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Authors: Hans Koppel

You're Mine Now (9 page)

BOOK: You're Mine Now
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Anna looked at her husband with amusement.

‘Shall I show you what you’re sitting on?’

‘Very funny.’

Magnus pulled more of the lead towards him. He had washed the outside of the car, rinsed the rubber mats and was now going to vacuum the inside. All so they could take good pictures that showed the car at its best.

‘It’s all about turning the buyer on,’ he explained. ‘The first impression is what counts.’

Sweden’s worst car buyer was now an expert in selling and knew how it should be done. The professional dealer they had visited earlier in the week hadn’t wanted to give them a better offer, which had annoyed both Magnus and Anna so much that they decided to try an alternative make to the car that was almost obligatory for Swedish families.

‘You don’t have to put your bum in the same seat all your life,’ he continued. ‘It’s the customer who decides.’

Magnus was lured by the prestige of a German make, Anna by the prospect of something cheaper. But no matter what, the first thing on their list was to sell their existing car.

‘You’re good,’ Anna said, and left her husband to his work.

Half an hour later she was standing in the kitchen with Anna, watching Magnus set up his rarely used camera equipment, which included a tripod and remote control.

‘Is he taking pictures?’ Hedda asked.

‘No, he’s creating images,’ Anna replied, unable to hold back a laugh.

Hedda didn’t understand what was so funny, but was happy just to be part of it.

‘Wait,’ Anna said, and went out into the hall and dug out a beret from among all the hats. ‘Go out to Daddy and say that he has to put this on.’

Hedda went out and handed him the beret. She pointed towards Anna, who was in the kitchen filming it all on her mobile phone. When Magnus realised that unexpectedly he was entertaining his family with his artistic ambitions, he donned the beret and played along, moved the tripod centimetre this way, a centimetre that – unable to decide which was best.

Two hours later they were sitting in their newly spruced car on the way to Väla. The advert had been posted on the internet and Magnus checked his phone at regular intervals to make sure that he hadn’t missed any calls from prospective buyers.

‘It’s never looked so good,’ Anna said, when they’d parked. ‘Maybe we should just keep it.’

Magnus looked at her. His entire existence was now focused on upgrading the car. His wife’s words made the ground under him shudder on the Richter Scale.

‘Just joking,’ she said, and took his arm.

The heaving shopping centre was like a cancerous tumour, packed full of hypnotised shopping zombies. Anna nudged Magnus in the ribs and nodded at their daughter, who was walking a few steps in front of them. She looked like a born-again Bible belt American in Jesus country. Hedda’s wide-eyed fascination with the people and what was on offer made both Anna and Magnus quiver with delight. They both realised they had to enjoy it while it lasted. Soon enough Hedda would be embarrassed to be seen with them, like all teenagers.

She turned to them.

‘Mum, your phone’s ringing. Can’t you hear it?

Anna fished her phone out of her bag.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi, it’s me.’

Erik’s voice. Anna’s mood swung from easy and happy to troubled and nervous within a fraction of a second. Her windpipe constricted and her cheeks reddened. She stopped, trying to keep her distance from Magnus. But he stopped too, looked at her, wondered who it was on the phone.

‘No, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong number,’ Anna forced herself to say.

‘Call me,’ Erik said.

‘Not at all.’

She hung up.

‘Wrong number,’ she said, and put her phone back in her bag.

She could barely swallow, looked around to find something to comment on, something insignificant and everyday, whatever. She was ready to confess, whether it was wanted or not. She couldn’t hide her feelings from the man she loved and had shared her life with for fifteen years, it wasn’t possible.

‘Right,’ was Magnus’ response. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I want to go to the pet shop,’ Hedda cried.

‘I have to pop into H&M,’ Anna said. ‘Need to buy some tights.’

‘Okay,’ Magnus replied. ‘I’ll go to the pet shop with Hedda and we’ll meet outside the coffee place.’

Anna smiled at him with love.

‘You really don’t want to be here any longer than necessary,’ she said.

Magnus shrugged.

‘Just thought it would be more efficient.’

‘Okay, see you there.’

They parted. After a hundred metres, Anna turned to make sure her husband and daughter were far enough away. She got out her phone and called.

‘Hi.’

His voice was soft and affectionate, intimate, as if they shared a world together.

‘I’m with Magnus and my daughter at Väla,’ Anna snapped, and looked around.

‘Oh, sorry.’

‘You can’t call me, certainly not on a Sunday. Don’t you understand that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you mean, “what do you mean”?’

‘Why can’t I call you?

‘Because I’m married and I have children.’

