This Should Be Written in the Present Tense

10

I slept soundly that night. I didn’t hear a peep from the couple in the front room, or from the trains, or the boiler in the utility room next door. It must have kicked in during the night, the place was sweltering when I woke up. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. It was light outside and the sky was blue. I stared emptily at the bark of the old pear tree for a minute, then came another gentle knock on the door and after a second it opened.

‘Morning,’ whispered the girl. ‘Just to say it’s half past eight.’

She was already in her raincoat and her boyfriend was standing behind her with his round, smiling face.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but we made some coffee. Here you go,’ he said, handing me a mug. I jumped out of bed in my nightshirt.

‘Thanks.’

‘We weren’t sure whether to wake you earlier. We thought you might be the kind of person who got ready in no time.’

‘That’s all right,’ I said, and took a slurp. It was really strong. They stood watching me.

‘Sorry, I’m still half asleep,’ I said.

‘We’ll just wait outside in the garden,’ said the girl.

‘It’s a lovely sunny day, it’s not often we get the chance to drink coffee outside in the mornings. Anyway, like she said, it’s only half eight,’ he said.

I could hear them talking in the front garden while I got dressed and tried to do my hair in the hall mirror. I felt hot and drowsy. They spoke in turn, but I couldn’t pick out the words. Once, I lay on a beach all day with the muffled voices of strangers all around me. Later I thought it had been so blissful lying there unnoticed in a hum of conversation. My hair wouldn’t do what I wanted, it stuck out on the side I’d slept on. I patted it down with some water and gathered it in a loose ponytail, then I got my leather jacket and went into the front room for my bag and a book. All the washing had been folded up in a neat pile on the table. The radiator was still on full blast, I turned it down and picked up my key from the chest of drawers, then went outside.

‘Was it five past nine it was due?’ said the girl, and I nodded.

‘Yes. Have you got tickets?’

‘No, we need to get some. Have you got enough money, Lasse?’ she said, and he had, at least almost, they only needed to borrow forty kroner when we got to the station. The train was on time but crowded. We went all the way through from one end to the other, but there were only two seats free that were next to each other.

‘You take it,’ she said to me. ‘I’ll sit on his knee.’

So I sat down by the window, Lasse sat beside me with her on his lap. Their raincoats rustled every time they moved. He blew her hair away from his face. I reached into my bag for my book, opened it, then stared out at the reddening fringe of a wood and some gulls flocking in the fields. A bit later there were rooks and geese, a blue tractor left at a boundary with its door open and a man on his knees in the furrow. I saw him get up and shake his head in resignation, and then we’d gone past. After that nothing, then Ringsted’s array of rooftops.