Betrayal

If only she hadn’t.

So many ‘if only she hadn’t’s. So many that it was no longer possible to see when the first one occurred.

They sat in complete silence. He didn’t ask where she wanted to go and she didn’t wonder where he was headed. Just leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. A silent zone where she was not subject to accusations.

She didn’t open her eyes until the car stopped and the engine was turned off. A cul-de-sac. Some parked cars. Blocks of flats. She remembered the last time she was here.

With an effort of will she turned her head and looked at him. Took in his warm smile and lowered her eyes, let her gaze settle on his hands resting on the steering wheel. She remembered their clumsiness, his fumbling fingers running over her body; she was amazed that he had even dared.

Again an ‘if only she hadn’t’.

‘Thanks for the lift.’

She made a move to open the door. The exhaustion felt like an ache in her joints, a physical plea not to have to move.

‘Wouldn’t you like to come in for a while?’

She let her hand rest on the door handle as she searched for an answer. There was anticipation in his voice, and that was more than she could bear. She opened the car door and the cold that struck her reminded her that she had no jacket. Or money.

She had nothing.

‘I have some pear cider at my place. Won’t you come in and have a glass? To be honest, you look like you could use it. Then I can drive you wherever you like later.’

Wherever you like. Where was that? Was there such a place?

If only she hadn’t.

The whole past chain of events was linked by the ‘if only she hadn’t’s.

But the first link in the chain was Henrik’s. The betrayal. His cowardice. The rage he had directed at her. His lack of consideration.

Kerstin’s judgement echoed in her mind. One must always take responsibility for one’s actions. What did Kerstin know about how Henrik had acted towards her? What he had done to provoke her crime. The impotence she felt. But she would never get the chance to defend herself. Not before any of those who thought they had the right to judge her. The verdict had been handed down and the sentence passed.

Pariah.

But what about Henrik? Didn’t any part of the blame fall on him? Because he was the one who had prompted the whole chain of ‘what if she hadn’t’s.

He got out of the car and she saw through the windscreen that he was walking towards her open door. When he got there he held out his hand to her.

‘Come on now. Just a glass of pear cider. That’s all.’

So tired, through and through. All the way into her marrow. If only she could just follow along, not have to make any decisions.

‘Just a glass of pear cider?’

He smiled and nodded.

‘Just a glass of pear cider.’

She refused his outstretched hand and got out of the car, moving past him. He let his arm hover in the air a bit too long before he slowly let it drop, closed her door and fetched a plastic bag from the boot.

‘Come on.’

He started towards the door of his building. Maybe she was angry when she refused his hand; she didn’t mean to seem unpleasant, she just didn’t want to give him any ideas, not a single hope of anything more than what they had agreed. A glass of pear cider. Nothing more. That’s what he had said and she had accepted.

He turned on the light in the stairwell and showed her in with a gentlemanly gesture, inviting her to go first. He followed a few steps behind. She was filled by a slight uneasiness at his presence, well aware that he had her rear end in his view. She felt exposed and open to his eyes, which could look at whatever they liked. She leaned her back against the wall as he unlocked the door. Four locks.

The last time. The nervousness she felt and how she had pressed herself against him to conceal it. How the images of Henrik and Linda had made her conquer her distaste.

Five days ago.

She stopped inside the door, heard him stick a key in one of the locks and turn it. And then the rattle of the keyring to lock the others and the rustle of the plastic bag he had taken out of the boot.

And she suddenly recalled that he thought her name was Linda. That her camouflage back then had made her brave enough to fulfil her intentions.

If only she hadn’t.

Yet another one.

But now there was no reason why she should reveal her real name. It would just provoke questions that she didn’t want to answer.

‘Welcome. Welcome back, I should say.’

She wasn’t back. The woman who stood before him was here for the first time.

She looked down at her shoes as if it were an impossible task to bend down and take them off. He followed her gaze, knelt down and carefully pulled down the zippers on the inside of her ankles. He placed her hand on his shoulder so she could lean on him as he pulled off her shoes. He held her right foot in his hand for a moment too long, and she could suddenly hear his breathing. She couldn’t put up any resistance, just stood there with her hand on his shoulder and let him hold her right foot. She shouldn’t be here. She ought to leave. But where could she go? And how could she find the energy?

