See You Tomorrow (40 page)

The white van pulls out on to Hillevågsveien. It has a red logo on the side with the motto,
Mariero Moving – Your problem is kein Problem.
Four people are sitting inside, all dressed in the company's light blue overalls, the motto of the firm written diagonally across the backs of each.

Rudi, Tong and Jan Inge sit in the spacious front seat, in that order, and Cecilie sits behind smoking.

Rudi turns the large steering wheel, but he doesn't feel at ease. The oxygen inside the vehicle is too thin. It's not like before. Tommy Pogo stresses him out. He still hasn't shown up. And the atmosphere in the van, that's also stressing him out. Is something funny going on? It's about time Tong started loosening up a little. Understandable if he has got some issues, maybe it was rough being inside this time, even for a rock-hard fucker like Mr Korea, but isn't he going to say one single thing?

Get released from prison, come home to your best mates –
your
Norwegian family
– and don't utter a bloody word. Here we are throwing our arms around him, hugging him, putting beer on the table, breaking out chocolate chip cookies and doing one thing after the fecking other, but the guy is behaving as though we don't exist. It's not natural.

‘Ah well, Tongi!'

Rudi makes an expansive gesture as they go around the roundabout by Strømsbrua Bridge.

‘I'd say you must be overwhelmed to see the old stamping ground again, eh? The city of Stavanger, best place on earth! Yessir!
Everything's the same as it was, apart from even more internet, and the financial crisis giving the globe a good seeing to from behind, not that it affected us, people have more than enough money for all the break-ins we could ever imagine—'

Rudi speaks extra loudly and in the back seat Cecilie giggles, albeit slightly nervously. Jan Inge smiles too, but Tong just stares straight ahead. A sheen coming off his jet-black hair. No movement from him at all, as though he isn't even breathing.

‘Well,' Rudi tries again, ‘anyway, it's good to have you back again, because heh heh, I don't think we'd manage this piano without you!'

No reaction at all from the great warrior. Is he a zombie? Is it just Rudi who thinks this is weird? Cecilie? Jani? Hello-o? This can't be put down to morning tiredness; this isn't Cecilie when she wakes up snapping like a hammerhead shark. Is he just going to sit there like a fighting fish?

Rudi gives Tong a nudge as they crawl up Tors Gate in Våland. ‘Hey, Tongo man. Time you came out of the freezer now. Come on, bushman. Hey, yellow peril! It's us! Your people! Did somebody die? Did you get a letter from Korea, someone calling you son, all of a sudden? Come on. Out with it,
caballero
!'

Silence. The Hiace turns on to Furras Gate.

It's pointless. Rudi nods to himself. Fine. No one can say he hasn't tried to be the life and soul of the party, as Gran used to refer to him. Or the clown, as she also used to call him.

‘Here we are,' Jan Inge says, pointing to a white wooden house on the left hand side. ‘Thirty-nine.'

Rudi slows down and pulls in slowly to the kerb. They open the doors and a bent, old woman appears by the gate.

‘Everyone behave themselves, now,' Jan Inge says, ‘and we leave with our flawless reputation intact. As usual.'

He takes a step towards the elderly woman. She's wearing a blue dress, has wavy, white hair, glowing cheeks and strong blue eyes.

‘Ludvigsen?'

She's a small woman, must be over seventy years old, and even though she doesn't look like she was ever as tall as a tree, she must have shrunk a little as well.

‘Yes, that's me,' she says smiling. ‘Splendid you could come, yes, let's see now, the piano is in there. I don't know how you intend to do it, but anyway it's to go to my daughter's. I don't have the space for it any more, or rather I do, but I don't feel I can really have it here any longer, so I thought—'

‘You know what,' Rudi says, dazzled by the beautiful old woman who in every way reminds him of Gran, ‘you know,' he repeats, bending down to her, ‘this will be no problem.'

‘That's our motto, all right,' says Jan Inge, taking charge, ‘
your problem is kein Problem
.'

