‘So that’s why you never liked me? Because it was my fault that Pappa left?’
‘That’s idiotic and you know it as well as I do.’
‘No, I don’t know it!’
Her mother took a cemetery candle out of the pocket of her ample coat and angrily began picking off the plastic wrapper. But she didn’t answer.
‘Why do we always have to come here to the grave? It’s been twenty-three years since he died and the only thing we do together is drive here and light those damned candles.’
‘It’s not my fault that you never have time. You’re always working. Or out with your friends. You never have time for me.’
Always, always, whatever she did. Despite the anger that protected her at the moment, she felt the accusations go straight through her. Sparking the guilty conscience that her mother could play like a virtuoso. And she was still not finished. Like the maestro she was she could sense the distinct nuance of change in Monika’s face. And she wasn’t going to waste her chance.
‘You didn’t even grieve for him.’
At first Monika didn’t understand the words.
You didn’t even grieve for him.
Like an echo the words ricocheted around trying to make themselves understood, and each time they were repeated something was shattered. Bit by bit everything came crashing down.
You didn’t even grieve for him.
Her mother’s voice was muffled and she kept her eyes on the candle she was holding in her hand.
‘You just went on as if nothing had happened. If you only knew how I suffered, seeing the way you behaved. Almost as if you thought it was good that he was gone.’
There were no words left. Everything was empty. Her feet started to walk towards the car. All she felt was a genuine wish to get out of earshot.
There were woods on both sides and dusk was approaching. The car was parked by the side of a country road. She looked around nervously and didn’t know where she was or how she had ended up there. She looked at her watch. In fifteen minutes she had promised to eat dinner at Pernilla’s. She turned the car round, guessing that was the right direction to go.
You didn’t even grieve for him.
‘Could you change Daniella? I just have to make the gravy and then we’ll be ready to eat.’
She wanted to go home. Home to her sleeping pills. Lightning was flashing through her head and it was hard to put all the words she heard into context.
‘Could you do it?’
She gave a quick nod and lifted up Daniella. Carried her into the changing table over the bathtub and took off her nappy. Pernilla called from the kitchen.
‘You can put on her red pyjamas afterwards. They’re hanging on one of the hooks.’
She turned her head and caught sight of the red pyjamas. Changed the nappy and did as Pernilla said. On the way back to the kitchen she passed the chest of drawers. The candle had burned down and his face lay in shadow behind the white urn. He said nothing when she passed by, left her in peace.
‘Please help yourself. I’m sure it’s not as good as what you usually serve, I’m not very good at cooking. Mattias cooked most of the time.’
Daniella sat in her high chair and Pernilla put an unsalted biscuit on the mat in front of her. Monika looked at the food on the table. It was going to be impossible to eat anything, but she had to try.
They ate for a while in silence. Monika moved the food about on her plate and occasionally put a tiny bite in her mouth, but her body refused to swallow. Each time she tried it got more difficult.
‘Monika.’
She looked up. Felt herself immediately on guard despite her fatigue and confusion. It was a risk to be here. Now that she had already lost control.
‘I’d like to apologise.’
Monika sat quite still. Pernilla put down her knife and fork and gave Daniella another biscuit before she went on.
‘I know that sometimes I’ve been pretty unpleasant when you’ve been here, but I just couldn’t manage to be polite.’
Monika’s mouth was dry and she had to swallow before she could get any words out.
‘You most certainly have not been unpleasant.’
‘Yes, I have been, but I’ve done the best I could. Sometimes it just gets so hard that I simply can’t bear it.’
Monika put down her knife and fork too. The fewer things she needed to concentrate on the better. She had to try and pull herself together. Focus. Pernilla had just offered to apologise for something. She had to think of something to say.
‘You really don’t need to apologise for anything.’
Pernilla looked down at her plate.
‘I just want you to know I appreciate that you can still stand to come here.’
Monika raised her water glass and took a little sip.
‘After my accident a lot of our friends disappeared. It seemed almost natural, they all just faded away. I always had pain in my back and we didn’t have any money either, and most of our friends were still into scuba diving.’
Monika took another sip. It was almost possible to hide behind the water glass.
‘Now, after what’s happened, I can finally admit that I feel a little disappointed that so few of them bothered to call. All of a sudden it was clear how lonely we’ve been.’
Pernilla looked at her and smiled, almost shyly.
‘So, what I’m trying to say is just that I’m glad we’ve got to know each other. You’ve really been a big help.’
Monika tried to take in what she was hearing. Sensed that this was what she had been striving for the whole time, and she ought to be happy now that she had finally received the proof of her success. Then why did she feel this way? She had to go home. Home to her sleeping pills. But first she had to go to the clinic with Maj-Britt’s samples. When she was sure that everyone had gone home she would go in there and analyse them. Because she had promised. And you have to keep your promises.
She jumped when the telephone rang. Pernilla got up and went into the living room. Monika sneaked over to the rubbish bag under the sink and scraped off her plate with a piece of clingfilm that was lying on the top.
She could hear Pernilla answer the phone in the living room.
‘Pernilla.’
She hid the food underneath an empty milk carton.
‘Well, that’s to be expected, I don’t really know what you want me to say.’
Pernilla’s voice had taken on a hard tone and she was silent for a long time. Monika went back to the table with her plate and used her fork to erase any traces left by the plastic wrap. Then Pernilla spoke again and the words made Monika’s fear surge up through her confusion.
‘Honestly, I wish you wouldn’t call me again. What happened happened, all of it, but I think it’s a bit much to expect me to be consoling you.’
She was apparently interrupted but continued a few seconds later.
‘No, but that’s how it feels. Goodbye.’
Silence. Everything was quiet. Only Monika’s heart refused to adapt itself to the calm. Pernilla reappeared and went to sit down on her chair. At the same moment Monika’s mobile rang. It wasn’t her intention to answer it, as she began to fumble for the handbag by her feet, just to shut off the insistent ringing. She glanced at the display and saw Åse’s name. Her hand shook as she managed to cancel the call. She could feel Pernilla watching her but answered before she could ask the question.
‘It was nothing important. Only my mother, but I can ring her later.’
Pernilla pushed away the plate in front of her even though it was still full of food.
‘It was that woman who drove the car that called me.’
Daniella dropped her biscuit on the floor and Monika gratefully leaned down to pick it up. So she could be out of sight for a second.
‘She was here a few days after the accident too. She came here wanting to apologise or whatever.’