Let the Old Dreams Die (44 page)

Flora took two bottles of Tuborg out of the fridge and sat down opposite him. They both took a swig in silence. Kalle nodded appreciatively at the bottle, then looked around and asked, ‘Have you lived here long?’

‘No. Listen, there’s something I need to say to you straightaway. It’s a bit hard to put into words, but…’

Flora clamped her lips together, thought for a moment. Kalle
leaned forward a fraction, expecting the worst. She had a boyfriend, she wanted him to sell drugs, all kinds of unimaginable things. Flora smoothed her hand across the table and said, ‘The thing is…you don’t need to worry so much about what you say. What impression you’re making. I already know you’re…a good person.’

‘In what way?’

Flora smiled and looked shyly into his eyes for a second, then went on, ‘In a very fundamental way. I know you and I fit together. And I know I want to be with you.’

Kalle sat there with his mouth open. Then he took a couple of deep swigs of his beer, put the bottle down and said, ‘Wow.’

Flora nodded.

‘I know this sounds…but I have to say it. I have a kind of… ability. To read people. It’s not the usual kind of thing, but…I know a lot of stuff about you, for example. And it would be wrong not to tell you.’

Kalle barely heard any of this; he was still digesting the fact that he was a good person, that she wanted to be with him. That was the most important part, after all. He nodded slowly and said, ‘Yes…’

Flora frowned. ‘You don’t think this is weird?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know. What did you say?’

‘That I know stuff. About you.’

‘Like what?’

Flora looked into his eyes; Kalle straightened up on his chair, pushing back a couple of dreadlocks that had fallen over his face. He couldn’t decide what colour her eyes were; they shifted between green and brown like the forest in early autumn.

‘Someone died,’ said Flora. ‘Someone really important to you. You haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. You play the drums. You haven’t got a home.’

‘I’ve got an apartment…’

‘Yes. But you don’t have a place you can call home. A place you
can go back to. It’s gone. Your mother died when you were…twelve, maybe. Yes, that’s it. You like cooking and…’ Flora glanced at Kalle’s empty beer bottle and stood up, ‘you like beer.’

She fetched another bottle. Kalle pressed his forehead against his hand as if to feel whether anything was visible.

‘How do you know all this?’

Flora sat down. ‘These are the concrete things I can see. They’re not really all that important. But I know who you are, if you understand what I mean. In a way that’s much more difficult to describe.’

‘And you…you like what you see?’

‘Yes. Very much.’

Kalle leaned back in his chair. There was a lot to take in this evening. Shouldn’t he feel some kind of…unease at the fact that she could see into his mind, the same unease he had felt in the Heath? Yes. On the other hand, this was exactly what everyone dreamed of: the idea that another person would see you, understand exactly who you were…and like you anyway.

‘This…’ said Kalle. ‘This ability of yours. Does it have anything to do with the Heath? You were there, after all.’

Flora sighed. ‘Yes. And no. I have…a lot to do with the Heath. But that’s a consequence of my ability. Not vice versa.’

‘You had it before?’

‘Yes.’

Kalle thought this was all very difficult. Why? He thought it over. Because everything was the wrong way round. Normally a relationship started with the details. What the other person did, where they lived, what kind of music they liked. Slowly you worked your way further in, found out the other stuff, the deeper perception of who this person really was. And Kalle had no corresponding information about Flora. Anything he might say or ask would be no more than trivia, scum on the surface. He sighed and scratched his head.

‘I know,’ said Flora. ‘It’s stupid, telling you this. But I have to. Otherwise it would be like…’

‘Spying?’

‘Yes. But I want to know all the other things too. If you want to tell me. If you want to…’

‘No,’ said Kalle.

Flora’s eyes closed as if she had been struck by a sudden but expected pain. She nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘No,’ Kalle went on. ‘I want to hear about
you
. It seems as if we’ve saved a few weeks finding out about me, so we’ve got plenty of time left for you.’

Flora burst out laughing. She lit candles and switched off the main light. Kalle fetched more beer. Flora talked about growing up in the Söder district of Stockholm, and her parents who were both lawyers. About her grandmother Elvy, who she saw frequently. About her grandfather Tore, who was one of the dead locked up in the Heath. How she and her friend Maja, who was studying politics, had found this apartment and moved in six months ago.