He stood up, gently touched her elbow, led her into the little kitchen and sat her down on one of the chairs. She watched him take two steps over to the refrigerator and caught a glimpse of its contents when he opened it. All three shelves filled with recumbent cider bottles. He took out two, pulled his key chain out of his pocket, and opened them with a red bottle opener squeezed in between the keys. Then he stood with the bottles in his hands, cocked his head to one side and looked at her.

‘How are you doing, anyway?’

She couldn’t say a word.

‘I don’t have a sofa, but you can sit on the bed in there instead. I mean if you want to be a bit more comfortable, that’s all. You look like you need a rest. I can sit on the floor.’

‘I’m fine here.’

He sat down on the chair on the other side of the fold-down table, leaned forward and handed her one of the bottles of cider.

‘Cheers. Once again.’

He smiled and she raised the bottle and drank.

‘That’s the kind you like, isn’t it?’

She read the label on the bottle. Couldn’t tell if this one tasted either better or worse than those she had tasted before.

‘Sure.’

‘Imagine running into each other again like this. It’s really too wild to be just a coincidence, it almost feels like it means something, as if it was fate.’

She couldn’t come up with any good answer but smiled a little so she wouldn’t seem rude.

For a while they sat in silence. Then he got up and went over to the small kitchen counter, picked up the dishrag and wiped off the stainless steel surface. He rubbed it intently and kept checking to see whether the spot was gone.

‘Can you tell me what happened?’

He rinsed out the dishrag and wrung it out, rinsed it again and repeated the procedure one more time before he folded it in thirds and hung it over the tap.

‘Why you’re out walking without a jacket, for example, and where you were going?’

He straightened the dishrag and moved it a few centimetres out on the tap.

She took a gulp from the bottle.

‘If you don’t mind, I just can’t talk about it.’

She had no obligations to him. No duty to share anything with him. On the contrary. If she told him, the free zone she had found would be eradicated, he would join the jury and judge her.

Linda in intensive care. If she pulls through we’re going to ask her to keep working here.

If she pulls through.

She took another drink, looking for respite in intoxication.

He stood completely still with his back to her. Then he suddenly turned around.

‘You can take a bath if you like.’

She didn’t answer, but felt her suspicions awaken at once.

He put down the bottle on the table.

‘You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll run the bath for you and sit out here and relax. I think it would be nice for you to take a bath; you of all people certainly deserve to rest a little.’

Then he was gone, and she heard the sound of running water.

She had no intention of taking off her clothes in the flat, but in the bathroom she could lock herself in and then she wouldn’t have to answer any questions. Wouldn’t have to talk at all. And she’d have a chance to think. Maybe she could ring Sara or Gerd at work and ask if she could stay overnight, figure out some plausible explanation.

His voice from the bathroom and then suddenly the familiar aroma.

‘I’ve bought new bubble bath too. Eucalyptus.’

The same that she had in her bathroom at home. Which was a present from Axel. She took it as a sign, gave up struggling and allowed herself to relax.

He had good intentions.

And that’s what she needed right now.

She took the last gulp from the bottle and heard the water turned off in the bathtub. Then he appeared in the doorway.

‘Your bath is ready.’

He smiled and gestured towards the bathroom, but noticed that her bottle was empty. At once he was at the refrigerator to fetch a new one. She stood up, and he made a move to touch her forearm to lead her once again, but he caught himself and withdrew. Perhaps out of consideration, perhaps he wanted to show that she was safe, that he had no ulterior motives.

She took the new bottle and went into the hall towards the open bathroom door. The bathtub was filled to the brim and the white bubbles were crackling invitingly. Her mood was improving. She could use a little rest.

‘Here’s a towel for you.’

He handed her a light-blue bath towel. Carefully folded, edge to edge, to the last centimetre. She took it and put it on the toilet seat. The towel reluctantly unfolded but the creases left deep traces in the terrycloth. She turned to him. He was standing in the doorway. She made no move to start undressing, and he clearly understood her unspoken demand.