‘Such lovely young people,' says the elderly woman and shows them to the living room. She offers Tong a rather wary glance, but Cecilie notices and gives her an extra large smile.

‘Oh, there's not a pick on you,' the old woman says, ‘you need to eat, girl.'

Cecilie laughs. ‘I eat plenty, so I do, just have a fast metabolism.'

‘Ah,' the old woman says, ‘I've always wanted a fast metabolism, but it wasn't my lot in life.' Then she lowers her voice and leans towards Cecilie: ‘Constipation. Takes three days.'

Rudi makes a brief attempt to follow the indistinct conversation before heading for the living room, Jan Inge and Tong following behind him. The grand piano, which he quickly estimates to be close to seven feet in length, is standing in the centre of the room. There are high ceilings in the old house, but lots of tricky little corners.

‘Ludvigsen?' he hears Jan Inge say. ‘You don't have any other exits on this floor, do you? A veranda or something?'

‘Oh, yes,' replies the little woman. ‘There's one back here…'

‘Detachable feet,' Rudi mumbles, bending down to the piano. ‘Heavy as hell. Still. We'll manage it.' He turns to the old woman and speaking slightly louder in a friendly tone asks: ‘Is it old?'

Tong stands stiff and straight by the door.

‘Oh heavens, yes,' the woman says, ‘it's so old now. I inherited it from my grandfather – it's a Steinway, as you can see…'

‘A Steinway,' nods Jan Inge. ‘No, they're not exactly giving them away.'

The woman laughs, her face lighting up.

‘Apparently I could get half a million for it if I sold it.'

Over by the door, Tong shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Cecilie gulps. Jan Inge clears his throat. Rudi doesn't know where to look.

‘But I'd never sell it, not for all the money in the world, no, what would I do with that kind of money? I can hardly spend what I have as it is.'

Tong shifts his weight again. Cecilie sweeps her tongue over her front teeth and Jan Inge fumbles for his inhaler, which he locates in the trouser pocket of his overalls. Rudi's gaze flits around the room.

‘Asthma,' says Jan Inge.

‘No, I'm going to give it to my daughter,' says the woman, then lowers her voice a notch, ‘I've discovered I can pass it on to her as an advance on inheritance, and that's probably just as well,' before lowering her voice even more, drawing closer to them, almost gathering them in a ring, ‘it's my grandchildren, you see,' she says.

‘What about them?' Rudi asks, when the woman doesn't appear to intend finishing her sentence and lapses into thoughtful silence. She moves even closer.

‘They're drug addicts,' she says. ‘Apparently they steal from everyone. That's what happens with drug addicts,' she adds. ‘They lose the run of themselves, stop being the people they once were, and so it could well come to pass, my daughter tells me, that they end up trying to rob their own grandmother.'

Rudi can see Tong's arms twitching. His veins are visible, as are his muscles.

‘Imagine,' the old woman says. ‘Their own grandmother. Jørgen and Svein Anders. I just don't understand it.'

Rudi can hear Tong breathing now.

‘Well,' Rudi says loudly, ‘we need to go out to the van to fetch some equipment, the Haraldsen siblings here will remove the legs and go through the practical details with you, and hey presto, this expensive Steinway piano will be on its way to your daughter's house and out of the clutches of those monsters you have as grandchildren!'

Rudi seizes Tong by the arm and hisses: ‘Come on!'

He halts on the steps outside and throws Tong up against the wall: ‘What the fuck is wrong with you? Were you planning on flattening the old biddy and taking her piano? Hm? What the fuck is your problem! Here we are, after picking you up – or Cecilie did – and laying on chocolate chip cookies and beer and good humour, and what do you bring? Have you ever heard of manners, for Chrisssake?'

Cecilie and Jan Inge emerge from the house behind them, both looking anxious, shutting the front door quickly behind them.

‘What's going on,' Jan Inge whispers. ‘What the hell are you two up to?'

