faster until morning when the boys will be awake. They are the best remedy for negative thoughts. Her book lies open on her lap. She struggles to absorb the words, thoughts making their way through her head like it’s a complicated labyrinth.
When Erik comes down in the morning, he kisses her before heading into the kitchen. The boys jump on her bed. They cuddle and giggle and she feels joyful. There is so much love when they’re in the room.
“Time to eat,” Erik calls and they all walk in to find the breakfast table loaded with bread, butter, ham, cheese, sliced cucumber and tomatoes, eggs, cereal, milk, juice and coffee. There’s even mustard herring, her favourite.
“Wow,” Anna says. He has gone all out. She hadn’t expected a smörgåsbord. Is he trying to prove that he does love her and that he wants her to stay? Either way, she should enjoy this time with her family.
She drinks her coffee, careful not to spill. Her movements are still shaky plus Sebastian and Lukas are taking turns sitting on her lap, wriggling around as they stretch their little bodies to pick up a glass or a cereal bowl. The coffee tastes bitter. It’s like it’s corroding her tongue. Maybe she’s forgotten what it’s supposed to taste like? She tries to eat but half way through breakfast the sleepless night catches up with her. She’s so tired she can barely spread butter on the bread.
“Are you okay?” Erik asks.
“I slept really badly last night,” she explains.
“Do you want to lie down?”
She nods. Her eyelids are getting heavier. Erik helps her to the bed while the boys finish eating.
Erik tucks her in and when her head comfortably rests on the pillow and the duvet is pulled up to her chin, he leans in and whispers: “Why did you go through my bedside table?”
Her body stiffens within the sheets, her mind hazy. “I’m not…”
“That was very naughty,” he says, his hand bearing down on her, slapping her cheek.
The burning sensation momentarily clears the fog, bringing with it a memory.
*
She is outside the school building. It’s that night. Iris’s husband is there. There is something unnerving about him, not only because he has followed her twice but also because of his reputation and his obvious possessiveness of Iris. His being there also annoys her. Who does he think he is, demanding that she leave his wife alone, as if Iris doesn’t have a mind of her own? She feels manipulated but her conviction remains strong. Fortunately, Rolf eventually sees that and she manages to make him leave. She heads towards her car, to drive home to Erik. She is going to end her marriage.
Unlocking her car, she leans in to put her bag on the back seat. That’s when she hears footsteps on the gravel behind her. She prays it isn’t Rolf again. It’s pitch black in the parking lot and the encounter was unpleasant enough, leaving her feeling guilty and dirty.
“Hey, wa
it up.”
“Erik?”
She looks up, thankful that it’s him. But what is he doing there?
“Are the children okay?” she asks. She holds up her phone, looking for missed calls but finds none.
“They’re fine,” he says. “Sleeping.”
Incredulously, she asks him: “You left them home alone? They’re only five…”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“Couldn’t it wait until I got home? I’m just on my way now…”
“It couldn’t wait, Anna.” His face looks hard as he continues. “Because as usual I have no idea of knowing when you will be back, since you practically live at this fucking school. And I need to speak to you right now, away from the children because I can’t account for my actions.”
Her throat tightens.
“Okay, what’s up?” she says, trying to ignore the dread she feels. Does he know about Iris?
“I know,” he says.
His eyes are so intense, she takes a step back. With the car door supporting her, she asks: “What do you know?” Perhaps he saw Rolf and wondered who that was or maybe he has found out that Daniel is blackmailing her. Anything is possible. And anything is easier to talk about than Iris.
“I know about your affair.”
He takes a couple of steps towards her until they are only a few centimetres apart. She can smell his coffee breath.
“I’m really sorry,” she says. “I was going to talk to you about it this evening, I just didn’t know what to say or how to say it.” She buries her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he says. He moves even closer now, their chests touching. She feels the edge of the car door press into her back. He is upset, which is understandable. “There will have been a moment when you could have pulled back and said ‘you know what, I have a husband who I promised to love until death do us part’. But you didn’t.”
She looks up at him, at once resenting his threatening composure.
“Erik, I am leaving you,” she says, as calmly as possible.
“No, you’re not,” he says.
“Yes, I am.”
“And the children?”
“We can share custody. You’re a great dad.”
“I want full custody.”
“Erik, come on. We need to sit down and talk about this in a constructive manner.”
But he doesn’t back off. “I’ve been your puppet ever since we moved here,” he says. “While you have dedicated yourself to the youth of Mörna, I have put my own life on hold.”
“Erik, no one has asked you to do that.”
“And now you do this to me? With a woman?” He spits the word out and she feels a need to defend her relationship.
“At first we were just friends,” she tells him. “But then it became something else.”
“When people find out I will be a laughing stock!”
“I’m sorry, Erik. I love her.”
That’s when the first blow hits her.
She staggers backwards, her back ramming into the car door. There is no sense of time. Instinctively, she puts her hand to her head. There’s blood on her fingers. She stares at the dripping redness, amazed. Erik did this? Bewildered, she looks around. Did anyone see? She hopes not, that would be embarrassing: teacher beaten by her husband.