‘Enjoy yourself now, and don’t hurry. Take all the time you want.’

‘Thank you.’

He backed out and pulled the door shut; she turned the lock until the white half-moon turned to red. Then she slowly took off her clothes and sank down through the foam with the bottle on the edge of the tub. A calm began to spread over her. The cider had done its job.

It was Nacka that was the problem. She had to get away. She could already sense how she felt free having left the boundaries of the town. Here she could breathe again. She could think clearly enough to realise that even if she had done wrong, the guilt was not hers alone. There was a reason for her actions. What if they sold the house and she moved into the city, let Axel start at a new pre-school where no one knew them?

She took another gulp.

Things would work out. There was still a future.

‘Is the bath nice?’

His voice just outside the door.

‘Yes, it is. Thanks.’

Just when she thought he had left, he said something else. He sounded even closer now, as if his mouth were right next to the crack in the door.

‘I don’t mean you any harm, on the contrary. You know that, don’t you?’

A pang of uneasiness in the midst of the soothing bath foam.

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

She had just settled back again and closed her eyes when she heard the sound. She turned her head and saw the red half-moon turn until it was white, and the next moment he was standing in the open doorway. She sank down as deep as she could to cover herself with the bubbles.

‘I would like to be left in peace in here, please.’

He smiled at her.

‘You are at peace in here.’

He picked up the bath towel and placed it on his lap as he sat down on the toilet seat.

‘I mean alone.’

He smiled again, sadly this time, as if she didn’t know what was good for her.

‘Haven’t you been alone long enough?’

She suddenly felt afraid. Wanted to get up and leave the flat. But not as long as he could see her.

‘Why do you look so scared? I already know how beautiful you are. You’ve already showed me once, and how could I ever forget?’

‘I said that we were just going to drink a pear cider.’

‘That’s right. And now we’ve drunk two of them. And you can have just as many as you like. I bought them for you.’

There was nothing threatening about him, he radiated nothing but genuine goodwill. And yet there was something that told her she ought to get out of here, get away as fast as she could.

‘Wait a minute and I’ll give you something beautiful to wear after you’re done with your bath.’

He stood up.

‘That’s not necessary, I’ll wear my own clothes.’

‘You’re worth something more beautiful than those.’

He snatched up her clothes and took the bath towel with him as he vanished into the hall. As quickly as she could, she got up and grabbed the guest hand towel. She had to get out of here. The bath foam slid around on her skin as if the hand towel were waterproof.

Then he was back in the doorway.

She tried to hide herself as best she could.

He stopped in mid-stride and stood there quite still. As if he had forgotten she was in there and now he saw her for the first time. Embarrassed, he lowered his eyes when he saw her nakedness.

‘Excuse me.’

‘Give me the towel.’

With infinite slowness his gaze moved closer and closer. Along the floor and across the bath mat, then up the bathtub, across tile after tile his eyes made their way towards her. When they reached her naked body which she was so desperately trying to hide behind the tiny towel, she saw undisguised admiration in his face. A gasp when his eyes reached her thighs and slowly swept across the towel to meet the skin again above her breasts.

‘God, how beautiful you are.’

His voice was shaking.

‘Give me the towel!’

Her sharp words jolted his gaze away and he again stared down at the floor. Then he put something down on the toilet seat, backed out and closed the door behind him.

She quickly got out of the tub and tried to dry herself as best she could.

‘Give me my clothes!’

‘It’s on the toilet seat.’

She jumped at the closeness of his voice, his mouth sounded like it was pressed against the door outside.

She snatched whatever it was he had put on the seat. Never in her life. Lined and made of a glossy fabric with tufts in the most worn places.

An old flowery dressing gown.

‘I want my clothes!’

‘Do you have to sound so angry? They’re soaking in the sink. Put on the dressing gown now and come out, then we’ll talk about all this.’

His voice was still very close to her.

