Karin Fossum - Broken

Alvar's eyes widened.

'Then I selected some music,' I told him. 'K. D. Lang would sing "Hallelujah". It was the most beautiful song I could think of. I inserted the CD into the player. Then I returned to the flat, it was late morning. I fixed a time,' l continued. 'My exit would be at three in the morning. In other words, it was only a matter of hours. The seconds ticked by quickly. I found a bottle of whisky and started drinking as I counted the minutes. It was so dark everywhere, in my mind, in my living room, I could barely see the furniture. I could see no future. It was like being in a tunnel that was growing more and more narrow. I took off my watch and put it on the coffee table. Next to it I put my credit cards, one Visa and one Mastercard. Then I let myself flop down again and drank more whisky. My fear was now so powerful that it occurred to me that I might have severe difficulties actually getting to the car because my legs would be unable to carry me. Ah, well, I thought, I'll just have to crawl. Crawl across the gravel on the drive to my final resting place. And because my fear came in bursts, I needed to act quickly. I had to leave the house between fits, if I was to get into the car at all.'

I stop speaking. Alvar looks at me across the table.

'But here you are,' he says. 'What happened?'

'I drank whisky all afternoon and evening,' I tell him. 'It dulled some of my pain, but it strengthened my resolve to kill myself. Everything felt right and inevitable. I was committed to a course of action, I could not stop. I kept looking at the hands of the clock. When it was ten in the evening, I thought: now I've got five hours left. Three hundred minutes. They passed quickly, I tell you. The fear of death nearly suffocated me, I was so terrified I could taste blood in my mouth. And even though I was lying on this sofa, in this room,' I say, 'the room seemed as small as an attic.'

Alvar nods earnestly.

'Then,' I tell him, 'the telephone rang.' I nod in the direction of my desk, where the telephone is. 'The telephone rang, and I was so startled that I nearly ended up on the floor. It rang angrily as if it was urgent. I staggered over and stared at it. It rang a third time, a fourth, a fifth, I couldn't see who it was, the number was being withheld. But there is something about a ringing telephone, it's impossible not to answer it. I had the chance to hear a voice, be connected again to life and other people. So I answered it.'

'Who was calling you?' he asks breathlessly.

'A friend,' I say. 'A very dear friend. "How are you?" he asked.

' "I'm in a very bad way," I replied. "I'm going to end it all at three o'clock tonight."

'It went silent down the other end. I could hear he was thinking.

' "You can't stop me," I said. "I can't take it any more."

'He was still thinking because he is a wise man. He weighed his words.

"I can tell from your voice that you are serious," he said. "But there's something I want you to do for me."

'I held the telephone close to my ear and listened to his reassuring voice. "And what would that be?" I asked anxiously.

'"That you postpone it," he said. "That you grant yourself another day, and that you'll come over and see me tomorrow. We'll go for a walk in the woods. You ought to allow yourself that. You deserve another day."

'I clutched the telephone and thought about what he had said. A walk in the woods. I glanced out at the drive, towards the garage. Where my Mercedes had been turned into a gas chamber.

' "Are you there?" he asked.

' "Yes," I whispered.

' "Is that a promise?"

'I had to support myself on the desk with my other hand. "Yes, I'll be there."

' "I'm trying to get you to agree to something. Will you come over tomorrow?"

' "Yes," I said dully.

' "Are you sure?" he asked.

' "Absolutely," I replied. At that moment I felt that something had changed inside my chest. It felt as if a warm substance was trickling down it, as if something was melting.

' "Then I expect you to come," he said. "I'll be waiting for you. If you kill yourself tonight, I will feel that you have let me down. And you don't want to let down a good friend, do you?"

'I considered what he had just said. No, I didn't want to let him down. The feeling of warmth continued to spread through my body.

' "Then I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated.

'"Yes," I replied. "You'll see me. Thank you for calling. Goodnight."'

Alvar smiles a feeble smile.

'So what did you do once you had hung up?' he asks.

'I stood there for a long time trying to get my breathing under control,' I say. 'And my fear, which had held me in its vice for so long, finally let me go. Because I had avoided death by answering the telephone. I had given myself a rain check, I had plans. So I went to the garage. I tore loose the tubes, fetched my bedlinen and carried it upstairs. I lay down in my bed under the floral duvet. Whisky and exhaustion made me fall asleep instantly. And when I woke up the next morning everything felt strange.'

'In what way strange?' Alvar wants to know.

'The sun was so yellow,' I say. 'The light was so bright. It was an extra day, a very special day. A day I was not meant to have, and it felt wondrous. I had come back into the light after such a long time in the dark. I went out and started the car. K. D. Lang sang "Hallelujah", and it was entirely appropriate. And I walked with my friend in the woods. We talked about all sorts of things. And when we said goodbye, he wanted to fix another time, of course. And so it continued until I had returned to life completely.'

I look at Alvar across the table. 'And now,' I say, 'I want a promise from you. We can't say goodbye like this.'

'I don't have a friend who'll call me in the evening,' he says and looks down.

'But you have me,' I say. 'And I want to see you again. Come back to me when it's all over. We need to end this properly, we've known each other more than a year, I think I deserve that. With friendship,' I add, 'with friendship comes obligation; you, too, have to give something up when I ask you.'

Again he hides his face in his hands. But then he removes them and manages a brave smile.

'Alvar,' I say earnestly, 'you're not going to let me down, are you?'

All day Saturday he stumbled around in a distracted and distressed state of mind. The modest universe which was Alvar, a normally very steady and controlled human being, was experiencing a frantic, turbulent rebellion. It raged through him, it tore him to pieces, a frenzy which whipped him from room to room. He staggered from the kitchen into the living room, from the living room to the bathroom, where he looked at himself in the mirror, pale with fear. He hunched over the sink, clinging to the porcelain basin. He prayed to God, whom he did not even believe in, he prayed for help, for relief and forgiveness, he prayed for a way out, he prayed for mercy. At the same time he felt deeply ashamed of this pathetic manoeuvre, but he had no one else to turn to. He did not even have a family he could bring shame on. A war was being waged inside his muddled head. He would have to go through everything that was about to happen on his own and people would read the newspapers and judge him. Because now he could see how absurd his actions had been.

Finally he collapsed onto his bed after several hours of manic pacing round the flat. He stayed there staring at the wall while he wrung his fingers till they nearly broke. Whimpering sounds came from his mouth, from time to time a hoarse sigh, noises he did not have the strength to suppress. So he lay, hour after hour. He only got up to use the loo or to fetch himself a glass of water, which he would gulp down with trembling hands. He waited, he listened. He tried to calm his frantic heart, but it beat unruly behind his ribs. It continued to rain, but it was easing off. A few faint noises from outside penetrated the bedroom, he was listening out for cars. So he lay, trapped, gripped by fear. He wanted to switch on the radio to find out if she had been found, but he did not have the courage. He was hyperventilating and he felt dizzy. He also felt hungry, but he couldn't manage to eat anything. The doorbell would ring, he didn't know when, but the doorbell would ring soon and there would be someone outside who would point the finger at him.