Rudi feels the pulse in his throat throb and releases Tong.

‘I've had enough of this bloody Korean simpleton. He was all ready to bash in grandma's brains there. And has he said anything all day? Hm? This has gone too far!'

Jan Inge studies Tong, who's standing completely still. Cecilie looks at him too.

‘You need to say something, Tong,' says Jan Inge. ‘Rudi has overstepped the mark, I know, but he does have … well, a point.'

Tong makes some movements with his lower jaw, opens his mouth and spits in the direction of an elderberry bush beside the driveway.

‘What's the deal?'

‘Ehh … I don't quite follow you now,' Jan Inge says.

‘Tonight. What's the deal.'

‘With Pål, you mean. Simple enough job. Smash up the house, give the guy a few bruises. Take what we find.'

‘Alibi?'

‘God, what is with everyone today?' Jan Inge shakes his head. ‘Of course. I have an address in Sandal. We drive the van there. We're at work from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. We're moving the contents of one terraced house to another. Witnesses all arranged. Watertight.'

‘And the deal?'

‘I told you, Tong. Smash up the house. Alter the guy. Take what we find. What are you getting at?'

Tong closes his eyes. ‘That's the deal?'

Rudi is livid. ‘Yeah, that's the deal, but first Tampon is going to pay us a visit!'

Jan Inge looks at him resignedly. Cecilie's eyes grow larger. Rudi throws his arms up. He just couldn't contain himself.

‘Yeah,' he says. ‘We ran into him yesterday. He said he was going to drop by.'

Tong shakes his head slowly.

‘This is unbelievable. You've got Tampon on your back? And you're still going ahead with it? And the insurance money? That is so incredibly lame. You haven't demanded a cut of the money. You waltz straight into a house with a piano worth half a million inside while Tommy Pogo is hiding behind the bushes watching us. This is my last day with you lot. I can't stand you, Rudi, or you, Jan Inge. You're just … you're nothing to me. Understand? I'll go along tonight, but only if you agree to us taking half of the insurance sum. After I've taken my cut we'll never see each other again.'

Tong turns to Cecilie.

‘And you?'

He shakes his head.

‘Jesus,' he says. ‘You are the fucking ugliest woman I've ever seen.'

Rudi's fists begin to clench, his teeth begin to tap, but as he's about to head-butt Tong the front door opens. The old lady's head appears.

‘Ah,' she says, ‘I was almost beginning to think you'd left. It was so quiet. Look, I've defrosted a little apple pie.'

She holds out a tray with some slices on it.

‘Yes,' she says, ‘and elderflower cordial. You must try some. All that hard work you do. My grandchildren used to like it so much, Granny's elderflower cordial.'

Veronika strokes him across the wrist. His veins are swollen, as though lying ashamed beneath his skin. Daniel withdraws from her caress. He puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it up. He leans towards the teak coffee table and takes hold of his helmet. He fiddles with the strap. She reaches for his hands, grips them tightly and kisses him. She tastes of seaweed, of icing sugar and iron and he can’t stand it.

Daniel tears himself free and gets to his feet.

‘What is it?’ asks Veronika.

He can’t bring himself to answer. His shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to talk any more. He just wants to strike out. He opens the door to the concrete corridor and the light from the rehearsal room floods out to where the moped is standing. The Suzuki gleams. Daniel walks over to it, runs his fingers along it.

Why must it be this way?

Why must everything go down?

Why must everything go under?

‘Daniel?’

He’s a matter of seconds from whirling around and going for her, seconds from sinking his teeth into her throat and biting down until she loses her deaf life. But he doesn’t. He remains standing looking at the Suzuki.

He can tell by her footsteps that she’s coming closer. She really shouldn’t, he thinks.

Veronika pokes him on the shoulder.

He doesn’t look around, but she continues jabbing him.

Eventually he turns. She looks shattered, and he says: ‘Don’t poke me.’

