C H A P T E R 2 2
The collision with his dog sent him reeling against the wall with a bang. He rubbed the tender spot on the back of his head. Listened for any sound in his flat. Was she still dressed? Was she smoking hash?
It was comforting to hear that she was talking to someone on the phone. To a female friend, no doubt. She was giggling like a girl. He tried to restrain the dancing dog and hung up his jacket. Went to the kitchen and washed his hands. Opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Kollberg came into the room and stood to attention. I'm standing perfectly still, said his dark canine eyes, I'm not whining or begging, I'm just slobbering like crazy. Sejer took out some food and set it on the counter. Two cold sausages covered with plastic. Hardboiled eggs. A roll filled with something, maybe stewed fruit. He whispered "sit" to the dog and waved a sausage. I need to contact the district nurse, he thought. Irma Funder needs attention. Possibly she should even be hospitalised.
"No, are you mad?" he heard from the living room. "Tell me more. All the details." And then she giggled again. He took the paw the dog offered him and handed over the sausage. Sliced some bread and cut up the eggs. Sprinkled them with salt.
"That's exactly what I don't like. I like to play," he heard.
He pricked up his ears. Who was she talking to?
"With the light on. Of course. Do you think I'm ashamed? No, I'm not 20 years old, I'm old enough to be your mother."
Sejer stood there with a jar of mayonnaise in his hand, as if frozen, and now he was listening in earnest. She must not have heard him come in. But of course she had, Kollberg always made such a racket that you could hear it several floors below.
"But greed is exciting, I agree with you about that. But not always. Oh yes. Absolutely."
Sejer picked up the other sausage. His confusion prompted a trace of sadism. He started swinging the sausage out of Kollberg's reach. The dog tried to work out what the game was. Tried to stand up on his hind legs, but his body was too heavy. Seventy kilos and a low centre of gravity. So he fell back down, scraping his claws down his master's trouser legs. Sejer gave him the sausage. He spread mayonnaise over the eggs.
"Sometimes I need to be little. A little girl. It's the best thing I know."
He poured milk into a glass. A little girl? Wasn't she going to be finished soon? Was there a faint smell of hash? He suddenly felt so tired. But then it changed to something else. He thought: I need to go into the living room. I want to watch the news. She was sitting at the table with the phone clamped under her chin. She heard him, and turned to give him a sly wink. He was caught completely off guard. His sandwich slid across the plate and threatened to go over the edge. Kollberg lay down next to him, his nostrils quivering. Sejer concentrated on his egg sandwich.
"I have to go to bed," said Sara suddenly. "I'll call back when I need you, okay?"
Then she smiled at the wall above the table, where he had hung up a calendar and an old certificate from the shooting range. He was an excellent marksman.
"What am I wearing?"
She looked down at herself, at the green corduroy trousers and the checked flannel shirt that she was wearing.
"A beautiful red, strapless dress made of pure silk. And I'm very tanned. I've just been to Israel. You're talking to a Jewish woman. Haven't you ever had a Jewish woman?"
Sejer had just taken a bite of his sandwich, and now he just about choked on it. He looked at his dog, grateful for the fact that he couldn't understand. Instead, he switched on the television and stared at the screen, at the face reading the news, which he couldn't hear, because he had turned down the sound. Out of sheer politeness he had turned down the sound. But now he decided to turn it up loud and make her hang up the phone. There was a war on the screen. Fighter planes taking off from a ship and flying like bolts of metallic lightning through the sky. He could feel the G-force as he sat in his chair.
"Good night, dear."
Sara hung up the phone. She walked across the room and perched on the arm of his chair.
"Didn't you see the roast beef in the fridge?" she asked.
Roast beef? No, he hadn't seen any delicacies like that, he had been listening to her, bewildered. Besides, eggs were fine. A little too much cholesterol, of course, but rich in protein, and that's what he needed to keep his muscles strong.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked.
"Phone sex," she said with a laugh as she brushed back her long fringe. Not the least embarrassed. He didn't say anything. He didn't feel hungry any more.
"I was bored, and you weren't here."
"Do you know how much it costs?" The words flew out of his mouth, and then she laughed even more. She had a spontaneous, hearty laugh. He didn't understand why she was laughing. Actually, he would have preferred to be alone.
"So how do you know, my good man, that phone sex is so expensive?"
He didn't reply, just sat there feeling foolish. She kissed his rough, grey hair. "I've called them a lot, but I can afford it. I make more than you do." And then she laughed some more.
"But why?" he stammered.
"It's fun. There sits a real live man on the other end of the line." She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "You should try it sometime!" He was still looking at his egg sandwich. It was only a matter of time before Kollberg snatched it away.
"Where did you get the number?" he asked, embarrassed.
"It was in the newspaper. There are lots to choose from. All depending on what your preference is. Aren't you curious?"
"No."
"They give you everything you want. Everything that's possible to send over a phone line, that is. And it's more than you might think!"
He picked up his sandwich, took a bite, and chewed carefully.
"You're freezing," Sara said. She put her hand on his cheek. She was hot as coals.
"Sometimes we just have to have a little fun in our lives, don't you think?"
Have fun? Was that important? The Devil rose up inside Konrad Sejer. He got up from his chair and towered over her with all of his 196 centimetres, and she sat there in surprise, like a little girl, looking up at him with concern. He thought: I'm stronger than she is. I could lift her up and carry her away. She could wriggle and squirm, but she wouldn't have a chance. He slipped his arm around her waist and held on tight, lifting her from the arm of the chair. She squealed with glee, but he noted with satisfaction the tiny hint of panic as he carried her across the room. He stopped in front of the old chest of drawers that had stood on Gamle Møllevej for all those years and weighed a ton. He bent his knees and with a groan set her firmly on the top of it. There was plenty of room. She shrieked with laughter.
"Sit still," he commanded, taking a few steps back. "If you move you'll fall off."
"I want to get down," she cried.
"You can't," he said. "Or the whole thing will topple over!"
"You can't leave me here," she said, laughing as she began to try to find a foothold to climb down, but stopped when she felt the chest start to topple under her weight.
"Don't move," he said gruffly. "I want to eat in peace. After that we'll go for a long walk." He sat down again and started eating. Kollberg jumped around, barking and carrying on. He didn't recognise his master. Sara laughed so hard he had to tell her to hush, for fear the chest of drawers would pitch forward and crash to the floor. It was full of crystal. She ran a finger along the top. It was black with dust.
"I like dust," she teased him. "Dust contains a little of everything. A little of you and a little of me."
"Be quiet and let me eat!" he shouted. Down by the river stood an elderly woman. She was standing to the right of the barge, which functioned as a cafe, but was closed now. She stood there a while, looking across at the railway station on the opposite bank. She stood erect, with an air of having finished something important. Then she took a few steps and stopped again, next to a stairway that led down to the water. She started down the steps. On the third step she stopped and raised her head to look at the bridge span, that long, slender line of concrete that connected the two parts of the town. People were walking back and forth across the bridge. The lights, thousands of them, glittered like broken reflections in the water. She went down another step. And then she did something odd that would have surprised anyone who might have noticed. She lifted up her coat, an old brown coat. Then she went down another step, and the water came up to her ankles. Now she was paralysed by the cold of the water. There were a lot of people in the square, but she was so unobtrusive, didn't make a sound when she finally fell forward into the water, with her arms spread out. She looked like a large child falling into a snowdrift.