Frank padded out into the kitchen to drink some water. Sejer could hear the slurping from where he was in the living room. It was a relaxing sound. The whiskey warmed the pit of his stomach and he felt at ease. Not surprising that people turned to alcohol, he thought, it helped against most things. Against pain, despair, sorrow, worry, and anguish. Against all kinds of obstacles and difficulties. The alcohol flooded his veins and made him feel warm and light. He got up and went over to the window, looking down at the town he loved so much. The river with all its bridges, the beautifully lit brewery, the elegant church. And the busy port, where all the imported cars came into the country before rolling out onto the Norwegian roads: Hondas, Toyotas, and Mercedes in endless lines. Trains on their way into and out of the station; boats on the river with lanterns lit. He put his glass down on the kitchen counter and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and went to bed. Frank trotted in behind him and lay down on the rug by the bed as he always did, and they lay there together awake for about fifteen minutes. Then they dozed off and soon fell into a deep sleep free of worries.
14
Fifteenth of August. Afternoon at Granfoss.
Carmen walked around with a large garbage bag and picked up toys from all the nooks and crannies: a teddy bear, a pacifier, a teething ring, a yellow plastic tractor, and a red fire engine. Things that boys like to play with. Wind-up toys and soft toys, Lego blocks and Playmobil animals. Then she went to the chest of drawers in the bedroom. She pulled out the drawers and started to put the baby clothes in the bag. Her movements were quick and efficient; she did not hesitate for a moment. The clothes were folded and put away.
“We can take it to the Salvation Army shop,” she said in a very practical manner. Nicolai stood in the doorway and watched her wide-eyed. Repugnance and rage churned inside him. He couldn’t believe what was happening — that she was tidying Tommy out of the house and getting rid of every single little thing before he was even in the ground.
“Surely you could wait with that,” he objected.
But Carmen wouldn’t listen. She continued with what she was doing.
“The funeral people will be coming soon,” she said, “and everything’s such a mess. And I don’t like being reminded. His things are everywhere. And he’s never coming back.”
“You said we could have another baby,” he remarked. “You said we could maybe have a girl. Have you changed your mind? We could use his clothes then, and the toys would come in handy. The carriage, the crib, everything. What are you thinking?”
She carried on putting the clothes in the bag. Most of them were blue or white, trousers, tops and overalls, mittens and hats. She said nothing in reply to his comment, just gritted her teeth and completely ignored him. I am the mother, she thought furiously; I am the one who decides.
Nicolai tried to pull himself together. He felt like a coward, because he couldn’t confront her with all his feelings raging inside. Deep down he felt an inexplicable fear, roaring in the depths of his being, that something was wrong. He wasn’t sure about what had actually happened on August 10 and his imagination was running wild. Tommy, he thought, my little man. We’ll meet again in a better world. He allowed himself these thoughts, even though he wasn’t a believer. Because the alternative, that he was gone forever, was simply unbearable. For sixteen months, he had been a devoted father. He had lifted the boy up and thrown him in the air so he screeched with delight, thrown balls and sung songs for him at night. He had felt the warmth of his body against his cheek, the soft, soapy smell of a freshly bathed baby. In his eyes, Tommy was the best little boy in the world, full of joy and delight, despite the Down syndrome.
“Maybe we could sell the carriage,” Carmen said and glanced over at him. “I’m sure we’d get quite a bit for it, since it’s as good as new.”
“But the carriage was a present from your parents,” he said, horrified. “Get a grip, Carmen; what do you think they’d say?”
“Cross that bridge when we get to it,” was her reply. “And Dad will understand. And in any case, it’s blue. And next time we might have a little girl.” She bent down over the garbage bag again and continued to fill it with clothes. It was almost full. Before, when she stood like that with her neat little bum in the air, it produced an explosion of burning desire. Now he felt nothing except deep antipathy. She straightened up and paused. She brushed the platinum hair away from her eyes and put her hands on her hips with that elegant tilt to her hips that he normally liked.
“Maybe we should cremate him,” she said. “Then we’ll get an urn and we could maybe take it home with us. Then he’d be here with us; what do you think?”
Nicolai looked at her in disbelief. He felt himself wobbling and had to lean against the door frame. Burn poor little Tommy to ash? No, there was no way he’d allow that.
“He’s going to be buried,” he said in desperation. “Don’t say things like that.”
Up went her bum again and she carried on with the bottom drawer.
“Oh well, just thought I’d mention it,” she said. “I don’t think we should cremate him either. I just wanted to know what you thought. I mean, God, we have to talk about things, don’t we? Don’t be so sensitive!”
“You don’t care what I think in any case,” he said. Tears welled up and stung his eyes.
“I don’t understand you,” he said after a while. “Put the bag down, we’re going out. Let’s go to Stranda. I need a swim.”
She continued emptying the bottom drawer, wanting to get it finished. But the thought of going to Stranda appealed to her, although first she had to go to the bathroom. They might run into someone and she wanted to look her best. She was concerned about that. And now, especially when things were so hard, she had to keep up appearances.
They walked hand in hand down the path like a young couple in love. There had been a big thunderstorm in the night and it had rained heavily afterward. The clouds had cleared again and everything felt new and fresh, and the heat they had had for so long had returned. The sun burned down relentlessly from a hazy sky. He held her hand tightly, so hard, in fact, that she whimpered. He had put his trunks on under his jeans and the thought of a long swim worked wonders.
“Do you think they’ll have finished the autopsy by now?” Carmen asked. She gave his hand a little squeeze, as though she wanted to take the edge off this painful question.