Kristoffer was reminded of why he had come here this evening but naturally he couldn’t ask him here and now. It would have to wait until later. All his nervousness was gone; the fact that he had ended up here tonight was a sign that he was on the right path. His questions about Gerda Persson had been transformed into an opportunity. A chance to get to know Jan-Erik Ragnerfeldt.
He remained in his seat after Jan-Erik left the stage and the auditorium began to empty out. He was slightly hesitant now that the time was at hand. He would let Jan-Erik have a moment to himself at least before he went backstage; he knew that actors in the theatre usually appreciated being left undisturbed straight after a performance.
Finally he and a woman who’d been sitting in one of the front rows were the only people left. Kristoffer pretended to be searching for something he’d dropped. He glanced at the stage and saw the woman go up the stairs at the side of the stage and disappear into the wings. He sat back down and looked at his watch. He had an hour and a half before his train left. There was plenty of time.
He sat there for a good while. Then he realised that Jan-Erik might leave if he didn’t do something soon; yet he waited and let the minutes pass. What was easy to do in his mind was not always as easy to carry out. He tried to convince himself that his mission was important and that Gerda Persson was a sufficiently strong bond between them. It should be of some interest even to Jan-Erik Ragnerfeldt. Just as he was about to get up, a man came out on stage. He walked over to the podium and suddenly noticed Kristoffer.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’
Kristoffer stood up. ‘I’d just like to have a word with Jan-Erik if possible.’
The man looked towards the wings and then back at Kristoffer.
‘Does he know you’re here?’
Kristoffer hesitated for a fraction of a second before the lie took shape on his tongue.
‘We’re good friends and I wanted to surprise him.’
The man relaxed and began unscrewing the reading lamp.
‘Well, go through the door at the back and then turn left. It’s the second door on the right.’
Kristoffer hurried to the stage and followed the route the woman had taken. He gave the man at the podium a friendly smile and felt his way behind the black curtains. The lie had been justified. Sometimes the boundaries of truth could be stretched in the service of a higher goal.
Outside the door he hesitated. He was standing in an empty corridor, but he could hear voices. He put his ear to the door but there was no sound behind it. He knocked cautiously. Nothing happened. Maybe Jan-Erik had already left. Cautiously he pushed down the handle and opened the door a crack. There was a light on and he saw a coat hanging on one wall.
‘Hello?’
He heard a sound and in the next moment Jan-Erik appeared. His shirt was untucked and he had red spots on his throat.
‘Yes?’
Kristoffer sensed impatience in his voice.
‘I’m sorry to bother you, but my name is Kristoffer Sandeblom and I wonder whether you might have time to chat for a moment.’
Ragnerfeldt glanced at something hidden behind the door. Kristoffer suddenly felt uncomfortable in front of the great lecturer.
‘What’s it about?’
He tried to find a way to describe why he was there as quickly and concisely as he could.
‘It’s about Gerda Persson.’
Jan-Erik’s face changed. Once again he glanced behind the door.
‘I just want to ask a couple of questions, if possible.’
Jan-Erik seemed to have trouble making up his mind, but then he turned and went over to the coat on the hanger and took something out of the pocket.
‘Darling, just go on ahead and I’ll be there soon.’ When he turned round he had a perforated plastic card in his hand. ‘It’s room 403.’
Now Kristoffer understood what was hidden behind the door. The woman he had seen disappear into the wings emerged and took the card from Jan-Erik. Her finger stroked the back of his hand.
‘Just don’t be too long.’
Kristoffer looked the other way and felt even more un comfortable. The woman took her jacket and smiled at him as he took a step into the room to let her pass. She closed the door behind her.
‘I didn’t mean to bother you.’
‘It’s no problem. That’s my wife – we’ll see each other later. She comes with me sometimes when I’m out lecturing.’
Jan-Erik stuffed his shirt into his trousers and asked Kristoffer to have a seat. He opened two bottles of mineral water and offered him one. Kristoffer took a gulp and put the bottle down.
‘I have to start by thanking you for an utterly phenomenal lecture. It was so illuminating, absolutely fantastic. It’s rare to hear anyone talk about anything important nowadays, it was really liberating.’
Jan-Erik looked down. ‘Thank you so much, it’s good to hear that you liked it, thanks.’
For a moment Kristoffer thought that Jan-Erik was blushing, but he decided it must be a trick of the light.
Kristoffer suddenly felt at a disadvantage. Something in him wanted to prove his own worth, that he just wasn’t any old audience member, but someone whose compliments carried more weight than the words of many others, for he knew what he was talking about. He wanted to impress Jan-Erik, make him feel a little like he had just felt.
‘I’m a playwright, so I found it all very inspiring. I’m writing for a theatre in Stockholm at the moment, and if you like I could see to it that you and your wife get an invitation to the première.’
Jan-Erik looked at his watch. ‘Oh, so you’re a dramatist?’
‘Yes, I wrote the play Find and Replace All. It was produced a couple of years ago, perhaps you’ve heard of it?’
Jan-Erik frowned pensively.
‘No, I don’t think I have. I’m afraid I don’t go to the theatre very often.’
There was a moment’s silence. Jan-Erik took a gulp of water.
‘Do you write too?’
‘No, no. I have enough to do with Pappa’s works. What did you say your name was? I didn’t catch it.’
‘Kristoffer Sandeblom.’
‘I think I recognise that name.’
‘Marianne Folkesson probably mentioned me. I got your name from her. I’m the one that Gerda Persson named as her heir.’
‘Quite right, that’s where I heard it.’
Kristoffer picked up the bottle and drank some more water to give him a moment to think. Where should he begin?
‘The thing is, I didn’t know who Gerda Persson is, and as far as I know we’ve never even met. I have no idea how she even knew me.’
The frown on Jan-Erik’s face returned.
‘That’s odd.’
‘Yes, it is. Although I think she must have been the one who sent me money every month for years, at least since I was about eighteen. It wasn’t a huge amount, but still. So I don’t really know what I’m asking, but I thought you might know something about her that could explain things.’
Jan-Erik slowly shook his head.
‘I don’t have the slightest idea. You know, I haven’t had any contact with Gerda since about 1979, 1980. She worked at my parents’ house, but I’d already moved out by 1972. She stayed on another few years, but I was abroad most of the time.’
Kristoffer listened attentively. Nineteen seventy-two. Back then he’d still been living with his parents. The calm he had felt was now gone. As always when he got close to the truth.
Jan-Erik slapped his hands on his thighs as if to say that everything important had been said and it was time to call it a night. But Kristoffer still sat there wondering what exactly he should do. For the first time in his life he wanted to tell someone, reveal his secret to this man who tonight had proved himself worthy. He had finally found a link to what he’d always been searching for; it was almost as though he’d found part of his family.