When he woke up she was standing by his bedside.
He yanked his duvet up under his chin. Her eye looked even worse, he thought, and what time was it anyway?
'Like I said,' she spoke firmly, 'I need twenty grand. If I go back into town without that money, he'll kill me.'
Alvar sat up in his bed. He could not believe his own ears.
'As long as I owe him that money, I'm fair game. I can't even return to my room.'
She stuck her chin out and planted her hands on her hips.
Alvar ran his hand across his bare head. He had been ambushed, it felt unbearable.
'But,' he moaned, 'you'll never be able to pay that back.'
'Oh, sure,' she said confidently, 'I can sell some drugs. Spring's coming, that means I can start working the streets again. I always make a lot of money this time of year.'
Alvar rubbed his eyes.
'I've made coffee,' she said proudly. 'And then we're going to the cashpoint.'
He looked at her in disbelief. Hugged his duvet tightly.
'I don't even have that much money in my account,' he tried in a desperate attempt to escape the humiliation she was subjecting him to.
'But you've got seventy thousand,' she said. 'You've been saving, you told me all about it.'
'It's for the painting,' he objected feebly.
'But you haven't bought it. That wall in there,' she nodded towards the living room, 'is still bloody empty!'
He wanted to get out of bed, but he could not bear the thought that she might see him in his underwear, even though his boxer shorts were perfectly acceptable.
'It's in another account,' he said, 'a savings account. I don't have a card for that.'
She rolled her blue eyes. 'Then we'll go to your bank,' she said lightly. 'They open at nine.'
She went back into the living room.
'I let the cat out,' she called to him over her shoulder.
Alvar forgot all about his embarrassment and jumped out of bed. 'What did you just say? You let him out?'
She came back in, stopped in the doorway.
'Yes, of course I did. Don't tell me you're keeping that poor little creature cooped up in here all day.'
Alvar reached for his neatly folded clothes on the back of the chair near his bed.
'But what if he can't find his way home?' he said miserably. At this she burst into a fit of laughter.
'What are you on about? I've never heard anything like it. Of course he'll find his way home. And he's not as helpless as you think. When you come home from work today, he'll be waiting on your doorstep, he's not stupid either, he knows who feeds him. Now get a move on, the bank opens in thirty minutes.'
He got dressed. He went to the bathroom. He stared at his terrified reflection in the mirror. If he did not give her the money, she would get another beating. If he gave her the money she would become indebted to him and then she would have to walk the streets to pay him back. Both options were unthinkable. If he swore at her and told her to get the hell out of his flat, he would not be able to live with himself; after all, he was a good person. He went through his usual morning ritual; he lingered and dawdled as much as he could. There was music coming from the living room, she had turned on the radio. Finally he came out. She was sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee and she had put out a cup for him too. They drank their coffee in silence.
'I'm not going to come with you inside when we get to the bank,' she said after a long pause. 'I'll wait outside. I'll sign an IOU,' she added, 'if you want me to.'
He shook his head. 'No, what would be the point of that?' he said dully. There was no way she was ever going to pay him back. Now she had become something he had been lumbered with. He looked at her, he looked at his coffee cup, which she was holding in her hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And the kitten outside now on his own, he might get run over. Alvar moaned inwardly.
'Don't be scared,' she said all of a sudden.
'What do you mean?' he asked.
'You're always so scared, you don't have to be. You see, there's nothing to be scared of.'
He bowed his head again. He could no longer see a way out. He could barely imagine this day ending. From now on everything was up in the air and he could not handle it. Days needed to follow like pearls on a string, even, round and smooth. Safe, measured days that he had complete control of. Now he could only see as far as the bank.
She got up. 'Come on,' she said, 'we're going.'
He got up too. Went out into the hall and put on his coat. She slipped out before him. They'll see us, he thought, my downstairs neighbours, they'll see us walk down the road together, and they'll talk.
God help me.
There were no other customers in the bank.
The cashier looked up at him with a welcoming smile. He asked to withdraw twenty thousand and even though it was his own money and even though he was going to give it away he felt greedy. He folded the notes and put them in his pocket. Signed for them and left. She was waiting outside. When he gave her the notes she crumpled. It was like watching butter melt in the sun.
'Thank you,' she said and burst into tears. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you! You've taken such a load off my mind. Oh, you're so nice, so nice!'
Again she gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek. Alvar felt her soft lips on his skin. He was so overcome by emotions that he had to look away. She stuffed the notes into the pocket of her grey jacket and started walking towards Bragernes Square. He followed her tiny figure with his eyes. Then it dawned on him that he no longer had enough money to buy the severed bridge. He also realised he might never see her again. That this was what she had been building towards the whole time. Settle her debt so she would be left in peace. He stood there for a while, wondering about himself and life's twists and turns. The strange direction his life had taken. A feeling of anxiety made his chest ache.
CHAPTER 19
He drags himself across my floor with heavy footsteps.
'So,' I say, 'there you are.'
'Yes,' he says, 'here I am. And you might get angry with me now. Because I keep interrupting you, but I can't help it.'
He glances at the table. 'You're relaxing with a glass of wine, I see. Rather a large glass, I must say. It's practically a bowl.'
He looks fraught. 'I'm up to my neck in problems. I've tried to escape, but it's gone too far.'
I point towards the sofa, ask him to sit down.
'You sound as if it's the end of the world,' I say. 'You've found yourself in unfamiliar territory and it frightens the living daylights out of you.'
He rubs his tired face.
'That's not to say there are no solutions,' I say, 'but you need to act. When you're in a situation involving another person, you need to take a stand. There's nothing wrong with listening, supporting and encouraging. But don't lose sight of your own interests. You've been swallowed up by her needs and her greed. She is walking all over you. You need to start asserting yourself. That doesn't mean you can't help her, but in my opinion you're entitled to make certain demands.'
'Like what?' he asks quickly.
'I think you should demand one hundred per cent honesty, for example.'
He looks at me suspiciously. Raises his eyebrows.
'Where are you going with this?'
I look at him gravely.'She's told you her life story. Illness. Neglect, alcoholism, foster homes and violent drug dealers.'