There was something wrong with him, she had no doubt about that. But how dangerous was he, how scared did she need to be? All she knew with certainty was that she wanted to get out of here, and now she had no clothes. And no one in the entire world would be looking for her. And even if someone actually was trying to find her, nobody knew where she was. She had to leave the bathroom. Go out and talk to him. But to ‘talk about all this’ seemed like a contradiction. They had absolutely nothing to do with each other, and that’s precisely what she had to make him realise.

Disgusted, she looked at the dressing gown. There was a brown ring of dirt around the inside of the collar. Then she managed to get the better of her repugnance and put it on, trying to ignore the odour of age-old filth and a musty wardrobe.

She put her hand on the door handle and took a deep breath.

‘I’m coming out now.’

Not a sound was heard from outside.

She cautiously opened the door a crack. It was dark out there, the hall light was turned off. Out of pure impulse she turned off the bathroom light so she could disappear in the darkness. She opened the door a bit more and when she looked out she saw the glow of a candle from the room. She cast a glance at the front door, well aware that she had heard the keys being turned in all four of the locks. Keys that now lay in the pocket of his trousers.

She took a step towards the candlelight. Everything was quiet. Then she stopped. One more step and she would be visible to him through the doorway. The sudden sound of his voice made her jump.

‘Come.’

She didn’t move from the spot.

‘Please, come. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

‘What is it you want? Why can’t I have my clothes?’

‘Of course you’ll get your clothes, but they’re wet right now. Come in here and we can talk a bit while they dry.’

What choice did she have? She took the last step and looked into the room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. From her feet in the doorway where she stood and over to his feet by the bed, an avenue of votive candles. A planned path along the floor which all too obviously visualised his expectations. She was just about to protest and explain that no matter what had happened the last time she was there, it was never going to happen again. But then she saw his face and stopped short. It wasn’t her he was looking at, not her eyes he sought. He was looking at the flowered dressing gown. And suddenly, utterly without warning, his face was distorted in a grimace and his whole body shrank, collapsed. He looked away and she saw that he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. Her confusion was absolute. What was it he actually wanted?

She didn’t say a word. Just stood there in the doorway watching him, and his whole bearing revealed a failed attempt to defend himself from her unwelcome stare. He sobbed a couple of times and sat looking down at the floor, rubbing his hand over his face. Then he hesitantly glanced at her again, timid and embarrassed.

‘Forgive me.’

She didn’t reply. She realised in the midst of it all that the room had changed. The walls were bare but with black dots from the nail holes where the strange paintings had hung.

He looked down at the floor and the votive candles again.

‘I haven’t dared to light candles for several years, but then I bought some in case you were here.’

He uttered the words like an awkward confession, as naked before her as she had been before him in the bathroom. As if he wanted to reveal himself in return, as an excuse for his intrusion. Her fear dropped away. He had merely read the wrong signals when she came home with him. And could she actually blame him? He had naturally believed that she would call. That their night together was a prelude. Seen her as a possibility.

What if she stayed for a little while and made him realise that she wasn’t, that what had happened was a mistake and that she hadn’t meant to hurt him? He wasn’t dangerous, he had only fallen in love and forgotten to find out if she felt the same way.

‘Why haven’t you lit candles for years?’

An attempt at conversation. Approach cautiously and gradually get him to understand.

He looked at her and smiled slightly.

‘There is so much you don’t know about me, that I haven’t managed to tell you yet.’

Wrong track. She had to try and be crystal clear from the beginning.

He beat her to it before she could start over.

‘I would like to ask you a favour.’

‘What kind of favour?’

He swallowed.

‘I would like you to come and sit next to me while you have that on.’

She looked down at the disgusting dressing gown.

‘Why is that?’

He hesitated a long time before continuing, she could see that the words came from deep inside him, that he had to muster his courage to speak his request.

‘I just want you to let me put my head in your lap for a while.’

Almost inaudible. Embarrassed and with his eyes looking down at his hands in his lap.

It was impossible to be afraid of anyone so pitiful. She might as well tell him the truth right away so she could get out of there.

