Betrayal

She stayed in bed all morning. When Axel woke up, Henrik followed him out to the living room and turned on the children’s programme, but he hadn’t come back to bed to steal another hour of sleep as he usually did. Instead she heard the door to the office close and the sound of the computer booting up.

The pain in her chest had subsided, only a vague ache was left.

When the digital numbers on the clock radio had progressed to a quarter to twelve, he suddenly stood in the doorway.

‘I’m going out tonight. Micke wanted us to go out for a beer.’

She didn’t answer. Just confirmed that his inability to lie was astounding, a pure insult.

‘You do that.’

Then he was gone.

She got up, reached for her robe, and went into the kitchen. Axel was sitting on the floor rolling his rubber balls down an invisible course, and Henrik was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

‘I promised Annika I’d call round so we can have a meeting at the day-care tomorrow evening.’

He looked up at her.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Well, what’s the alternative?’

He ignored the question and went back to his paper.

She continued.

‘If I were Linda, I’d want a chance to explain myself. Wouldn’t you?’

If I were Linda.

She silently scoffed.

That was just it.

He turned the page even though he hadn’t read a word.

‘I just don’t understand what you have to do with all this. Why do you have to organise a meeting? You didn’t get an email, did you?’

No. But there’s a gun cabinet in my cellar full of disgusting love letters to you.

‘Because it’s Axel’s day-care teacher we’re talking about. You must realise that it will affect the situation at the day-care centre when this all comes out. If it’s true that she sent all those emails, would you have any confidence in her?’

‘It’s her own business, isn’t it?’

‘Her own business? Sending unwanted love letters to the children’s fathers?’

‘Did my day-care teacher do that?’ Axel was sitting still on the floor and weighing a light-green rubber ball in his hand.

Henrik gave her a look full of contempt. Or was it pure hatred she saw?

‘Great. Just great.’

He got up and left the room. By now she had learned how many steps it took. Eleven from his place at the table to his office, twelve if he took time to close the door behind him.

This time it was twelve.

‘What about my day-care teacher?’

She went over and sat down with Axel. Absentmindedly she took a red rubber ball from the floor and made it come out of his ear by magic.

‘Wow! And I thought you only had green balls in your ears!’

He smiled.

‘Do I have any in the other ear?’

She glanced quickly to the side to find another ball.

‘No. The one in there hasn’t finished growing yet. The green ones take a little longer to grow.’

She took the cordless phone and the day-care list out on to the balcony and sat there making her calls. She had pulled a cardigan over her shoulders. It was warm for March, and after she had sat there a while she took off the cardigan and put it on the bench. She looked at the pylons that stuck up a few hundred metres away like futuristic steel wonders from the nature preserve. Nicke and Nocke, Axel had dubbed them as soon as he learned to talk. Although they were a conspicuous contrast to the woods, she had always liked them; they were always a landmark for home. She remembered a business flight from Örebro. The meeting that was the reason for the trip had raised insoluble problems, and she had climbed aboard the plane full of stress and tension. It was past ten at night, and soon after they took off she could see the masts far off in the distance. And she remembered the feeling of being so far away but still able to see home, to Henrik and Axel and everything that was safe. It was a moment of clarity about what was really important in life.

But then the years had passed.

Sixteen times she explained that Linda had emailed unwanted love letters to some of the fathers in the day-care group, and that they needed to have a meeting on Sunday evening. After her seventh call the phone managed to ring before she dialled the next number.

‘Hi Eva, it’s Kerstin at day-care.’

She sounded sad. Sad and tired.

‘I just spoke to Annika Ekberg and heard that you two talked yesterday.’

‘Yes, she called me late last night.’

There was a brief pause and all she heard was a deep sigh.

‘Linda is quite upset. She didn’t send those emails. We don’t know how it happened.’

‘No, I must admit I was quite shocked. I have a hard time believing it’s true. I mean that Linda would have an affair with any of the fathers at day-care. That’s a bit much.’

She looked out over the garden and tried to find the words that were required to describe what she was feeling. A calm after having regained control. Like an invisible spider in a net that no one but she knew existed. At the same time she wondered what she needed the control for, where she was headed. A feeling of being totally present. The here and now was everything. The next breath, the next minute. Everything after that was impossible to imagine. A thick red line had been drawn with a marker in an imaginary datebook, and that line could never be erased. Never ever. The past and the future had been ripped apart and would never meet again. And she herself was in limbo in between.

A sound made her turn her head. Out of the corner of her eye she had caught sight of something moving. Something big that quickly vanished behind the shed at the corner of the garden. In her life before the line in the datebook, she would have heeded the warning and gone out to pour blood meal on the most strategic spots, but now it made no difference. As far as she was concerned, the deer could eat up every hint of growth, each carefully nourished plant. Nothing would ever bloom again in this garden.

‘I heard that you suggested we should arrange a meeting tomorrow evening, and at first I was dubious but . . . There’s probably no other solution. I just don’t know how Linda is going to bear it. This will open up a lot of issues for her. She had a very hard time of it earlier, and that’s why she moved to Stockholm. It’s nothing we need to discuss in this case, but I did want you to know about it at least.’

Another deep sigh.

‘I actually just called to ask you to stress, when you make your calls, that Linda is incredibly upset about all this, and that she did not send those emails.’

‘Of course.’

Linda had a very hard time of it earlier, and that’s why she moved to Stockholm.

Interesting. Extremely interesting. But whatever she had a hard time with, it apparently didn’t teach her to respect the lives of other people. No, divide and conquer, go straight into the shower and put down your earrings. Take whatever you want, you can’t be bothered if some family is destroyed.

