‘How did she sound?’
Gerda thought for a moment.
‘Furious is probably the best description. She wanted to know if you had read her letters.’
Both of them fell silent and looked at the doorway as they heard Alice coming down the stairs. She still knew nothing about all the letters and had stopped asking whether he’d heard from Torgny about the fate of the lovesick woman. She came into the kitchen and gave them an indifferent look on her way to the refrigerator. She had decided to get dressed for a change.
‘I see everyone’s as cheerful as usual. Did somebody die, or is it just the normal afternoon chatter?’
She took out a jug and went over to the cupboard to get a glass.
Axel and Gerda looked at each other. If the circumstances had been different he would have enjoyed the moment. For the first time he encountered an empathy in Gerda’s glance, and he was willing to convince himself that it had happened voluntarily; that meant a lot to him. But now the circumstances were different, and the situation evoked anything but pleasure. It was time to tell Alice, before Halina rang again and Alice picked up the phone. If she mentioned the letters Axel would have to admit that he had kept the truth from her, and then run the risk that Alice would demand to read them. She was well aware of his inability to throw anything away.
‘Alice, could we sit down for a minute? Let’s go into the library.’
He didn’t want to talk about it here in the kitchen in front of Gerda. He might have to omit certain details, which Gerda would consider lying.
Alice looked up when she heard the gravity in his voice.
‘Nothing has happened to Jan-Erik, I hope?’
‘No, no, it’s nothing serious, there’s just something I’d like you to know.’
She took her glass and headed for the library. Axel gave Gerda a look, but her attention had already shifted elsewhere. She was reaching for the jug that Alice had left on the worktop, to put it back in the fridge.
‘It’s about that woman, you know the one Torgny was here telling us about, Halina or whatever her name was.’
‘Yes?’
Alice was looking at him attentively. She was sitting in one of the library’s armchairs, with her back straight and one leg crossed over the other. Axel had sat down in the other one, and it struck him how long it had been since they’d sat here together. They’d bought the armchairs when they moved in. They were much too expensive but hand-picked to fulfil their mutual dream of the future. The library was the first room they furnished, intending it to be the heart that would give life to the house. There, in the armchairs, they would sit together in the evenings when they ventured out of their inspiring conversational rambles.
Now the armrests had been worn by the arms of others, and the conversations had wandered off somewhere and never returned.
‘That woman sent me some letters recently. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to concern you.’
‘What sort of letters?’
‘I haven’t read them. I threw them out.’
The glass of juice she was raising to her mouth stopped halfway.
‘You did? You threw out letters you received?’
Her voice was full of suspicion, but he intended to stand by his words. And he hadn’t read the letters, after all.
‘Yes, I did.’
She took a sip and set down the glass.
‘Unbelievable. What does Torgny say? He should know if she’s taking her medication or not. He said that was all she needed.’
‘I haven’t spoken with him.’
‘Why not?’
Axel gave a deep, genuine sigh.
‘Because I’m so bloody tired of the whole affair. I thought that the less I worried about it the better.’
She plucked a little fleck from her trouser leg.
‘Then ring and ask her what it is she wants.’
‘She didn’t leave a phone number.’
‘Torgny should know it, shouldn’t he?’
He sighed.
‘To be honest, I have no desire to ring him about this. You heard for yourself how he stood here defending her. You can say what you like about Torgny, but I actually feel sorry for him now that she’s sending letters to me.’
‘Didn’t you notice anything when you met her in Västerås? I mean, didn’t she seem strange?’
Axel shook his head.
‘I hardly spoke to her. She was there with Torgny and they sat at the other end of the table after dinner. I don’t understand why she decided to latch onto me.’
‘No, it’s hard to believe.’
She said the words with a thoughtful expression as she looked the other way, apparently unaware of the insult. As if the words had simply come naturally to her.
‘So she told Torgny that the two of you had a fling together there in Västerås?’
‘Yes, obviously.’
She sat in silence for a moment and then cocked her head to one side and looked at him.
‘I take it you didn’t?’
‘Alice.’ He used his most reproachful tone of voice.
There had been a time when a lie would have been fruitless. She used to know every shift in his gaze, every nuance in his voice, every shadow that passed across his face. But the mere thought of lying to her would then have still been unthinkable.
‘I had to ask. It would explain her behaviour at least. And I certainly have no idea what you do on all your trips.’
‘I actually don’t travel that much. I went to five Book Day events last autumn, that’s all. You’re more than welcome to come along next time if you’re interested.’
‘No, thanks.’ There was both indulgence and sarcasm in her reply.
‘I’d be grateful if I didn’t have to go, either. You know what I think about that sort of thing,’ he said.
She didn’t answer, and it occurred to him that she might not know this about him. A lot had happened since they stopped sharing their thoughts with each other.
‘Anyway, she apparently rang today and asked for you.’
She looked up. ‘For me?’
‘Well, for me too, but when Gerda said that I wasn’t available she asked for you. I want you to hang up at once if she rings again and you happen to answer the phone. But hopefully she won’t call again.’
‘Why did she ask for me?’
‘No idea. It’s difficult to make sense of any of this. But she’s obviously not altogether mentally stable, so maybe there’s nothing to understand.’
Alice got up and went over to one of the bookshelves. She took down a framed photograph of Annika and absentmindedly wiped off the glass before she put it back. At that moment Axel realised that he hadn’t seen Annika for several days. But then he remembered there had been talk of some riding camp over the weekend.
Alice turned round.
‘I think we should call the police. I don’t understand why we have to tolerate such behaviour. There must be some way to make her stop. Isn’t it illegal to keep on harassing someone like this?’
‘I don’t think it is. The only thing she’s done is send me letters.’
‘She rang too.’
‘Yes, but that may have been a one-off. We’ll have to wait and see what happens. Imagine what the press would do if they got hold of this. The tabloids love this sort of story.’
Alice sat down again. The conversation faded out to silence.
Outside it had begun to grow dark. Neither of them made a move to leave; they just stayed sitting in the armchairs they had splurged on once upon a time in another life. Axel was oddly affected by the memories that came washing over him. All the work they had put in when the dream had still been alive. The person selling the house had owned it since it was built, and the price was relatively low because of the renovations it needed. Axel’s father had helped out with things they couldn’t do themselves, such as the plumbing and new joists for a ceiling. Otherwise he and Alice had struggled through room after room with tins of paint and wallpaper paste. He raised his eyes and searched the ceiling. He found the little hole where the newly painted plaster had given way to the champagne cork. When they had ceremonially inaugurated their library by candlelight. Just the two of them, as always. Back then, when neither could exist without the presence of the other and the rest of the world intruded like a necessary evil.