She looks at Erik, expecting to see remorse but his fists are still tight; the vicious stare alarming her. She’s about to speak when another blow strikes her head. Her back bangs into the door again and this time she falls over. She immediately tries to get back up but a boot explodes into her stomach and she screams, or at least she thinks she does; nothing comes out as she gasps. She needs to make him stop.
“Erik.” She strains to find her voice. “Please… don’t!”
She cries and she senses him getting down on his knees next to her. He brushes the hair out of her face and wipes her tears, almost gently. She relaxes. This was obviously just a freak accident, his temper getting the better of him.
He helps her up, holding her arm just above the elbow.
“Thank you…”
“So, you’re not going to see her again?” he asks.
It feels more like an order than a question.
“Eh…” Not seeing Iris is not an option but maybe she needs to make him think that. It’s just… it’s ridiculous. This is Erik, her husband for over six years. She knows him; she must be able to reason with him.
“Erik, we need to go home.” She catches her breath. “To talk, properly.”
“I’m sorry?” he says. “I didn’t hear you? Are you going to stop seeing her?”
His tone frightens her.
“Maybe it was a rash decision,” she agrees. “I will rethink it.”
He laughs.
“Are you saying that because I just punched you in the face?”
He’s so obnoxious, and no matter how scary this side of him is, the anger bursts out of her, the words flying out of her mouth.
“Who the hell do you think you are, using violence to control me?”
He grabs her belt and pulls her to him.
“No need for violence,” he says. “You need sex? Then how about with me, right now?”
He unzips her fly.
“Erik, please don’t,” she says, trying to fight him off but he’s wearing a big hoody and gloves, she can’t scratch him or really hurt him. Instead she pleads with him. “It’s me. Your wife.”
“Apparently not anymore.”
Now he grabs her by the lapels of her coat, and pulls her face so close, spit hits her lips. “You fucking disgust me,” he says and then he rams her head into the door. Over and over, she feels the thunderous pain. She tries to fight back but he’s stronger, and eventually she realises that no matter what she says or does, he will keep going.
She feels dizzy, her eyes won’t focus; they’re getting increasingly damp and sticky and she wipes them, only to see her hands covered in even more red. It looks like paint.
“I have nothing!” Erik shouts at her. “You have taken everything from me!”
Another boot and it sounds like something breaks. She hopes it’s a tree branch and not her ribs but the agony is unbearable. Despite the pain, she clambers to her hands and knees. A blur of movement and her head smashes against cold metal. Then everything turns eerily quiet.
Chapter 80 – Iris
Iris has spent the morning in bed. There is no longer a library to go to. Lena has stopped paying the rent and a group of men have cleared out the books to give them to charity. Luckily, Iris managed to save her own private English book library before Lena pettily changed the locks. Iris bought those books with her own money so they are rightfully hers, and she will keep fighting for them to be translated into Swedish. Perhaps this will be her new sole focus?
When Rolf makes his daily morning phone call, he enquires about Anna. She’s still upset with him but she recognises that he’s trying.
“There has been no contact,” she admits.
“I’m not sure if I should say this Iris, but I will: I told you so.”
“I’m not in the mood, Rolf.”
“Seriously? I’m only joking,” he says. “Well, half-joking anyway.” He laughs. “Have a sense of humour!”
“I’m just…” She can’t do this. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“To be honest, I don’t either. I’m sick of Anna. If you work it out, great, let me know. If you don’t, even better.”
“Rolf!”
This was a mistake, but then she thinks of Karin. She can’t alienate herself, and so she moves the conversation along to their daughter.
“Have you spoken to Karin?”
“Yes, she has a fiancé.”
“I know,” she says, pleased that Karin chose to tell her first.
“You do? But we haven’t even met him? Well… I guess I hadn’t met your mum when I popped the question either.”
&nb
sp; “We have to let her go,” Iris says.
Rolf sighs. “So, what’s going on this weekend? Should we go and see your delightfully demented father?”
She’s grateful that she won’t have to deal with her father on her own, but she doesn’t feel ready for a road trip with Rolf. Not yet.
“Not this weekend, Rolf. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
“No problem. Anyway, I have plans so I gotta go… I haven’t been laid in a while.”
She suspects he wants to make her jealous but he should know better.
“What about that single mother who called me?” she says.
“Actually… her son was brought in by the police because of your teacher friend. He was apparently her student.”
The anger comes back.
“I swear I had no idea about his connection to her,” Rolf assures her.
Is he telling the truth? Rolf does spread his oats far and wide with little thought for anything but his own satisfaction. Unless… could he have been that calculating? She’s not sure anymore.
She opts for silence, not wanting to be pulled into his world.
“I ended it anyway,” he tells her. “It’s time for a fresh start.”
She couldn’t agree more and hangs up, feeling a new fire inside of her. There is no longer a ‘Rolf and Iris’. It’s only ‘Iris’ now. She’s strong and stubborn and she won’t go down without a fight.
She drags herself out of bed, showers and puts clothes on. Dressed in the same outfit she wore the day Anna entered her library for the first time, she applies her signature red lipstick, and reviews the result in the mirror. What does Anna see when she looks at her? Does she see an older woman or does she see a contemporary? Does she see someone who’s in love with her or who is preying on her? Does she see a woman or a librarian? A woman to be taken seriously or a hippie? She kisses herself in the mirror.
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