The Cruel Stars of the Night

Thirty-three

It had been several years since Ann Lindell had woken up with a man by her side. The last time was Edvard. Erik’s father had left her in the middle of the night and gone off home to his wife and kids, leaving behind a used pillowcase and a pregnant woman.

If I get pregnant this time it will be a biological miracle, Ann thought and looked at the sleeping Charles. “Challe” he had called himself, and why not?

He was sleeping on his back. His chest was covered with curly hair. She didn’t like hairy men, especially if the back looked like a shag carpet.

They had been lying close together. He had pressed up next to her but had not tried anything. Ann couldn’t decide if it was because she had so explicity declared her position or if he didn’t want to. She finally decided he simply wasn’t horny. It bothered her a little because she had, when the evening began, had a thought in the back of her head that they might hook up. But now she was grateful that there had been nothing more involved than a hug.

Charles had fallen asleep after half an hour. She had not fallen asleep until around three. It was now seven o’clock and she should be more tired. Erik would wake up any second.

“Challe, it’s time.”

So damn ordinary, she thought and couldn’t help smiling at his bewildered expression when he opened his eyes.

“It’s probably best if you leave before Erik wakes up.”

After he had left Ann got in the shower. She had the door open a crack but hoped it would be a while before Erik came shuffling in.

As the water streamed over her body Ann felt her suppressed desire return. She wasn’t sure if she and Charles were going to share a bed again, or if she even wanted to, but the thought that it was actually possible made life feel brighter than in a very long time.

She smiled as she soaped up and thought about what Görel was going to say. That was the best thing: surprising Görel. It felt like restitution.