‘You mean you actually go around with nothing on?’
‘Twice a month, for a full Sunday each time, in the summer. The colony is on a tiny island in Lake Mälaren.’
‘Well, I must say, it agrees with you.’ He hesitated. ‘Aren’t you embarrassed?’
‘For what? I have a body. Others have bodies. We are interested in our health. Nudism is very popular in Sweden. It is one reason we are strong when we are old.’
‘Well, I can’t say I disapprove.’
‘You do not?’
‘Not at all. I think it’s fine.’
‘I had heard all Americans were prudes. Even the men.’
‘Some. Not all.’
‘Your country is obsessed with sex, like the English country, because you are ashamed of it and afraid of it. An American professor of psychology once visited the German and Swedish nudist camps and said if even one little part of the body is covered for concealment-not protection-it makes bad sex thoughts in everyone’s head.’
‘You’re a smart young lady.’
‘I only repeat what I hear at lectures of our society.’ Suddenly, disconcertingly, she cupped her breasts from underneath and peered down at them behind the blouse. ‘The nipples are gone. It means I am warm, and the drink is good.’ She released her breasts and tapped the bottle. ‘You are not drinking, Mr. Craig.’
‘I-I guess I forgot.’
He could not remember the last time that a conversation had kept him from drinking. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, and poured, and welcomed the burning fluid into his throat and lungs.
‘Whew,’ he said. ‘That was good.’
The heat of it coursed through his veins, and he laid his head back on the seat, then turned sideways to observe that she was staring at him.
‘May I ask you a private question, Mr. Craig?’
‘Right now, anything.’
‘Your wife is dead three years, yes?’
He nodded.
‘What does a man like you do for love?’ she asked.
He pulled himself to an upright posture. He was startled, and going to tease her, but he saw that her face was solemn in the darkness.
What could he tell this serious child in honesty? That he had slept with no woman in desire and love for three years? That once a month, the week that he was sober, he would drive to a boarding-house thirty miles outside of town, where Mrs. Risten had three girl boarders, and in a businesslike way, and by the clock, release his tensions with one of these girls? That he could hardly remember the faces of any of the girls because he paid twenty dollars a visit to use them as receptacles and nothing more? That he had caressed no woman in passion since Harriet?
‘A man like me does without love,’ he said simply.
‘How is that possible for a human being?’
His hand weighed the bottle. ‘Drink makes anything possible.’
‘But you sleep with some girls?’
‘Yes, but not with love. You cannot pay for love.’
‘That is dreadful.’ Her face was soft. ‘I am sorry for you.’
‘That makes two of us,’ he said lightly. ‘Besides, what do you know about all this, Lilly? Didn’t you tell me you were twenty-three? You’re still teething.’
‘I am old enough to have eight children.’
‘And to know better.’
She laughed from deep inside. ‘Yes, I know better. You drink now, and then I will have one more.’
He drank, and drank, and then again. He handed her the bottle, and slid lower in the seat. Slowly, he was being enveloped by the soft blanket of intoxication.
‘This sister-in-law,’ she was saying, ‘is she pretty?’
‘Not like you. But all right.’
‘Like your dead wife?’
‘Not exactly. She has her points, pro and con.’
‘You have slept with her?’
The question hung above his fogged brain and then penetrated it. ‘What kind of thing is that to ask?’
‘It is a normal question.’
‘No, Lilly,’ he said in a humouring way, ‘I haven’t slept with Leah.’
‘What kind of life do you live? Are you rich?’
‘I’m poor, but I live beyond my means.’
‘What is your occupation? Are you a barrister?’
‘I’m a writer, Lilly. I write-used to.’
‘I knew it!’ Her face danced. ‘I guessed it, but I was not certain.’
‘How did you guess it?’ he asked tiredly.
‘Many, many reasons. You are young but look old. You are strange. The pipe. Mainly, the way you drink. Mr. Strindberg also drank.’
‘You sound like someone who’s known writers.’
‘Some.’
He watched the slight shimmy of the car-roof, and listened to the prow of the boat slapping the water. They were silent for a while.
‘Lilly.’
‘Yes?’
‘What do you do? Live with your parents?’
‘My father is dead. He had a lace shop in Vadstena. My mother is remarried and she lives in Lund. I did not like her husband who has busy hands-so four years ago I moved to Stockholm. I have a nice one-room apartment with a kitchen and a tiny bathroom. I pay a hundred and fifty kronor a month.’
‘How much is that in America?’
‘Thirty dollars.’
‘Where do you get your money?’
‘I sell dresses in Nordiska Kompaniet.’
He could not remember. ‘What’s that?’
‘One of the biggest department stores.’
‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes. Why not?’
‘Why don’t you get married?’
‘I will when it makes me happier.’
‘No other reason?’
‘Is there one other reason to marry?’
He turned his face towards her. ‘Lilly, if you are Sweden, I am going to like Sweden.’
‘You will like Sweden.’
‘I liked it last time, but I was young-it was my honeymoon. This time, I haven’t cared.’
‘You will like it.’ They were silent a moment, and then she touched his arm. ‘Mr. Craig, we must leave the car. We are almost there.’
He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and strained them through the wind-shield. Looming before them were the lights of Malmö.
‘All right,’ he said. He started to open the door, when something came to his mind. ‘Lilly-one more favour.’
‘Your sister-in-law again?’
‘That’s right. I’d never get this bottle past her guard without a scene. Can you take it?’
She took it from him.
‘I’ll show you my carriage when we go past. I have room seventeen. Will you remember?’
‘Seventeen.’
‘Soon as we leave Malmö, once we’re under way, bring it to me. Can you do that?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do I sound terribly drunk?’
‘Not very much.’
‘Good. Thank you for the company.’
They left the Volvo, and bucked the knifing wind, which fell away when they reached the haven between the train and the cabins. Passengers were filling their path, and they were slow in reaching Craig’s carriage.
He pointed up. ‘It’s this one. Seventeen.’
She bobbed her head. ‘Tack för i kväll,’ she said. ‘Det var mycket trevligt.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Thank you. I enjoyed myself.’
Craig smiled. ‘How do you say, “I hope to see you again soon”?’
‘Jag hoppas vi ses igen snart.’
‘Well, jag hoppas-’
But she had already disappeared into the crowd.
Craig greeted the conductor, went unsteadily up the steps, and entered the wagon-lit. Leah was awaiting him in his compartment, agitated, as he had expected.
‘For God’s sake, where have you been?’ she cried. ‘I thought you’d fallen overboard. I looked everywhere, high and low-’
‘I was hungry,’ he said placidly. ‘I was eating in the second-class café.’
‘I looked there. You weren’t there.’
‘Sure I was. I was disguised as a Dane. I’m fine, Leah. Never better. All ready for Mr. Nobel.’