“What do you mean by outside herself?” Sejer asked. “Do you mean that she behaves irrationally?”
“Yes, totally, she just wanders all over the place. I have to shepherd her like a sheep dog until it’s passed. And you know, it’s quite some time. It’s like a blackout.”
“So after a fit she can be a bit muddled? As she explained to me when she was interviewed?”
“Yes, that’s right; she gets muddled. It’s like she has to start all over again. She doesn’t know what day it is, that sort of thing. She does stupid things that she forgets about afterward. It’s quite frightening really.”
“Do you have any thoughts about her new statement?”
“Of course I do. When I heard, I couldn’t believe it. I mean, really. She could have called for me; I wasn’t far away. But I guess she panicked, and I’m trying very hard to understand.”
“Let me ask you something about her epilepsy,” Sejer said gravely. “Can she tell beforehand if she’s about to have a fit?”
“Yes, she can. Not always, but mostly, yes.”
“And what does she do then?”
“She lies down flat on the sofa or the floor. That is, she does what she can before it starts and she’s pretty careful. I feel really ashamed, but I don’t care as much about Carmen anymore as I should,” he added, with a new frankness.
Sejer gave him a paternal look. “I see,” he said. “And how much do you think you should care about her? Life is not easy and you’re not duty-bound to love anyone this much or that much. So be kind to yourself.”
“What about you?” Nicolai inquired. “Do you love your wife as much as you did before?”
“My wife?” he said. “What can I say? She died many years ago. She was only forty, so I live alone now. Well, with Frank, that is, the dog you met the last time. I don’t have a bad word to say about Frank, but it’s not the same as having a partner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Sejer’s smile was melancholy. “No, how could you know? But perhaps it’s true to say I never had the time to get bored. My feelings are just as strong now; I guess they will never fade. Though sometimes I wish they would. So I could move on. I might have found myself a new wife. But whenever I meet someone new, I get cold feet and it feels like being unfaithful. We got married in church, as if that explains anything. So there you go. Now we’ve both confessed,” he said, smiling. “Tell me how Tommy came between you.”
“Well, we didn’t really agree on how to bring him up. Carmen said I spoiled him; she was much stricter than I was. She wouldn’t pick him up when he was lying in bed crying, that sort of thing. And I’ve asked myself what it would have been like had he been normal. You know, if everything would have been better then. But Tommy was the best and I was really proud of him. I had a son and I was going to teach him to repair bikes. And to play football, for that matter. If he was physically fit enough to run after a ball, that is. But Carmen was disappointed. She never said it straight out, but I saw it in so many little ways, that she resented it.”
“Give me an example,” Sejer said.
“Well,” Nicolai started, “one time she was at work in the café. She’d taken a couple of extra shifts because of illness. And I turned up unannounced with Tommy in the carriage. I just dropped in to say hello, because I thought she’d be happy to see us. But I was wrong. I walked all the way from Granfoss, and it was a lovely walk. But she wasn’t happy to see us at all when we came through the door. The other two, Siri and Elisabeth, cooed around the carriage. She didn’t normally like showing him off to others but she made an effort and played all happy and proud. But I know Carmen; I could tell she was just pretending.”
He fell silent and looked at Sejer with troubled eyes.
“And that’s how she is all the time,” he concluded. “She’s just pretending.”
23
Afterward Nicolai drove back home to Granfoss in the blue Golf. He found Carmen in the kitchen. She was cutting up some meat; her movements were fast and efficient and the knife was sharp. She was wearing a denim miniskirt and a pink T-shirt with writing across the front: I HAVE THE PUSSY, SO I’M IN CHARGE.
She turned and looked at him, standing expectantly with the knife in her hand.
“Well, what did you talk about?” she asked. “What did he ask you? My God, they don’t quit.”
“Whatever,” Nicolai said and shrugged. “I can’t be bothered to tell you everything. We talked about a few things and I actually quite like him. He’s decent and fair.”
“But what did he ask you? Come on, tell me. We’re both part of this; the least I can expect is for you to be open.”
“Open? You’re telling me to be open?”
That would give her something to think about, he mused. He didn’t need to tell her anything. So she gave up and started talking manically about something else.
“I had a thought,” she said. “Shall we plant some ivy on Tommy’s grave? It looks after itself and it doesn’t wither like other plants, so it’s always lush and green.”
She turned back to the meat and put the first pieces in the pan. It started to sizzle and seconds later he could smell it.
Nicolai thought about her suggestion. He tried to imagine the gravestone covered in leaves. He kicked off his shoes and sat down in a chair. Looking up at her expectant face, he suddenly had an irrepressible urge to be difficult. Because he was hurting. And because he didn’t understand how she could behave as if nothing had happened. She was standing there cutting up meat like before, with quick, efficient, and determined movements.
“No,” he said firmly. “Not ivy. It takes over everything. The name and everything will disappear,” he objected. “It grows like a weed. Ivy is better for old people.”
She sighed and looked slightly irritated. “You never agree with anything, do you?” she snapped. “You’re just a grump. Ivy is beautiful, with red and green leaves. It’s like a fairy tale. Did you know it’s got loads of tiny suckers? That’s why it climbs everything, over glass and stone and trees. I really can’t see why you’d say no, because ivy is beautiful.”
He swallowed his exasperation, stood up again, and went over to the kitchen cupboard. He took out plates and glasses and put them on the table. Then he got out the cutlery and napkins and filled a jug of water. He stole secret glances at her slim back over by the stove.
“What do you reckon the police are thinking after your new statement?” he asked. “What if they don’t believe you?”
She turned around again and looked straight at him. “They haven’t decided whether to prosecute yet or not,” she said. “That’s what he said, the inspector, and he knows about things like that. And I wasn’t remanded in custody. It was an accident and you know how muddled I can be after a major fit. So don’t go on about it. I don’t want to hear any more, OK?”
She brushed her hair back from her eyes, put some more meat in the pan, and started to chop the onion. Her eyes immediately started to sting and smart.
“No matter what you think, I loved Tommy just as much as you,” she said after a pause. “Don’t go thinking you had something special; I was his mother. And I can’t help the fact that I’m stronger than you. You know that I get it from Dad, so you just have to deal with it. You can wallow as much as you like, but I want to move on. We have to. I know that you need me to carry the load, and that’s fine. But I get tired too sometimes, so there.”
He started to feel guilty. Yes, she did have to carry the load, because he was barely capable of a clear thought. And the guilt engulfed him with great force. That he hadn’t taken more responsibility. That he had fled the heat of the kitchen and escaped to the cool cellar. Away from the heat and Carmen and the child, down to the peace and quiet. Was that really what he wanted, to get away? From the responsibility and obligations? He took the salt and pepper from the spice rack and put them on the table. Her words cut him to the quick. Because he did have something special with Tommy. A devotion that was now lost forever. It wouldn’t have been like that with any other kid, he was sure of it. He couldn’t even imagine another situation like that.