The blood began to throb in my member, and I crossed my legs without shifting my gaze. How wonderful it would be to sleep with her and feel her thighs and bottom against my body. Oh Lord. To penetrate her. Oh Lord God. Oh. Her breasts cupped in my hands! Oh, just her skin! Oh, just the smooth insides of her thighs!
I swallowed and studied the ceiling. It would never work. Even in the highly unlikely event that I ended up in bed with her or someone like her, it would never work. I knew that.
She stood up with a carton of milk in her hand. Opened it and started filling a glass as she shot me a brief glance. When our eyes met she smiled.
She had noticed everything.
I blushed and smiled back, feverishly trying to think of something that might divert her attention from the colour in my cheeks and what I had just seen and thought.
She threw back her head and finished the milk in one draught. Wiped the white moustache off with the back of her hand and looked at me again.
‘Would you like some coffee, Karl Ove? You look like you could do with some!’
What did she mean? Why did I look like I needed coffee?
‘No, thanks,’ I said.
But a no drew attention!
‘Erm, well, perhaps I will,’ I added quickly. ‘Yes, please!’
‘Milk?’
I shook my head. She poured out two cups and brought them over, passed me one and sat down beside me with a sigh.
‘You sighed,’ I said.
‘Did I?’ she said. ‘It’s just late in the day. I slept badly last night.’
I blew on the black impenetrable surface with the small light brown bubbles at the edge and took a sip.
‘Do I make a lot of noise?’ I said. ‘The music and so on, I mean.’
She shook her head. ‘I can hear you’re there,’ she said. ‘But that doesn’t matter.’
‘Sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure.’
‘OK, but tell me if it’s too loud.’
‘Can you hear anything from our flat?’ she said.
‘Hardly anything. When you walk across the floor, that’s all.’
‘That’s just because Georg is away fishing,’ she said. ‘I’m a lot quieter when I’m on my own.’
‘Is he going to be away for long?’
‘No, they’re back on Saturday actually.’
She smiled and her lips were so soft and red and supple against her hard white teeth.
‘Right,’ I said and looked up because the door at the end of the room opened and Tor Einar, then Hege and Nils Erik, came in.
‘Here they come, in serried ranks,’ I said.
‘Yes, some of us respect lesson times,’ Nils Erik said. ‘We know that every minute is important for the pupils’ future lives. So we cannot, I repeat, cannot finish three minutes before the bell rings. That would be grossly irresponsible. In fact, I would go so far as to say it would be unforgivable.’
‘Yes, regular temps have a heavy cross to bear,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t you become a form teacher like me? Then you would have had more control over your time, you know.’
‘It’s my ultimate goal to become a head teacher without studying,’ Nils Erik said. ‘It’s not very common, and it won’t be easy, but that’s what I’ve set my heart on.’ He rubbed his hands and grimaced in a caricature of greed. ‘Now for a few decent slices of dry bread with a bit of hard goat’s cheese!’
Then in came Vibeke, Jane and Sture. I got up, thinking I should make some room for those who wanted to eat, and stood by the window staring out with a cup in my hand.
The sky was grey but not heavy. The girls from my class were standing by the wall on the far side chatting. The eighth and ninth years were allowed to stay inside if they wanted, and they invariably did, at least the girls. The children in the lower school generally stayed on the other side by the football pitch.
I still hadn’t done a break duty.
I turned to the others.
‘Who’s on playground duty?’ I said.
‘A wild guess — you,’ Sture said, leaning against the door frame with one hand pointing in my direction.
I went over to the list on the wall. And yes, it was me.
‘Shit, I’d forgotten all about it,’ I said and went into the corridor, grabbed my jacket and put it on as I hurried out.
From the wet-weather shelter a small, plump figure came towards me. This was a boy called Jo. I pretended I hadn’t seen him and made for the other side of the playground, where a whole crowd of kids rushed one way, then the other in front of a goal with a heavy grey ball in their midst.
They saw me and stopped the game.
‘Do you want to join in?’ they said.
‘Could do,’ I said. ‘For a little while anyway.’
‘It’s you against the rest then!’
‘OK,’ I said.
They gave the ball to the goalkeeper, who kicked it into the melee. There were lots of boys, but their legs were short, so it was relatively easy to get the ball and keep it. Occasionally I knocked some of them flying, they shouted for a free kick, I shouted they were little weeds, and they got stuck in again and chased after me. A couple of times I let them have the ball, just to keep them motivated, but in the end I ran towards the goal and shot the ball past the keeper and shouted I had won and the game was over. No, don’t go, they shouted, we’re going to smash you! Some of the smallest boys grabbed my trousers. I freed myself and had to run a few steps to get away. They were soon engrossed in the game again and I started to walk over to see to the pupils on the other side.
Jo was standing on his own by the wall with his hat tugged down over his forehead.
‘Don’t you want to play football with the others?’ I said as I passed.
He came after me and I had to stop.
‘I don’t like football,’ he whimpered.
‘Just try!’ I said.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Can I come with you instead?’
‘Me?’ I said. ‘I’m just walking around.’
He took my hand and looked up at me with a smile.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘If you want.’
Didn’t he understand how this would look to his classmates, walking around hand in hand with the teacher?
Obviously not.
With the chubby little boy in tow I went towards the other part of the playground, where the pupils in my class had now been joined by the eighth and ninth years.
‘Yesterday I finished my homework and tried the next bit,’ he said, looking up at me again.
‘Really?’ I said. ‘That’s very good. Did you understand any of it?’
‘I think so,’ he said. ‘Some of it anyway.’
‘But if you don’t like football, what do you like?’
‘Drawing,’ he said. ‘I love that.’
‘No outdoor hobbies?’
‘I quite like cycling. With Endre.’
‘Is he your best friend?’
‘Off and on.’
I looked down at him. His face was completely expressionless.
So the poor boy had no friends.
His eyes met mine and his face softened into a smile. I rested my hand on his shoulder and crouched down in front of him.
‘What about if we go and play football?’ I said. ‘You and I can be in the same team.’
‘But I can’t play football,’ he said.
‘Get away with you,’ I said. ‘Of course you can. All you have to do is run around and kick the ball! I’ll help you. Come on, we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to get a game. The bell will go soon.’
‘OK,’ he said, and we jogged over to the goal.
I stopped in front of the boys and raised my arm.
‘I’m back,’ I said. ‘Jo’s in my team. So it’s Jo and I against the rest of you. OK?’
‘But Jo’s so bad!’ Reidar shouted.