‘I can understand that you may have thought that I, or that we, when we . . . Well, it wasn’t that it was bad or anything like that, but what happened was a mistake, I was drunk and not thinking. Maybe you hoped we would see each other again, but it’s better that I just tell you the truth. I’m married.’

He sat expressionless. His lack of reaction encouraged her to continue. Why hadn’t she told him the truth from the start? She of all people should know that honesty worked best.

‘Maybe I could borrow some clothes from you and then I’ll send them back later. My husband will worry if I don’t come home soon.’

‘Why should he?’

His voice was suddenly hard and cold. All goodwill gone.

‘Of course he’ll be worried if I don’t come home.’

She could hear the new tone in her own voice. More cautious now.

He shrugged his shoulders.

‘That depends, of course, on what type of marriage you have. Whether you love each other or not. Or if you make a habit of being unfaithful.’

Hurt. Proud and hurt. A dangerous combination. She had to proceed more carefully, his temporary vulnerability had thrown her off the track.

‘I don’t make a habit of being unfaithful. With you was the first time.’

He snorted.

‘What an honour.’

Shit. Wrong again. She had to choose her words better. He was like a minefield.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way. I mean, we’re two grown people. We were kind to each other for a while.’

‘You mean I was kind to you for a while, don’t you? You used me as consolation when your husband at home wasn’t doing his part any more, right? Or was it to make him jealous, or did you want revenge for something?’

She stood silent.

‘Where in the midst of everything did you think that I would wind up, after you had used me?’

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t think of any other reason than that every single person takes responsibility for his own life, but right now she didn’t think she had the right to say those words. Everything had broken down. She had to get out of there.

‘I told you I made a mistake. What more can I say than I’m sorry?’

‘And your husband? Do you love him?’

No.

‘Yes.’

‘And if he were unfaithful to you? What would you do then?’

She swallowed.

‘I’m not sure. I would probably try to forgive him. Everybody makes mistakes.’

His eyes narrowed.

‘Nobody who betrays someone deserves to be forgiven. A betrayal can never be forgiven, will never be forgotten, it stays inside like an open wound. Something is torn apart and can never again be made whole.’

She wasn’t the only one in the room who knew how it felt, that was quite obvious. But she had no desire to share her own experiences with him.

He went on.

‘If there was a man who loved you above all else, who was ready to do anything for you, who would solemnly promise that he would never betray you, that he would always be there for you, standing by your side, would you love him in return?’

She swallowed again and looked down at the floor, fixing her eyes on one of the candles.

‘That’s not exactly how love works, is it?’

‘Then how does it work?’

‘It goes wherever it wants. It’s not something you can control. If you fall in love, then you fall in love.’

‘Is it that simple? Can’t a person do anything to make love grow or make it last?’

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

‘You don’t think so?’

‘I don’t know. I’m no expert.’

‘But what exactly is a betrayal? And why does it hurt so much if you know that the person betraying you can’t even help it? That love has just gone where it wants.’

Her weary brain made a brave attempt to follow his logic. ‘The betrayal is the fact that someone lies. That the one you trust is lying right to your face.’

‘So if he goes to bed with someone else and admits it, then it’s OK?’

‘Of course not.’

‘But it should be OK. He can’t decide for himself if he wants to fall in love or not, you said that yourself. So if he confesses then everything would have to be all right, wouldn’t it?’

She sighed.

‘It’s one thing to fall in love, but quite another what you do about it.’

‘So the fact that he loves someone else is not a betrayal?’

She was starting to get really irritated by his questions. Get a life, then you’ll see how easy it is.

‘I don’t know. Can I borrow some clothes now?’

‘So you think that if someone stops loving the one he ought to love, then it’s best not to say anything? Just keep going as usual and pretend everything is the way it should be?’

She didn’t answer.

‘Isn’t that a kind of betrayal too? That the one you think loves you is really just staying with you out of duty and consideration?’

She looked down at the floor again.

He went on. ‘What about all the people who actually live their whole lives together and are happy? If it’s like you say it is, they were just lucky. It didn’t have anything to do with how they actually behaved?’