No, little Linda. You can sit there with your sad story. Your hard time is only beginning.

On the other hand, it might be useful to find out what you were running away from when you moved to Stockholm.

Henrik had already left by four o’clock. Dressed up and clean-shaven and in a cloud of aftershave he went off to have a beer with Micke. He had spent most of the afternoon in his office, but at regular intervals he had come out and restlessly wandered about the house. Like an animal in a cage. And she was the hated zoo-keeper, the one he was dependent on but who saw to it that his captivity was maintained.

She put Axel to bed at eight and thankfully he went to sleep right away. The knowledge of who Henrik was with crept into her body, and nothing on TV could distract her from her fantasies. She wondered where they were, what they were doing, whether they were lying entwined together and whether he was cautiously consoling her. Giving her all the tenderness and love that once had been hers.

Henrik and Eva.

So long ago.

How had it come to this? When had it reached the point that everything was suddenly too late?

She was all alone. He had already found himself a new travelling companion to lean on, someone to whom he could calmly lay out the alternatives for the future. It was an intolerable feeling suddenly to be exchanged, rejected, replaced by someone who was apparently better at fulfilling his expectations from life. Which she had not been able to do. And not a word had he spoken about his disappointment. He didn’t even intend to show her respect by explaining, giving her a fair chance to understand what had actually happened.

She turned off the TV and the room became black. She hadn’t even thought to turn on a lamp, although darkness had already fallen.

She sat down in the easy chair in front of the picture window facing the balcony. It was black as coal outside. Not even the moon could manage to light up the garden she had declared dead. She turned on the reading lamp and reached for the book she had started reading before the line in the datebook. It lay unopened in her lap.

It didn’t interest her any more.

Had Linda had a chance to read the email she had sent? She had written the text herself, after all. Eva wondered how they would react when they saw the familiar words, what Henrik would think when he recognised Linda’s declaration of love that he kept behind lock and key in his gun cabinet. Maybe he would suspect something, but how could he ever dare ask? She smiled at the dilemma she had created for him. Well, Henrik, what are you going to do now? When your lawfully wedded, understanding wife and the mother of your son might possibly be your worst enemy.

She looked at her reflection in the black windowpane. Linda’s words had taken up residence, uninvited, in her memory bank, burned their way in like a disfiguring tattoo. She knew that they would haunt her for the rest of her life.

I realise that I am ready to lose everything as long as I can be with you. I love you, your L.

To be allowed to be so loved.

To be allowed to be as loved as Henrik was.

She wondered how he had answered that letter. Whether he suddenly found words that he had never used before, never had any occasion to use. Words which during their entire marriage had been biding their time because they weren’t needed. Words that were too big, too strong and powerful, exaggerated even, but that were finally given the opportunity to break free and be put to use.

To help him maintain and preserve what he had found.

To be allowed to be so loved.

And to dare to let oneself be loved that way.

She closed her eyes when she was forced to admit that what he was experiencing just now was what she had always dreamed of for herself. Real passion. The kind that could go straight through her and force her to let herself go completely, not be able to resist. The kind she had never ever experienced. To be able to love unconditionally and be loved in return without having to perform, be talented, be the best every second of her life. To be the one she really was behind the façade she had so successfully managed to construct, hiding her fear of failure. Of not being good enough. Of being abandoned.

You’re so strong. How many times had she heard those words? She played her role so well that no one ever saw through her, no one ever got to see the other woman hiding in the background. She felt a longing to show all her weaknesses for once without losing everything. And not have to fight to deserve it, to dare to let someone all the way inside without being afraid.

If only someone would say ‘I love you’ to her and mean every syllable of it, and wish there were even greater words because not even ‘I love you’ was sufficient.

She took a breath and opened her eyes. The realisation had given her palpitations. She looked at her face in the black window-pane and was ashamed at her weakness. She was strong and independent and all the rest was nothing but romantic fancy.

And yet.

Was it possible that someone could love her that much?

Out of a sense of duty and guilt, she had not allowed herself to express her secret wish even to herself. Bound by her vows and commitments she had repressed her longing in a shameful corner and barred the door.

Out of loyalty to Henrik.

He was the one she had selected to share her life, the one with whom she had experienced so much. She would never be able to do him such wrong. She had tried to fill her time with work and conversations with friends that might give her everything she knew Henrik couldn’t give her.

All to hold the family together.

Now she sat here, alone.

He had found everything she had dreamed of finding.

And he had lied to her as if their relationship had never existed, she and their life together had never existed, had never been worth a thing.

She sat there for a long time, staring into her own eyes until the face around them was distorted and transformed into the face of a stranger.

And then, suddenly, a movement outside. Something quite close out there passed like a shadow beyond her reflection. The terror came like an electric shock: there was someone standing on the balcony staring in at her. Quickly she turned off the lamp, got up and backed away. The pressure over her chest. It was pitch dark out there, only diffuse shadows from the branches of the trees against the dark sky. She stood with her back to the wall and didn’t dare move. Someone had sneaked round the house, carefully climbed up onto the balcony, and stood there protected by the darkness, looking in at her, standing only a few metres from her and looking straight into her most secret thoughts.

A sudden longing for Henrik. For him to come home.

Cautiously she moved towards the kitchen with her eyes fixed on the black window. She backed away and hurried over to the phone on the kitchen counter and quickly pushed the speed-dial number for his mobile. Two rings, three, four. And then silence, as he turned it off.

Not even the voicemail went on.

She was alone.

Inside the house.

And out there on the balcony, in the pitch-black darkness, stood someone who knew it.