‘You don’t know why I’m calling you. Maybe I want some help with the advertising campaign.’

‘Erik…’

‘I miss you.’

Anna didn’t answer.

‘I want to see you again,’ he continued. ‘And not just for work, I want to see you again, like when we were at my place.’

His speech was slurred.

‘Are you drunk?’

‘I’m not drunk.’

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘Not much, just a couple of beers.’

‘Erik, listen to me. Don’t ring me again. Promise me that.’

‘Can I text you?’

‘No.’

‘Anna…’

She pressed
DISCONNECT
and considered turning to silent mode. But then realised that Magnus might try to get hold of her. She couldn’t turn off the sound before they’d met up again.

Getting drunk on a Sunday was something that only upper-class people did, and he certainly wasn’t one of them. A couple of beers… So that was why he’d stayed sober at Mölle with his bosses. He had a problem with alcohol. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her earlier. That made things even more complicated, meant that she could never be certain, that any time he might…

A new signal, the same number.

‘I said that you can’t phone me.’

‘Just one thing. I assumed you were on your own now as you called me.’

‘What?’ Anna demanded.

‘I like you.’

‘Erik.’

‘Wait, wait. Let me finish. I…’

He was silent.

‘You what? Come on, say what you’ve got to say.’

‘Can’t you come over?’

‘No, under no circumstances. Put the phone down now and don’t you dare call me again.’

She hung up and turned off the sound. It would just have to stay on silent. The man was dangerous.

Anna put her bag down on her desk and went out into the kitchen. Her hand was shaking as she poured the coffee. She went back to her place, pretended not to notice Sissela’s scrutinising eyes.

‘Hung-over?’

‘Not at all. I slept badly, lay awake practically all night.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Oh, it’s horrible,’ Sissela commiserated, and then automatically turned the conversation to her. ‘I went through a period like that about six months ago, just about drove me mad. It’s a vicious circle. Did you try tensing your body? I mean, tense every muscle and then hold it for a few seconds before relaxing. It usually works.’

‘Sissela.’

She held up her hand.

‘Sorry, just trying to be helpful.’

Anna sat down at her computer, put her bag on the floor beside her and went through the pile of features she’d printed out. She always edited on paper first, then made the corrections in the original document. She printed it out again and made some more small corrections, a third printout, and so on. Editing was an endless job, there wasn’t a text in the world that couldn’t be better formulated, tighter. Obviously it wasn’t prize-winning literature and Anna normally stopped when she started to reinstate previous changes and she had gone the full cycle.

The articles on the table were more or less ready, and only the captions had to be honed.

Trude made her entrance, radiant and beautiful as always. Anna was often struck by her beauty on Mondays in particular. It was as if she had forgotten what her colleague looked like over the weekend, or suppressed it. By Wednesday she’d got used to it again, and when they left the office on Friday she no longer noticed, only to be reminded again after the weekend.

‘Watch out for Anna,’ Sissela told her. ‘She hasn’t slept well.’

‘Oh, why’s that?’ Trude asked.

Anna waved the question away.

‘Nothing in particular, just couldn’t sleep.’

‘Didn’t you have any pills?’

‘I don’t like pills, they totally zonk me out.’

‘And exactly how bright-eyed are you when you haven’t slept?’

Anna sipped her coffee and opened a file on the computer. She clicked on the caption as she read the headline, and tried to think of something better. Quote boxes generally started with ‘I’, ‘Now’ or ‘My’, which got a bit tedious when you flicked through the magazine. Like everything was just a regurgitation of something that had been said before.

‘I masturbate,’ Trude said. ‘Usually works.’

‘But then you just get turned on,’ Sissela countered.

‘Just a quickie. You come, big yawn and zonk. Out for the count.’

Anna wasn’t listening. She was sitting with her right hand on the pile of papers, the top page down to the left, pretending to look through the letters, which had now mutated into black spots.

She was scared. Scared of what lay ahead. Of it all coming out, the showdown. What would happen? How would it affect her marriage? Would Magnus stay? If not, how would they sort out all the practical issues? Their lifestyle was based on two salaries and there wasn’t much left over for any extras. She couldn’t bear the thought of an every-alternate-week life with Hedda. She couldn’t imagine a day without her daughter. Anna almost wished that Magnus would do the same thing so that she didn’t need to feel guilty. But that wouldn’t happen. Her husband wasn’t a ladies’ man. His sexual appetite wasn’t so great that it couldn’t easily be satisfied within social conventions. O happy martyr with good on your side.

‘I’ll have to try that next time,’ Sissela said. ‘I normally tense my body. You know, the kind of relaxation exercises we did in gym at school.’

