Sacrifice

by Karin Alvtegen

  There was a hint of something in his voice, and she knew at once that what she had said was just making the whole thing worse. She had failed him by not calling and sharing her day with him, preferring to handle it on her own.

  As usual.

  She was going to wreck this too. Her cowardice would once again claim its due and rob her of what she wanted most of all. The only thing he required was honesty, and that was the one thing she was incapable of giving. Her secret would fester like a sore, keeping them apart. It was actually within reach, the dream that she had given up all hope of realising. No success in the world could measure up to the strength his love could give her. And yet it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t help the fact that she was not a heroic person, but at least she could muster the courage required to explain things to him.

  As long as we’re honest then neither of us has to be afraid. Don’t you think?

  How she had always wished for this, to stop being afraid.

  She knew that she had to tell him, and what in the name of honesty did she have to lose? She would lose him in the end if she kept silent.

  She had to take the risk.

  But not now, not here on the phone. She wanted to be able to see his face.

  ‘I’ll tell you when I come home. And Thomas …’

  In any case she had to confess to the one other thing that was so hard to say.

  ‘… I love you.’

  Friday and Saturday passed. Her decision to tell him was still firm and there was a sense of peace in having made up her mind. The intense pace of the course also helped to distract her. On Saturday evening, after too many lectures about visions and goals, effective delegation, and how to motivate your staff and create a positive work atmosphere, she sat down at one of the beautifully set tables in the dining room. Until then she had sat with Åse at every meal, and they had developed a real friendship. To say that Åse was a fresh breeze was an understatement; she was more like a hurricane that passed by each time you were near her. Monika liked her a lot, and she had already thought about inviting her and Börje to dinner sometime. She and Thomas. A couples’ dinner.

  If he stayed.

  ‘Is this seat free?’

  She turned round and there stood Mattias. Until now they had only exchanged a few words; without thinking why she had chosen not to sit at his table at the previous meals.

  ‘Of course.’

  But she really wasn’t happy about it.

  ‘Your name is Monika, isn’t it?’

  She nodded and he pulled out the chair and sat down. On her right, where he had sat before.

  On each plate was an intricately folded linen napkin, and Mattias studied the artistry for a moment before he demolished it and put it on his lap.

  ‘That was a very strong presentation you gave. I haven’t had a chance to tell you until now.’

  Straight to the point. She had seen it before. People who had lived through great crises and been strengthened by their experience did not stoop to traditional polite nonsense. Wham!, right to the heart of the matter. Whether the people around them were ready or not.

  ‘Thanks, yours was too.’

  Åse came to her rescue. With her usual commotion she sat down in the chair across from Monika and immediately unfolded her napkin without so much as glancing at the artistic folds.

  ‘God, I’m starving!’

  With a scowl she read the little menu that decorated each bread plate.

  ‘Lax carpaccio? You can starve to death eating that.’

  Mattias laughed. Monika was uncomfortably aware of his presence. His entire existence was one big reminder.

  Several other people sat down at their table, and soon all eight seats were taken. The mood became intimate. Forcing them all to reveal something about themselves during the introductions had been a brilliant move on the part of the course leader. After that, no concerns had seemed too private to share with one another. Monika already knew more about some of the participants than she knew about her co-workers. But they didn’t know as much about her. And she wondered whether more people besides herself had altered the truth a bit when they had had the chance.

  ‘How is your wife doing now, by the way?’

  Åse was the one asking, and she directed her question to Mattias. She had long since wolfed down her lax carpaccio and was now spreading butter on a piece of crispbread while she waited for the entrée.

  ‘Oh, she’s doing quite well, actually. She’ll never be completely the same, but enough so that everything functions. And she doesn’t have pain anymore. If you met her and didn’t know otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to tell. It’s more things like getting sore if she sits too long and stuff like that.’

  ‘And your daughter, how old is she?’

  Mattias lit up when she was mentioned.

  ‘Daniella will be one in three weeks. It’s strange, becoming a father. Being away from home for a few days has become really tough all of a sudden. A lot of things happen while you’re gone.’

  There was nodding and agreement all round the table, because everyone seemed to have small children who changed quite a bit in just a few days. Only Åse felt otherwise.

  ‘I thought it was really great to get away from home for a while now and then when my kids were little. Just to be allowed to sleep through a whole night! But now that they’re grown, I miss the sound of those little feet in the night.’

  Åse had told Monika about her kids. A grown son and daughter who were the pride of her existence. The son had been born with no arms, and she had described her conflicting feelings after the delivery, and then her joy at the wonderful ability of children to adapt to any situation. Now that son had given her two grandchildren.

  Monika took a gulp of wine and leaned back. She was missing Thomas. She shut off the noise around her and savoured the feeling. It was great to have a reason to feel this kind of longing. Her whole life she had hoped that someday she would have a chance to yearn like this. And now she finally did.

