Burned

Chapter 9

The reporters try to squeeze in more questions, but are brusquely dismissed by the uniformed trio and the reporters file out. Henning is hemmed in by people he doesn’t want to be near, someone shoves him in the back, he bumps into a woman in front of him, he mutters an apology and desperately longs for more space and greater distances.

They spill out into the foyer and he looks for Iver Gundersen. This would have been easier, if he knew what Gundersen looked like; there are at least fifty journalists present. Henning decides to find Vidar from NTB and ask him, but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Nora appears in his field of vision. And he in hers.

He stops. They can’t avoid talking to each other now.

He takes a tentative step towards her, she mimics him. They stop a few metres apart. Eyes meet eyes. All he can see is a face which contains a multitude of sentences that have never been uttered.

‘Hi, Henning.’

Her voice is like a blast of icy wind. The ‘hi’ rises in pitch and the ‘Henning’ drops. He senses she is speaking to a creature that has done her a severe injustice, but to whom she is forced to relate. He says ‘hi’ to her. She hasn’t changed, but he spots her grief just behind her eyelids, from where it could erupt at any moment.

Nora is shorter than most women and she tries to compensate for this by wearing high heels. She has short hair. Not like a boy, it is not ultra-short at the back, but her fringe is high up her forehead. She used to have long hair, but the short style suits her. The last time he saw her, she was ashen. Now her skin and her face glow. He suspects it might have something to do with Corduroy. The glow suits her.

Christ, how it suits her.

Many expressions inhabit Nora’s face. When she is frightened, she opens her mouth, her teeth show and she closes her eyes slightly. When she is angry, she raises her eyebrows, she frowns and her lips narrow. And when she smiles, her whole face explodes, it widens, and you have to smile with her. Change is weird, he thinks. Once, he couldn’t imagine life without her. Now, it would be hard to live with her.

‘You’re here?’ he says, failing to disguise his nerves which choke him.

Nora simply replies: ‘Yes.’

‘Had enough of business?’

She tilts her head to the left, then to the right.

‘I needed a change after — ’

She breaks off. He is relieved that she doesn’t finish the sentence. He has an overwhelming urge to go to her, to embrace her, but turning thought into action is out of the question. There is an invisible wall between them and only Nora can break it down.

‘So — so you’re back then?’ she says.

‘My first day today,’ he says and tries to smile. She studies his face. It’s as if she focuses on the areas where the flames did their worst, but doesn’t think it’s bad enough. He sees Corduroy behind her. He is watching them. I hope you’re jealous, you tosser.

‘How are you, Nora,’ Henning says, though he doesn’t actually want to know. He doesn’t want to hear that she is happy again, that — at last — she can face the future with hope. He knows he can never win her back; That Which He Doesn’t Think About will never go away. All the same, he doesn’t want her to be lost to him.

‘I’m good,’ she says.

‘You still living in Sagene?’

She hesitates. Then she says: ‘Yes.’

He nods, sensing she is trying to protect him against something. He doesn’t want to know what it is, though he has an inkling. And then it comes.

‘You might as well know now, and it’s best that you hear it from me,’ she starts. He takes a deep breath, puts up a steel barrier which melts the moment she says:

‘I’m seeing someone.’

He looks at her and nods. He thinks that it ought not to hurt, but he can feel his stomach lurch.

‘We’ve been together for six months now.’

‘Mm.’

She looks at him again. For the first time in a long time, there is warmth in her eyes. But it’s the wrong kind. It’s the warmth of pity.

‘We’re thinking of moving in together.’

He says ‘mm’ again.

‘I hope you’re okay,’ he then adds.

She doesn’t reply; all she gives him is a cautious nod. It’s good to see her smile, but he realises he can’t take much more of this, so he employs the only defence mechanism he has and changes the subject.

‘You wouldn’t happen to know who Iver Gundersen is?’ he says. ‘I’ve never met the man, but I think we’ll be working together.’

Nora looks away.

He should have guessed it when he saw how awkward it was for her to tell him she had met a new man. But why should it? She has moved on, slammed the lid on their shared past. The future is where it’s happening. She sighs and he realises why, when she turns to Corduroy.

‘Iver Gundersen is my new boyfriend.’