When she didn’t answer he stood up and went over to the window. Stood there with his back to her. Then he gave a heavy sigh and went back and sat down.

‘So you don’t think it’s possible to learn to love another person, decide to love him and then do one’s best?’

‘No. I don’t believe that.’

Now he had got his answer. Now she wanted to leave.

He sat with his head bowed and his hands in his lap. So naïve. He thought that he loved her, he didn’t even know her, didn’t even know her name.

‘Please, can I borrow some clothes now?’

Slowly he looked up at her again. The disappointment in his face was obvious.

‘Are you in such a hurry to leave?’

In silence their eyes met. She gave up, turned and went out to the kitchen; he hadn’t been lying, he had really put her clothes to soak in the sink.

Fucking idiot.

She met him in the hall on her way back. In his outstretched hands he held a pair of folded jeans and a red college pullover. She took them gratefully.

‘Thanks. I’ll send them back later.’

He made no comment. Merely nodded towards the bathroom.

‘You can change in there.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Just one thing.’

Her only thought was to leave.

‘I’d be happy to give you a lift somewhere if you like, but there’s something I’d really like to show you before we leave. Maybe you might consider doing this for me, as a sort of farewell. It will only take a couple of minutes.’

Anything, as long as he unlocked the door afterwards.

‘Of course. What is it?’

‘It’s outside.’

Even better.

She went into the bathroom and changed. She heard him rattling his keys in the front door and hurried as best she could. He had a jacket and shoes on when she came out, and she quickly bent down and pulled hers on. He stood quietly inside the front door with the plastic bag he had taken from the boot of the car in his hand.

‘Are you ready?’

She nodded.

‘And you promise I can show you this?’

She nodded again.

‘Cross your heart?’

‘Yes.’

Let me out now, for God’s sake!

He went out in the stairwell and turned on the light. He pushed in the light button four times although the lights went on after the first one, and then locked the top lock. Then back to the light button to press it again before he locked the second one. She watched in astonishment the strange procedure and at the same time took the opportunity to wonder where he was taking her. Everything would have been much easier if she at least had her wallet.

They went down the stairs in silence. She first, he following. On the ground floor he passed her and she saw how he pulled down the sleeve of his jumper as protection before he touched the handle of the front door.

Then they were outside.

‘It’s down here, just below the common.’

She hesitated. A path leading into the woods.

‘You promised.’

Something in his tone made her realise that she had better keep her promise.

‘What is it?’

‘You’ll see. But it’s something really beautiful.’

They started walking. The path sloped down and soon she glimpsed water between the trees. He didn’t say a word. Just below the common, he had said, but their walk was a good bit longer. She was just about to protest, plead that it was too cold, but didn’t.

‘Here. It’s over here.’

A house and a sign but it was too dark to see what it said. An iron gate and a chain-link fence around it. He turned off the walking path, went over to the fence and raised it so there was about half a metre’s room between the ground and the bottom of the fence. He nodded to her to crawl under it.

‘Can we really go in here?’

‘There’s no danger, I’ve been here plenty of times. Don’t worry about getting dirt on those jeans.’

She didn’t want to, but she had promised. If she refused now, she’d have to walk back to town. She sighed, got down on all fours and crawled under the fence, stood up and brushed off her knees.

He followed.

She looked around. Boats covered by tarpaulins. ‘No trespassing.’ The sign was readable now: ‘Årstadals Boat Club’.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Just out on the wharf over there. The one on the right.’

It was cold without a jacket and she shivered as they made their way through the boats to reach the wharf. Then they went out on the pier and she did as he said, followed it to the right. He was right behind her. When she reached the end of the pier she stopped and looked around. The woods to her right, to her left the island of Södermalm across the water.

She turned around.

‘What was it you wanted to show me?’

He gazed out across the black water, as if he wanted to draw out his answer as long as possible.

‘Something you have never seen or experienced before.’

‘And what’s that?’

She felt impatient now. Impatient and freezing.

He stood completely still. Then he placed his hand over his heart.

‘Here.’

‘Come on now, stop it. I want to go now. If you don’t intend to give me a lift then I’ll walk.’