He takes a step towards the Suzuki, takes it by the handlebars, kicks the stand up and points to the entrance. ‘Will you get the door?’

‘Daniel, you have to remember to think straight. I understand that you’re angry, I understand that you’re afrai—’

He merely continues to point and Veronika doesn’t say any more. She does as he signals. Walks to the door, opens it and lets the September light in.

‘You’re not easy to understand,’ she says. He can see she’s trying to make eye contact, but no fucking way is he going to let her.

‘I haven’t asked anybody to understand me.’

She reaches her hand out, but he ignores it. ‘Only a little while ago you said we should stuff everything. We should just leave. Together. But now – what is it you want to do now?’

He doesn’t reply.

‘Daniel, things change so quickly with you.’

‘Right,’ he says, feeling power in his own self-contradiction.

He sees her let out a heavy breath. He can see she actually wants to crack. But he can also see she’s restraining herself. She nods. Smiles.

‘Where are we going?’ she asks. Her smile is feigned, but he likes the fact that she makes an effort.

‘Are you one of those people who need to know everything?’

He sees her eyes mist over.

That brought her right back down.

Are you going to cry, deaf girl?

‘Didn’t you understand what I said? Did you not manage to read my lips, thought you were a world champion at it? A-r-e-y-o-u-o-n-e-o-f-t-h-o-s-e-p-e-o-p-l-e-w-h-o-n-e-e-d-t-o-k-n-o-w-e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g?’

She continues to look at him. But she doesn’t begin to cry. She folds her arms.

‘Answer me,’ he says. ‘If you’re the kind of person who goes on and on asking questions and needs to know everything and can’t trust a guy, then you can just forget about me, got it?’

‘Daniel, I—’

‘I asked you a simple fucking question. Can you not answer?’

Veronika brings her hand to his face, letting it rest there until his breathing regulates.

‘Yes, I can,’ she says. ‘I’m not the type who needs to know everything. Take me with you, wolfman.’

‘What the hell is with the wolf stuff?’

‘That’s what I like to call you,’ she says and lets out a laugh, intended to lighten the atmosphere, like her mother always does when she and Veronika argue. ‘Where are we going?’

‘A place.’

‘Okay. But you know that right now we ought to stay put? That there’s probably lots of people looking for you and me at the moment—’

He doesn’t listen. He wheels the Suzuki out into the light, wishing it were deadly. He wished the light would bring a violent end to Daniel William Moi, wished the rays of the sun were like scalpels, making an incision in his skin, folding it aside and opening into a snapping, chomping, howling mouth, and he wished it caused unparalleled pain.

Daniel tosses her the keys and climbs on to the moped. She locks the door, then gets on behind, putting her arms around him.

‘Daniel?’

He turns his head.

‘Are you going to see her? I’m up for anything, but I won’t go along with that.’

He puts the key in the ignition.

Veronika narrows her eyes. ‘Do you love her?’

Daniel feels his fists tighten on the handlebars. ‘There’s someone I need to talk to before it’s too late,’ he says.

It’s just a normal day all around us, thinks Daniel, trying to relax his grip on the handlebars. He tries thinking about how he doesn’t need to hit her. He sucks on his tongue, as though it were a damp cloth or a snowball.

‘Veronika,’ he says. ‘I’m never going to tell you or anybody else what happened to me. If I do, it’ll happen again.’

They ride up the hill from the bomb shelter and he swallows back saliva while he lets his gaze sweep over the housing estate they’re leaving behind, the little houses that grow smaller and smaller the further away they get. There are people inside them. Some of them are off school sick. Some of them are asleep, because
they’ve worked a nightshift or couldn’t sleep the night before. And maybe somewhere, in one of those terraced houses, there are people in bed together, in the middle of the day, in the bright light, and maybe somewhere there’s a person daring to raise a gun against all that light that’s just too strong.

Daniel deals with it. He doesn’t hit her.