For the moment Flora was getting up at five o’clock in the morning four days a week and travelling to a place in Kungsholmen where she made sandwiches that were shrink-wrapped and sold mainly in newsagents’. The rest of the time she played Nintendo games, went to gigs, read a lot of poetry.

It was after midnight and they’d run out of beer; they’d moved on to sharing a bottle of wine that really belonged to Maja. They were both slightly tipsy, and Kalle was gazing at Flora, who was in the middle of a monologue about Nintendo.

‘…because the fantastic thing is there are no enemies in the Mushroom Kingdom. OK, Mario beats Bowser for the hundredth time, but suddenly he’s back playing golf or go-karting. They’re all friends. And there’s this really weird thing in Mario Sunshine. Someone who turns out to be Bowser’s son kidnaps Peach and there’s
this long…he says Peach is actually
his mother
. Mario’s completely floored. So’s Peach. She doesn’t get it at all.’ Flora laughed. ‘Which means that Peach and Bowser must have had a sexual relationship
without Peach knowing about it!
How stupid is she? Then of course it turns out that—’

‘Flora?’ said Kalle.

Flora blinked and looked up. ‘Yes?’

‘This business with the Heath. How does that fit in?’

Flora pulled a face. ‘Not now, Kalle. I’m a bit drunk, and that means…this perception of mine, it disappears. It feels so good. I’m just sitting here with a nice guy and I’m…happy. I don’t want to…’

‘No. OK.’

‘I can’t even cope with horror games anymore. I used to like them…but now I just want cute characters who are always friends. Cheers.’

‘Cheers. Where’s your…Maja?’

Flora knocked back the last of her wine. ‘I asked her to stay away tonight.’

‘I see.’

There was a brief silence. Then Kalle stood up. Flora stood up. They met in the middle of the kitchen floor. Kalle bent down, Flora stretched up. They tasted each other, quietly. Kalle held Flora’s head between his hands and asked, ‘What do you want to do now?’

A smile flitted across Flora’s lips.

‘I want to play Peach and Bowser.’

They laughed. They were a little bit scared, both of them. That’s how it is. They carried on anyway, as you do when you have to. Kalle’s shirt ended up on the draining board, Flora’s sweater on top of the cooker. Something ended up in the hallway and something else in the living room. They spread their shells and concentrated their bodies.

It was a quarter past ten in the morning when Kalle was woken by a knock at the bedroom door. He looked around and knew where he was, who he was with and exactly what the situation was. He also knew that nothing was expected of him. He relaxed and sank back on the pillow. Flora sat up, gave him a quick smile and shouted, ‘Come in’.

The girl who walked in was not unlike Flora, except that her hair was black and everything had been enlarged. She looked as if she was more or less the same height and weight as Kalle, and her facial features were small and unimportant in a broad face framed by frizzy, teased hair. He realised this was Maja, and he liked her straightaway.

Maja glanced at him in passing before coming over to the bed and saying to Flora in a serious tone of voice, ‘I think we need to ring the police.’

Flora didn’t look particularly worried. She rubbed her eyes and asked, ‘Why?’

Maja gestured towards the apartment. ‘That lunatic’s been here during the night chucking clothes all over the floor. What’s the matter with these people?’

Kalle glanced at Flora. Then he turned to Maja and asked, ‘Does he come here often?’

Maja shook her head. ‘No. This is the first time. But I think we ought to put a stop to it right now.’

‘Maja,’ said Flora, ‘this is Kalle. Kalle, Maja.’

They shook hands and Maja gazed at Kalle for a few seconds. Then she nodded as if giving her approval. She pointed to the newspaper protruding from her jacket pocket. ‘Have you read the paper, or have you been busy?’

‘Maja…’ said Flora.

‘OK. I’ll go and sort out some breakfast.’

She turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Kalle
and Flora lay in silence, as if they expected Maja to come storming back in at any second beating a tattoo. When it didn’t happen, Flora laid her hand on Kalle’s chest, stroked him gently and said, ‘Maja is…she thinks she has to…take care of me.’