Anna put her hand into her bag and checked her phone without taking it out. No text messages and no missed calls. At least Erik hadn’t tried to contact her again after that crazy conversation yesterday.

What if he was mad? Why had he picked her? It had been magical, it wasn’t that. But it was pretend, a random meeting, a parenthesis, something that happened outside ordinary, everyday life. Couldn’t he just be happy with that?

He had turned up at Laröd. Appeared from behind the bus like something out of a horror movie. He’d been sober then. Why would he take the bus if he hadn’t been drinking? What was it his friend was called? Something very ordinary. Andersson. Johan Andersson.

She went on to find.se, typed in the name and ‘Helsingborg’. Got more than twelve hits, but no Hittarp or Laröd. She felt her pulse rise, but then thought that maybe the phone was listed under his wife’s name. She tried with just Andersson, but was none the wiser. Over two thousand hits. She didn’t have time to trawl through them all. And she didn’t know if they were married, and even if they were, it didn’t mean that the wife had taken his name.

‘Enough,’ she said out loud, to stop herself from looking any more.

‘Enough what?’ Sissela asked.

Anna waved her hand.

‘Nothing. I’m just thinking out loud.’

She looked down at her captions again, pretended to read.

‘How are the advertising boys getting on?’ Trude asked.

Anna looked up, but realised the question was directed at Sissela.

‘How do you mean?’

‘With their campaign? Did they do anything?’

‘Oh, right, yes, thanks for reminding me. I was going to leave a message. No, it didn’t really amount to much. What do you think?’

Trude shrugged. Sissela turned to Anna.

‘And you?’

‘I don’t know.’

Sissela pulled a face.

‘I don’t know?’ she parroted. ‘Come on, say what you think.’

‘Well, it wasn’t a complete catastrophe,’ Anna tried.

‘But?’

‘I think they’re on the wrong track.’

‘Good,’ Sissela concluded. ‘We all agree.’

 

Lack of sleep reminded her of being hung-over. A short fuse and irritation that could at any moment tip over into giggling delight. With a bit of food in her stomach, Anna felt euphoric. Sissela used the lunch break to bitch about her husband.

‘I don’t know what it is,’ she said. ‘He just rings me on the work phone for no reason to check that I’m here. Goes into details and over things again and again.’

‘When you’ve had an argument?’ Trude asked.

‘No, no, what we’re going to eat for dinner and who said what when. And lots of things that have happened recently that need to be analysed and relived and it’s just not interesting.’

‘He’s keeping tabs on you?’

‘No, not really, he’s more like a dog in a small kitchen, always in the way. You can’t turn round without finding him standing there with begging eyes.’

‘Maybe he’s just restless,’ Anna said.

‘Do you know how much he does? Wine and food…’

‘The good life?’

‘Yes, and walking and the great outdoors.’

‘Sven Hedin style?’

‘Exactly. But not one of the experiences he talks about so much can even begin to match the intensity of his rage when someone points out that I earn more.’

‘Oh, you’re being horrible.’

‘On Saturday, when the guests had left, guess what he did.’

Sissela was interrupted by her phone. She held up her mobile, to show that it was the devil they’d just been talking about on the other end. She pressed
ANSWER
.

‘I’m sitting here eating.’

She rocked her head back and forth, indicated her lack of interest with her free hand.

‘Okay, I’ll call you later.’

She finished the conversation and then checked that she really had hung up.

‘Where was I? Yes, that was it.’

Sissela told in great detail how a successful dinner party on Saturday had put her husband in the mood. When it was time to go to bed, he had appeared with a tub of chocolate sauce.

Anna laughed and disliked herself for doing it. She didn’t know how she’d be able to look Sissela’s husband in the eye next time they met. Without thinking about chocolate sauce and misconceived amorous advances.

The relaxed atmosphere around the table threatened to distance them from the rest of the editorial team. Not only were they sitting slightly apart from everyone else, they were also having fun and very obviously at the cost of someone who wasn’t there.

They were still laughing when they got out of the lift at the editorial office and walked side by side down the corridor. Anna wasn’t quite comfortable with the role as one of the cool girls. Only someone who was outside the group would imagine that it was something to aspire to.

One of the layout girls was walking towards them. She looked at Anna.

‘You’ve got a visitor,’ she said.

‘Have I?’

‘I gave him some coffee,’ the layout girl said, and pointed towards the kitchen.

‘Him?’ Sissela chirped with delight and headed her troops into the kitchen. ‘Oh, hello! Nice to see you again. Everything okay?’

