‘It might be a tumour. But as I said,’ she added quickly, ‘I’m not one hundred percent certain.’
A tumour. Cancer. That was a word she had heard on TV many times and it had never passed by entirely unnoticed. But at that moment she realised that when something was mentioned that might possibly exist in her own body, then it felt considerably different. Then the word came alive, transformed into an image of something black and evil inside. It was almost possible to imagine a monster living inside her that swallowed everything in its path and kept growing bigger.
And yet she was not particularly afraid. It was more as if yet another thought she had not dared follow to its conclusion had finally been confirmed. Because why shouldn’t her body have cancer? It would be its last triumph over her futile, lifelong resistance. Lying in ambush and nourishing a growth in order to take its revenge once and for all, to conquer her.
And she realised that she had to know.
‘How is such a procedure done?’
Because in some way she did feel the need to have it confirmed.
The room was utterly silent. Maj-Britt was back in the easy chair. Ellinor leant forward in the sofa with her head in her hands. And in the middle of the room the doctor stood packing up her fancy apparatus which had just reinforced the suspicions that they all clearly shared. Maj-Britt was pleased to confirm that the doctor’s hands were still trembling. For some reason it made her feel better to see that.
‘As far as I could tell the tumour is still contained within the surface of the kidney, but of course we have to do a contrast X-ray to know for sure. From what I saw there were no signs of metastasis, but that also has to be checked. But it was large, so it’s high time to have it removed.’
Maj-Britt felt strangely calm. She looked towards the window again. At the swings that she had looked at for more than thirty years but had never seen up close.
‘And if it’s not removed?’
No one answered, but after a while she heard a little puffing sound from Ellinor.
‘Well, what if it’s not removed?’
Now it was Maj-Britt’s turn to be silent. She had said everything that needed to be said.
‘Maj-Britt, what do you mean by that? You must realise that you have to get rid of it! Isn’t that right, Monika? How long can someone live with that sort of tumour if it isn’t treated?’
‘That’s impossible to answer. I have no idea how long it’s been growing in there.’
‘Well, approximately?’
Ellinor, as usual, was meticulous about details.
‘Six months perhaps. Maybe more, maybe less, it depends on how fast it’s growing. As a doctor I must strongly recommend an operation.’
As a doctor. Maj-Britt snorted to herself.
Ellinor’s mobile rang and she went out into the hall.
Maj-Britt watched the woman who was very carefully packing up her fancy apparatus.
Six months.
Maybe.
It was hard to tell, she had said.
‘You doctors, it’s your job to do everything you can to save other people’s lives.’
She didn’t really know why she said that, but she couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was to strip off a little of the officiousness that the doctor radiated. Like goodness personified she stood there pretending to be at the service of all humanity. But she was careful to conceal her own dark secrets; underneath that impeccable surface brooded the same dirty mistakes and shortcomings that all mortals possessed.
Maj-Britt read her reaction at once and it made her want to hammer in the spike a little deeper.
‘To make people live as long as possible, remain here on earth with their families and get to see their children grow up. That’s probably what you doctors are here for. There’s probably nothing that could be more important to you.’
Ellinor was standing in the doorway again.
The doctor bent down and snapped her bag shut, and Maj-Britt saw that she had to brace herself on the arm of the sofa when she stood up. A quick motion with her hand so she wouldn’t lose her balance. Without looking in Maj-Britt’s direction she went out into the hall. Maj-Britt could just make out a terse conversation.
‘Unfortunately there’s nothing more I can do until you contact her care centre and go through the required process. They’ll arrange the referrals to the hospital for further investigation.’
The front door was opened and Ellinor’s last words echoed between the stone walls in the stairwell.
‘Thanks for all your help.’
And then the door was closed.
Ellinor stayed on an extra hour even though she had several clients waiting. Maj-Britt didn’t say much, but Ellinor’s gift of the gab reached new heights in a desperate attempt to convince Maj-Britt to give her permission to ring the care centre. But Maj-Britt didn’t want to. She didn’t intend to suffer through any more examinations, not to mention any operations.
Why should she?
Why should she co-operate at all?
No matter how painful it was to admit, she couldn’t for the life of her come up with anything that was even close to resembling a reason.
29
The woman was a monstrosity. As if she had stepped right out of a horror film. It must be to punish her that fate had set this repulsive woman in Monika’s path. It was as though her sharp eyes could see straight through her, see right into her, and for some reason that Monika did not understand, the woman was intent on doing her harm.
She had driven the shortest way home and gone straight into the bathroom without even taking off her coat or boots. There she had swallowed two Zopax tablets. She had written herself a prescription for them at the same time as the sleeping pills but hadn’t taken any before.
But she could no longer stand it.
She went into the living room and wandered about, waiting for the pills to take effect. Each second, each instant. It was no longer possible to escape. It was as if there was no room in her body, and at any moment her skin might start to shatter. A feeling that she was about to burst.
And then there was her phone. It kept ringing and ringing, and the noise drove her crazy, but she didn’t dare turn it off. It was proof that there was a functioning reality somewhere, and if she completely cut off contact with it she didn’t know where she might end up. She just couldn’t understand how everything had come to this or what she had to do to put it all right again.
At last.
At last she felt the anxiety loosen its grip, pull in its barbs and dissolve. Letting her breathe. Gratefully she stood in the middle of the room and welcomed the sense of liberation. Stockholm white. That was the colour of the living-room walls. It was odd that in this town it was all right to have Stockholm white on the walls. Almost reassuring in some way. That anything was possible. Just breathe. Breathe calmly and quietly. Nothing else is important. She just had to go and lie down for a bit on the sofa and take time to breathe.
Red brick walls. A cellar. She was in a cellar, but she didn’t know whose. She couldn’t see a door anywhere. She felt with her hands across the rough wall to find a crack or some sign of an opening, but there was none. Suddenly she knew that there was a dead body sealed up inside the wall, she didn’t know who it was but she knew she was the one who had walled it in there. She heard a sound and turned round. Her mother was kneeling and planting an orchid. She had a piece of bread in her hand, which she crumbled up and threw across the floor. Columba livia. They’re best with chanterelles. And then a train was coming. Pernilla stood in the middle of the tracks and the train whistle grew louder. Monika ran as fast as she could but she never got any closer; she wouldn’t be able to save her. She had to make the ringing stop, had to make it stop. Make it stop.