  She suddenly realised that Mattias was talking to her.

  ‘Excuse me, what did you say? I was somewhere else there.’

  He smiled.

  ‘I could see that. But it looked like it was a nice place, so don’t let me disturb you.’

  As if he hadn’t disturbed her enough already. She felt instinctively that she didn’t want to talk to him, but on the other hand she didn’t want to seem uninteresting. If she were forced into a conversation now, it would have to be about something neutral.

  ‘What kind of work do you do?’

  There was almost a cloud of dust around that question, it was so boring, but Mattias wasn’t about to be scared off.

  ‘I’ve just started a new job as head of personnel for a large sporting goods store, not one of those big chains but an independent one. I’ve never been a boss before, so that’s why they sent me to this course.’

  He grinned.

  ‘Not that I think it was actually necessary, since we only have six employees, but the owner of the store is a friend of mine, and he knows how bad our finances have been since Pernilla’s accident. You know, the part I mentioned about not having any health insurance.’

  She wanted to say something appropriate about how happy she was for his sake, but she wasn’t going to lie anymore. Instead she said something about insurance companies in general, and he picked up on it right away and they were off on an interesting diversion. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she had to admit that he was a very entertaining table companion, and for the next hour she had a great time, and she even laughed a few times. And how he talked about his wife! So full of love and loyalty – not ten minutes would pass during the conversation before he would mention her again. Quite naturally, she supposed, since she was part of his life. Monika wondered whether Thomas would ever talk about her in this way – whether she would ever be such a central part of his life, so natural and self-evident. Mattias told her about the difficult years after the accident, how it
had brought them even closer together. With a laugh he told about how they tried to fill the emptiness left by their great passion for diving. How they tried one hobby after another, but since they couldn’t afford to spend any money the choice was rather limited. He laughed the most when he described their brave attempts to take up birdwatching. How, after a day in a bush with only a magpie and two wagtails on their list, they were forced to admit that telling the anecdote would probably be more fun than ever doing it again. Later, in library books, Pernilla began reading about the history of Sweden, and after a while her interest in the topic became so intense that he began to think it was becoming obsessive. With a smile he confessed that she had also become a little too interested in Gustav II Adolf and the rest of those historical characters, but that it was probably all right because at least it didn’t strain her back. And he told her how happy he was about his new job, which would finally make manageable the debts incurred during Pernilla’s rehabilitation, not to mention the ongoing expense for all the chiropractors and masseuses that were necessary to alleviate her pain.

  Someone clinking a glass brought all the conversations to a halt, and all eyes scanned the room for the source of the sound. The course leader had stood up.

  ‘I just wanted to check that we’re all gathered together. I have a question I’d like you to think about, and that is whether you might consider extending the day by two hours tomorrow so that we can squeeze in all the scheduled events. I’m afraid that, otherwise, we would have to cancel the stress management lecture.’

  According to the programme the course was supposed to be over at lunchtime. She had promised to pick up her mother at three and drive her to the cemetery.

  ‘All those who would consider staying please raise your hands.’

  Almost everyone’s hand went up. Åse’s too. The only other person besides Monika at their table who didn’t was Mattias. Åse noticed, remembered her responsibility as driver and lowered her hand.

  ‘So you’re in a hurry to get home?’

  Monika didn’t have a chance to reply before the course leader continued.

  ‘It looks as though most of you don’t mind staying, so that’s what we’ll do. As for now, I wish you a pleasant dinner.’

  Åse had a frown on her face.

  ‘Wait, I just have to check on something.’

  She got up and left without further explanation. Mattias drank the last dregs from his glass.

  ‘I’d like to skip the stress management and have a few free hours at home instead. I know the others I drove up here with are also in a hurry to get home.’

  So he had shared a lift too. He must belong to the group that Åse had told her about when they first started their trip on Thursday morning. Monika decided that it was the first and last time she wouldn’t bring her own car. If she ever drove to a course again, which under the present circumstances she strongly doubted, she would make sure she wasn’t dependent on someone else. It was out of the question to call her mother and postpone the visit to the cemetery. She had already used up what little grace she had left.

  Åse came back and sat down in her chair.

  ‘No, it didn’t work out, their car was already full. I thought you might be able to ride with the others from the city if you were in a hurry, because they’re leaving early too. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll skip the stress management too.’

  That part of the course was the reason Åse had come in the first place, and now it was Monika’s fault that she would miss it. How she hated these eternal visits to the grave. She wished she could have told Åse that it didn’t matter; that she would stay the extra two hours if it was important. But she knew what that would mean. Weeks of indignant silence as her mother managed to amplify Monika’s guilty conscience, wordlessly accusing her of always thinking of herself first. And when her mother came so close to the truth, life was intolerable. Her only way out was to beg and cajole her to get things back to normal. She wouldn’t be able to manage that now. Not now that she had decided to risk confessing everything to Thomas. It was either-or.