She shook Erik Månsson’s hand, warmly, with both hands. He turned to Anna, tried to avoid Sissela’s attention by saying a quick hello to Trude as well.

‘I hope there hasn’t been a misunderstanding here,’ Sissela said, taking command again.

Erik didn’t follow.

‘That you’re starting to ask for payment, I mean. I don’t want to see any invoices on my desk.’

‘No risk, you don’t need to worry about that.’

‘Good, glad we agree.’

Sissela turned to Anna.

‘Well, we’ll leave you in peace then. Don’t want to disturb the creative process, do we?’

Sissela left them in a good mood. Anna pointed.

‘Let’s sit down in the meeting room.’

She walked in front of him over to the glass box where Erik and his older colleagues had presented their slightly sad subscription campaign the week before. She held the door open, let Erik through, then went in and closed the door behind her. Erik was carrying a tablet instead of a briefcase. He put it down on the table and looked at Anna.

‘Sit down,’ she said, indicating one of the chairs.

Erik settled and glanced out at the editorial office on the other side of the glass. Anna had her back to the open-plan office.

‘They can see us, but can’t hear what we saying,’ Anna said with authority. ‘Everything we say has to be said calmly and quietly, no agitated waving of the arms. Understood?’

Erik nodded.

‘We’re two adults talking in a normal voice,’ she continued. ‘You’re here to discuss various proposals for the campaign that we both know is not going to happen.’

Erik turned his head to the side and looked at her in amusement. Then he looked past her out into the office. Anna felt uncertain.

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Nothing,’ Erik said, without moving his eyes.

Anna turned round and saw that no one outside the glass box was paying them the slightest bit of attention. She looked at Erik, who was smiling. He’d taken control without any effort whatsoever. Anna didn’t understand how that was possible. It was her workplace, her territory. She straightened up, changed position and took a deep breath.

‘You phoned me when you were drunk,’ she accused. ‘On a Sunday, when I was at Väla with my family.’

‘Have you never been drunk?’ Erik asked.

‘In the middle of the day on a Sunday?’ Anna asked, with contempt. ‘I don’t think so.’ Erik didn’t seem bothered.

‘I was over in Denmark,’ he said. ‘Had a couple of beers, felt lonely.’

Anna stared at him, tried to force him to look away. Erik had no problem meeting her gaze. She lost and was forced to shake her head so she could carry on.

‘What are you playing at?’ she asked.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’

‘You turn up just a block away from my house in the middle of the night, you call on a Sunday when I’m with my family, come here when nothing has been arranged. What is it you want?’

‘I thought you said we were going to talk with normal voices.’

Anna forced herself to breathe deeply three times.

‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘Please tell me.’

‘To start with, I want to know what you meant when you said that there won’t be a campaign.’

‘I mean, what do you want from me?’ Anna interrupted.

‘What do I want from you?’ Erik repeated. ‘Why?’

‘Don’t you understand that there can never be anything between us?’

Erik struggled to keep a straight face. Anna felt her temper rising.

‘What are you doing here? What do you want?’

‘Well, I partly wanted to talk about the campaign and I partly wanted to see you.’

‘I don’t want to see you,’ Anna said, unemotional and clear. ‘I’m not interested.’

‘Since when?’

‘What do you mean?’

Erik sat up.

‘What’s changed?’ he asked. ‘You wanted to last week. Why not now?’

‘I’ve got a family.’

‘You’ve had one all along.’

‘Erik, it was in the heat of the moment.’

He looked at her.

‘That sounds good,’ he said. ‘The heat of the moment. But there were more moments, weren’t there?’

Anna clasped her hands on the table and leaned forwards.

‘Erik, listen to me.’

She looked him straight in the eye.

‘There can never be anything between you and me. I am not interested. Do you understand what I’m saying? What happened happened. And until yesterday, I thought it was something positive, a memory that I could enjoy with real pleasure and warmth. Now, I don’t know any more. I’m begging you, let’s just stop it here. Let it be what it was, and both get on with our lives.’

Erik stared at her with a blank expression.

‘Now, can you please open your tablet and pretend to show me a proposal,’ she added.

‘What?’

‘Open your iPad and pretend to show me what you’ve come up with.’

‘What did I do wrong?’ Erik asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Anna replied.

‘Why don’t you want to see me again?’

‘I’m married, Erik. I love my husband, we have a daughter. I live a normal family life. You and I met once at a hotel. Plus the few times in your flat.’

‘So it means nothing?’

He swallowed and looked upset.

‘Erik, it won’t work. You know that too. Please say that you understand.’

BOOK: You're Mine Now
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