‘Is that necessary?’

‘She thinks so.’

‘And what do you think?’

To Kalle’s surprise, the answer didn’t seem to be straightforward. Flora’s expression was distant as she thought about the question for a few seconds. Then she said, ‘I can understand why she feels that way.’

Before Kalle had time to ask any more questions, Flora got out of bed and said, ‘Come on. Breakfast.’

Kalle waved a hand at his naked body. ‘Fine by me, but I don’t know what Maja would…’

Flora went and gathered up their clothes. They got dressed, and when they were ready Kalle put his hand on Flora’s shoulder and turned her to face him.

‘I just wanted to say…I think you’re fantastic.’

Flora looked up at him and something grew within his breast, a sac that was gradually filled with light, pretty things. Her expression was naked and he knew with the clarity of a revelation:
I will never, ever hurt her
.

Bread, cheese, butter and milk had been put out on the table. Maja was sitting with the newspaper open in front of her. When they came in she began to read aloud:

‘
The reliving are still waiting for us to solve their mystery. Since chemical and biological analysis has still failed to produce results after three years, we should now ask ourselves if it is perhaps time to take the next step.

‘
A thorough pathological investigation could solve the central issue with minimal evidence of life. On a cellular level it has been
established that ATP is produced in the mitochondria…
’

Maja made a circular movement with her hand to indicate that the article continued in the same vein.

‘…
a vesicular exchange that corresponds with
…blah blah…
the international research foundation is amazed at the Swedish inability to
—we’ve heard this before—
thousands of Swedes dying unnecessarily every year
…
despairing relatives
…But listen to this!’

Maja pointed to a section towards the end of the item and went on:

‘
A proposed law that would allow research on living specimens has now been published for discussion. However, the Law Council has ended up in a Catch-22 situation. In order for this research to be sanctioned, results are required. These results can be obtained only by allowing the aforementioned research.

‘
The only solution is to grant permission on a temporary basis. The results can then be used as a foundation to formulate the proposed law. We must not let this opportunity slip through our fingers yet again.
’

Kalle and Flora sat down opposite her, and Flora put two slices of bread in the toaster.

‘No chance,’ said Flora. ‘Permission on a temporary basis? It’s just not going to happen.’ She pointed at the paper. ‘Is it her?’

Maja nodded.

‘Who are you talking about?’ asked Kalle.

Flora’s lips were compressed into a thin line. ‘Rebecka Liljewall. She’s Professor of—’

‘I know. She’s my sister.’

Flora reacted as if Kalle had just said you could make yourself invisible by picking your nose and eating what you found in there. She stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and distaste. Eventually she managed to speak: ‘So Sture Liljewall…is your father?’

‘Yes.’

The silence around the table was absolute. After a couple of seconds the toast popped up and broke the deadlock. Maja tossed the slices over to Kalle and Flora with a cheerful comment: ‘My, but you two have
lots
to talk about!’

Flora grabbed the newspaper and held it up in front of Kalle. ‘Have you got anything to do with this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t
know
?’

‘No. I’ve been moving some stuff.’

‘What kind of stuff?’

Kalle sighed. It was as if his family got to him whatever he did. He scraped a burnt patch off the toast and said, ‘I’m not allowed to say.’

Flora’s gaze felt like a physical heat burning into his cheek. Then she stood up, said ‘Fuck’, went back to her room and slammed the door. Kalle looked at the slice of toast, which he no longer wanted to eat, and heard Maja’s voice. ‘Flora hasn’t told you, has she?’

‘No.’

‘You could say she’s heavily involved in this business at the Heath. And now it seems as if you are too. On the side of the enemy.’

‘I’m not involved at all. I’ve just moved some stuff around, and it made me feel ill.’

‘But your sister and your father are right in the middle of it.’

‘Yes. But they might as well be Tarzan and Jane. I don’t have anything to do with them.’

Kalle looked at the picture of his sister next to the article and hated the sharp features pecking at his life. Suddenly Maja said, ‘Drop the secrecy. You’re just protecting something really, really bad.’

Kalle nodded and stood up, heading for Flora’s room. Behind
him he heard a bark of laughter. He turned around.

‘What are you laughing at?’