Inger Frimansson - Good Night, My Darling

“Maybe she took a trip? Maybe she just needs to be alone for a while?”

“Did she say anything like that to you?”

“She didn’t seem happy, if that’s what you mean.”

“She’s had a rough time of it lately. And maybe I wasn’t supporting her the way I should have. What did she say? What did the two of you talk about?”

“She talked about her job, that she didn’t want to move to Umeå, or wherever it was.”

“Luleå.”

“Yes, that’s probably it. She was unhappy and afraid about the future.”

“Could she have done something to herself, do you think?”

His voice was rough; she could tell he was about to break down.

“I don’t know. We really don’t know each other all that well. At least, not as grown women. I have no idea if she’s the kind of woman who would do something drastic. I just don’t know.”

“I’ve never thought of her as that type. She’s been stable and strong in all ways, in spite of difficulties. But you never know… She’d gotten to that age, I think, you know, menopause and all. I think her menopause had just started. Hormones can cause women problems, or so I’ve heard.”

“That can happen, that women sometimes have complete personality changes.”

“Though I haven’t noticed any such tendency.”

She heard Hans Peter go down the stairs. He was going soon. She noticed she didn’t want him to go. For the first time, she felt that she did not want to be alone in the house; she wanted to go with him, go anywhere, just get into the car and drive.

“What did she say when she left?”

“When she left? Yes… she said she was going to walk up to Sandviksvägen and take the bus, I believe. But we had been drinking quite a bit… I don’t really remember what she said.”

“Was she drunk?”

“Yes, pretty drunk.”

“Do you think she might have fallen down somewhere?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t someone have found her by now, if that were the case?”

“Why didn’t she take a taxi? She should have taken a taxi.”

“Maybe so.”

The man was breathing heavily.

“I’ll have to call the police. There’s nothing else left to do. Then I’ll go out and look for her. I’ll come around your place, too.”

“I don’t think I’ll be home.”

“Hmm. OK, here’s our number and the number of my cell phone. If you need to reach me. If you remember something that you haven’t mentioned.”

He had put on his jacket.

“Well, we didn’t have the chance for that lovely moment,” he said as he hugged her. “I’m going to have the image of your beautiful ass in my head tonight. I’m going to have a hard-on all night.”

“Oh, do you really have to leave?”

“Yes.”

“It’s so stupid that I forgot to disconnect the phone. I always pull the phone out of the jack. I don’t like people calling here at all hours.”

He pushed her slightly away.

“But Justine, don’t do that! How am I supposed to reach you?”

“But you came here, didn’t you?”

“But if I can’t?”

“Well…”

“Tell you what. I’ll buy you a caller ID.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t you know? It’s a little gadget where you can look at a display and see the number of the person trying to reach you. If you don’t want to talk to Aunt Greta, you don’t have to answer.”

“I didn’t know that there were such things.”

“There are. Look, I’ve got to rush off now. I’ll call you tomorrow when I wake up. I’m already longing to call you.”

She was in the house. She was alone. She locked the doors and went through all the rooms. She washed the dishes and put things away. Then she turned out all the lights, and pulled the telephone cord out of the jack.

She stood by the kitchen window. She didn’t want to go lie down, didn’t want to close her eyes. The ache nibbled away at her brain, nibbled and ate.

She stood in the darkness and saw him come. He looked just as she thought: grey coat, white and blank face. Not even his worry was able to erase the look of an effective bureaucrat. She heard his steps on the outside stairs, then the doorbell which burrowed into the center of the house.

He waited a moment, then rang again. When nothing happened, he began to go around the house and toward the lake. She ran up the inside stairs. She saw him stand next to the edge of the ice. He took a few careful steps and then turned back. He had shrunk a bit more.

She felt incredibly sorry for him.

During the night, it began to snow. The thermometer showed a few degrees below freezing. She didn’t get undressed; she wandered around the house and kept bumping into the walls as if she were blind. She had swallowed a few pain medication pills, but the pain remained in her head, barely affected.

It was two in the morning. She plugged in the phone and dialed.

He answered right away.

“Hi, again. It’s Justine Dalvik. Sorry that I’m calling so late.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“You haven’t found her?”

“No.”

“Have you… called in the police?”

“So to speak. I was there and talked to them. But they’re not doing much right now. They say that it’s not unusual that wives disappear. Many do it to punish their husbands. But I think they were just trying to calm me down.”

“I’ve been thinking a great deal. She actually talked… about your marriage.”

“She did? What did she say?”

“I got the feeling that she was a little, how should I put it, disappointed.”

“In me?”

“Yes.”

“She said that?”

“She was crying and she appeared to be depressed. She said something along the lines of not having much in common these days. What do I have left, she said, neither a job nor love, something along those lines.”

She heard him light a cigarette.

“She said that?”

“Something like that, yes.”

He was crying now, mumbling something as if he had marbles in his mouth. It seemed that he might have hung up, but she heard him clear his throat and cough. Then he was back on the line.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have called like this in the middle of the night.”

“It’s really OK,” he said. “It’s not troubling me at all, the opposite in fact.”

“I can’t sleep. I’m worried, too.”

“I was out in Hässelby earlier. I rang the doorbell, but no one was home.”

“No.”

“What am I supposed to do? What in the hell am I supposed to do?” He was beginning to scream the last words. She heard him as if he were forcing himself back to normal.

“Excuse me… but I have been so worried that I have no idea what to do.”

“I’m not surprised. Do you have any sleeping pills or anything like that? I mean, so that you can sleep tonight?”

“I usually don’t use them.”

“Maybe she did?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“No. Well then, I don’t want to trouble you any longer. I’ll call if I think of anything else. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Every time she went to lie down, it came back to her. During the day, she was able to keep it at a distance. And right afterwards, she had fallen asleep. She was no longer totally drunk, but when she came out of the shower, she sat on the edge of the bed and drank a few more glasses of wine. She felt her foot aching again. Then she dropped off to sleep.

They had embraced each other. For a long time, they had stood and hugged, Berit’s hot snotty face, her drunken crying, I’ve blamed myself. I’ve been so afraid; children are like that. I kept telling myself, children have no sense of empathy, but it hasn’t helped, Oh, Justine, Justine, you have to forgive me.