They were interrupted when Ellen Lind rushed in, looking for Peder.
‘Are you nearly ready? Alex wants the feedback from the interview as soon as possible,’ she said, sounding stressed.
Ellen threw a surprised glance at the enchanting Pia, whom she had never seen before, but then looked back at Peder.
‘I’ll be right there,’ he said quickly.
Ellen went out, leaving the door open.
‘Maybe we could have a beer, after work?’ asked Pia with a smile.
Peder grinned back. Forget her, forget her, forget her.
‘I’ll ring you later,’ he said.
Peder looked at Pia one more time and left the room, relieved to avoid further confrontation with the very individual who personified his transgression, but painfully aware of the desire that seeing her aroused in him. Forget her, forget her, forget her.
Fate had been kind to Ellen Lind when she was born. Not only had she always been in the best of health, but she also had a number of talents to draw on. One of these was being able to spot when there was a spark between two people. That was how she had discovered her mother had met someone new, so she had not been surprised by her parents’ divorce when it eventually happened. That was also, unfortunately, how she realized her husband was being unfaithful, which was how she had ended up on her own. And it was thanks to this gift, too, though she only had a millisecond to deploy it, that she knew the beautiful woman in Peder’s office was more than just a colleague.
The discovery that Peder was cheating on his wife did not really come as a surprise to Ellen, but it made her absolutely livid. The papers that needed sorting on her desk got the rough treatment. Ellen knew Peder’s wife had spent the last year with the misery of protracted post-natal depression that wasn’t responding to treatment.
Ellen was all too well acquainted with that aspect of the male world not to realize what had happened. Peder had felt sorry for himself and treated himself to a fling. Ellen simply couldn’t understand how that sort of man could live with himself. She couldn’t understand, either, why anybody would want to be with a man on such contemptible terms.
On the other hand, Ellen’s own situation in the love stakes was hardly ideal. Her man friend had just rung back and said something had come up at work that he couldn’t get out of. Ellen had found it hard to hide her disappointment. It was as if he didn’t understand that it wasn’t always easy to juggle a love affair with being a single parent in sole charge of two children.
Talking to him on the phone this time, she had detected an entirely new note. His voice implied she was nagging and childish for voicing her displeasure. Suddenly he had completely changed his tune and more or less given her a telling off. Subtle, but still unmistakable.
‘We’ve got to be reasonable in what we expect of each other,’ he said. ‘It worries me that you’re so set in your ways, so inflexible, Ellen.’
Her first reaction was one of amazement. Then she considered hanging up. In the end she decided to ignore his killjoy comment entirely, and ended the call with a ‘Let’s speak later in the week.’
Why did it have to be so hard – so hard – to find a man to have a normal, functioning relationship with?
Alone on the road, under cover of the rain and the unusually dark sky, Jelena drove north in the car she and the Man had purchased for just that purpose. Jelena was so excited she could hardly sit still. Finally it was happening. After all the planning, all the waiting, it was about to happen at last. A smile played on her small, delicate face; a persistent bubble of happiness kept demanding her attention and begging to take over her body. But the Man’s instructions had been extremely clear, as always.
‘We won’t count our chickens before they’re hatched, Doll,’ he had whispered, cupping her face in his strong hands. ‘No celebrations – nothing – until it’s all gone without a hitch. Remember that, Doll. Don’t let anything go wrong. Not when we’re so nearly there.’
She had looked him straight in the eyes and promised and sworn on all that was holy never ever to let him down.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked her.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, urgently, longingly. ‘I love you so awfully much!’
His grip on her face tightened.
‘I asked whether you loved me, Doll. That’s a question best answered with just one word. Never use more words than you need. It could land us in a proper mess.’
She tried to nod between his rough hands, eager to please him.
‘I know,’ she answered, ‘I know. But since it’s only us here… I so much wanted to tell you how much I love you, not just that I do.’
He gripped her even harder; it hurt now. Slowly, he raised her up to his chest, up to his face. She had to stand on tiptoe or she’d be dangling in mid-air.
‘It’s nice that you want to say it, Doll,’ he whispered. ‘But you know we’ve talked about this before. The important thing isn’t what you say, it’s what you do. If I don’t know how much you love me, if you have to tell me, then our love’s worth nothing. Am I right?’
Jelena tried to nod, but it was impossible with him holding her head in such a tight grip. Tears came into her eyes, and she hoped desperately they wouldn’t overflow. Then the evening would be ruined. And it would mean pain for her. A lot of pain.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’
His grip relaxed very slightly, so she could nod.
‘Say it,’ he demanded, his voice its normal volume.
‘I understand,’ Jelena said swiftly. ‘I understand.’
To her horror, his grip tightened again.
‘That’s good, Doll,’ he said, lowering his voice again. ‘Because if you don’t understand, if I can’t rely on you, then I’ve no use for you. You understand that, as well?’
Jelena understood. She understood very well indeed.
‘So we’ll say no more about it,’ he said calmly, releasing her face enough for the soles of her feet to touch the ground again.
Her breathing eased. The muscles in her neck were taut.
‘And you’re my doll, aren’t you?’ he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, deeply relieved that he had forgiven her for her mistake.
‘That’s nice, Doll,’ he said. ‘Very nice.’
And he had propelled her gently but firmly towards the bedroom.
Jelena hugged the steering wheel hard as she remembered their union in bed, both of them filled with a great and overwhelming joy that they had taken the first steps. The man was right, of course. She mustn’t feel pleased yet, risk not concentrating properly. But when they had finished… Jelena felt a shiver of anticipation. It would be fantastic. It just had to be.
The car purred obligingly along the road. Even though Jelena hadn’t even passed her test. She met hardly any other cars. She looked neither ahead nor behind. She felt very sure of the role she had to play now. When it came down to it, this stage was childishly simple. She just had to do exactly what they had arranged. Or the Man had arranged. Since he knew best, Jelena left all the planning to him.
She knew for sure that it would be the end of her if she messed up. She swallowed and concentrated on driving.
Dump the Foetus, she thought. Nothing else matters for now.
Just got to wait for the right moment.
Fredrika Bergman ended her working day by making a list. She was exhausted. She’d had no idea the day might develop along the lines it had when she elected to drink too much wine and get too little sleep the night before.
Fredrika glanced at the clock. It was seven thirty. She hadn’t had lunch until four. She would soon be hungry again.
Her mobile telephone buzzed. One new message. Fredrika was very surprised to see it was from Spencer. He hardly ever texted her.