  ‘I’d love to be able to say that I can stay, but I have to make a house call on a patient tomorrow afternoon.’

  She felt herself blushing and pretended that she’d got something in her eye to have a chance to hide her face. She sat there on her chair, lying, and once more it was clear. She was incapable of making sacrifices, while Mattias never hesitated.

  ‘If you’re in such a rush to get home, you can take my place in the other car, so Åse can stay for the stress management. I can’t imagine that Daniella will start talking precisely before four o’clock.’

  It was hard to acknowledge the gratitude she felt.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. I just wanted to go home, but it was nothing important. I’ll stay and ride back with Åse.’

  And so the decision was made.

  Nothing had changed around them. Everything looked just as it had the moment before. Sometimes it’s quite astounding how a crossroads that will change a person’s life isn’t noticed at the moment it appears.

  10

  She had stayed in bed for two days. Not for a second had she dared to sleep. The only times she managed to get up were to empty her bladder and open the balcony door for Saba. All her energy went into keeping the thoughts at bay. Like malicious insects they invaded her reality, and she flailed wildly to keep them off her. Vanja’s memories and insinuations forced her again and again to the periphery of the world she had made her own. A flat of sixty-eight square metres or an illuminated circle of light with a sharply defined perimeter. A limited area formed by the interpretation of the truth that was tolerable. Out there everything was white. A white void where nothing existed. But now she found herself time after time standing at the very edge of the illuminated circle facing the whiteness, and suddenly she realised that something was moving out there, that there was more. In all that whiteness outside it was suddenly possible to discern shadows. Shadows of something that would not quite materialise but was coming closer and closer.

  Vanja’s letter was burned to ashes on the balcony. And yet it hadn’t helped. Vanja was a mentally deranged woman who recounted events that had never happened, and distorted beyond recognition what might have occurred. All the other thoughts and speculations that had been recounted to Maj-Britt were so repulsive that she wished she had never read them. Even though her own relationship with God had been fairly strained, even non-existent, she definitely did not intend to blaspheme. And that was precisely what Vanja did! She blasphemed so terribly, and since Maj-Britt had read her words, she was guilty too. She had to get Vanja to stop sending those letters. Not even the consolation of stuffing something in her mouth remained as an escape for her. And during the past week that pain in her lower back had been so intense that it made her feel nauseous.

  It was two days since she fell out of bed and Ellinor had rescued her. Today Ellinor would be coming back. Maj-Britt had decided during the night what she would do to be rid of her obligation and the hint of atonement that had resulted. She had already undressed. In only her underwear she now lay waiting for Ellinor to arrive. Once Ellinor saw her disgusting body she would back away in repugnance and lose her power. She would be ashamed of her reaction, which she would not be able to hide, and thus Maj-Britt would regain the advantage and her right to display her loathing.

  Writing paper and a pen had been lying on the night-stand for twenty-four hours, right next to the note with Ellinor’s mobile number, and no matter how much it went against the grain, she was forced to admit that it felt good to have that note lying there. If anything should happen again.

  She detested that feeling.

  The fact that Ellinor could offer her something that she didn’t want.

  Four crumpled-up attempts at letters lay on the floor. Saba had sniffed them curiously a couple of times before realising how pathetic they were and losing interest. Her hatred for Vanja was so strong that the words would
n’t come. What she had done was unforgivable. To crash into a world where she was not welcome and turn everything upside down. To lay claim to someone’s time as if her warped opinions were worth any consideration whatsoever.

  Maj-Britt reached once again for the pen and began to write:

  Vanja,

  I am writing this letter with a single purpose: to persuade you not to write letters to me!

  That was good. That’s how she should start. Actually, she also wanted to stop there, since that was the only thing she wanted to say.

  Your speculations and thoughts do not interest me; on the contrary, I find them extremely repulsive.

  She crossed out everything and wrote instead:

  What you think and believe is your private business, but I would be grateful to be spared from sharing it. The fact that you presume the right to condemn my parents’ faith, only then to surrender to something resembling a home-made heathen belief upsets me, to tell you the truth, and in view of …

  * * *

  ‘Hello!’

  Maj-Britt quickly laid the pen and paper on the nightstand and pulled back the bed covers. She heard Ellinor hanging up her jacket on one of the hangers in the hall.

  ‘It’s only me!’

  With great effort Saba managed to clamber over the edge of the basket to go and meet Ellinor. Maj-Britt heard the shopping bags being put down in the kitchen and Ellinor approaching the bedroom. Her heart beat faster, not from nervousness but from anticipation. For the first time in ages she felt calm, absolutely in a superior position. Her disgusting body was also her most powerful weapon. To expose it was to throw the viewer off balance.

  Ellinor stopped short in the doorway. She seemed to want to say something but the words got stuck inside her lips. For a second Maj-Britt thought she had succeeded. For a second she managed to feel satisfied, but then Ellinor opened her mouth.