A furrow between his eyebrows.

‘Why are you always in such a hurry?’

‘I’m freezing.’

She regretted the words at once, they could be taken as an invitation to warm her up.

He looked out over the water again.

‘I’m going to show you what real love is.’

And then his eyes back to hers.

‘If you have time for it.’

This was starting to feel unpleasant, but her irritation was greater than her fear.

‘But I’ve already explained that I’m married. I thought we were finished talking about that.’

‘You understand that real love is when you love someone so much that you’re prepared to do anything to get the one you love.’

‘Oh please . . .’

He interrupted her.

‘That’s how much I love you.’

‘You don’t even know me. You have no idea who I am. And whatever you say, you can’t force me to love you, it doesn’t work that way. I love my husband.’

Suddenly he looked sad.

‘All I want is for you to be happy. Why can’t you let me make you happy?’

‘I really have to go now.’

He took a step to the side and blocked her way. She tried to pass him on the other side but he blocked her again.

Her uneasiness was growing stronger and she realised that it was best to admit it.

‘You’re scaring me.’

He smiled sadly and shook his head.

‘How can you be afraid of me? I’ve told you that I love you. He, on the other hand, the one you’re in such a hurry to go home to . . . Why don’t you just let him go? Or even better, tell him to go to hell.’

She rubbed her arms to try and warm up.

‘Because I love him, that’s why.’

He sighed.

‘How can someone like you love a man like that? You deserve someone so much better. And Eva, if you want to be completely honest with yourself, deep inside you know that he doesn’t love you any more.’

A sudden jolt through her body.

Eva? What the hell. Eva?

‘How . . .’

She couldn’t find words to formulate the question. Everything had suddenly changed.

‘It’s so sad to see a woman like you believe that you have to be like Linda to be loved. That you even use her name. Linda is a whore, she’s nothing compared to you.’

She stood mute. Mute and suddenly robbed of all frame of reference. Who was this man in front of her? How could he know? She was scared now, really scared, robbed of all control. Every cell in her body signalled that she had to defend herself. That he was a greater threat than she could ever have imagined.

‘How could you be so stupid to believe that some roses had made him change. I know how jerks like that operate.’

He lifted the plastic bag he had brought with him and emptied it over her head. Instinctively she put her hands up in front of her face to shield herself. She felt the contents fall over her and all around her. And then the smell. She looked down at her feet. Twenty red roses. Cut off and stolen from her coffee table.

She stared at him, terror-stricken.

‘Now, on the other hand, now you are receiving them out of true love. But I, I who truly love you, love you for who you are, I’m not even allowed to rest my head for a while on your lap.’

She looked around. Water on all sides. Not a person to be seen. A train passed by on the bridge far off behind him. The sounds of the city. All quite close but out of reach.

‘I wanted to give you time to understand that you can trust me. That I will always be there for you. I’ve already got to know Axel, so it wouldn’t have been any problem if we just took it easy in the beginning. But you don’t want to. You’re forcing me to prove how much I love you.’

She backed up a step, felt with her foot behind her and realised that she was dangerously close to the edge. Then he took a step towards her, put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

‘I love you.’

She never felt the fall. Only an icy cold surrounding her and pressing all the air out of her lungs. Her body came up to the surface and took a deep gasping breath, with a furious will to survive. She reached out for the pier but couldn’t find it. In the next moment something closed around her body and pulled her down, down below the surface. With all her strength she struggled to keep her head above water, arms flailing as she tried to defend herself against the weight. Then she suddenly felt his lips on hers, his tongue pressing into her mouth. His legs clamped her in an iron grip and pressed her down, down into the darkness, down in the icy cold. Time did not exist. Only the terror of everything unfinished, that it was all too late now. Then she felt her resistance start to fade, how she slowly but surely yielded to his will and gave in.

Silence. And in the silence she heard more than she had ever heard before.

A boundless silence. Behind her, in front of her, all around.

She willingly surrendered herself to the peace that surrounded her.

Finally.

She didn’t have to fight any longer.

Everything was good.