Arnaldur Indridason - Oblivion

Erlendur stood dumbstruck, not daring to move, with Rasmus pressed to his chest, and listened to him rambling about the girl he loved. He was so thrown that he didn’t see as Rasmus’s fingers reached out to a large pair of scissors that lay on a shelf beside them, grasped them cautiously, then raised them and plunged them deep into Erlendur’s body.

Dagbjört hastily finished dressing, put her school books and pencils in her satchel, checked her pocket to make sure she had the money for Rósanna’s cousin with the funny name, then bounded downstairs. She grabbed a slice of toast in the kitchen, pulled on her coat, called goodbye to her mother who was engrossed in the newspaper, and flew out of the door. She didn’t want to be late for her meeting with Rósanna’s cousin. He wasn’t only going to sell her some records but give her a lift to school as well.

As she passed Rasmus’s house, she saw him standing at the front door, waving to her. It looked as if he needed help.

She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him, so she went over and asked if everything was all right. She didn’t like Rasmus. On the rare occasions she had bumped into him in the street or the corner shop and stopped for a brief chat, his manner had struck her as oddly smarmy. And after this latest business she was going to give him an earful. His behaviour had upset and angered her, but she knew he had recently lost his mother, had few friends and was probably lonely, so she felt a little sorry for him. He and his mother had been very close. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t told anyone yet about him spying on her.

‘Could you help me a moment?’ asked Rasmus. ‘I’m in a spot of bother.’

He quickly closed the door behind her, then dithered, unsure how to begin, as they stood there in the hall, so she asked what the matter was and how she could help. She couldn’t stay long; she was in a hurry to get to school.

‘I wanted to talk to you about what you saw,’ he said, leading her along the hall towards the stairs. ‘When you... when I was in the window. It may not have been quite what you... you might have thought.’

‘Oh?’

‘No, I’m... it was a coincidence, I assure you. A complete coincidence.’

‘Why did you spy on me like that?’ asked Dagbjört.

‘It wasn’t really spying,’ said Rasmus apologetically. ‘I just want us to be friends. Good friends. I wasn’t doing anything nasty. I wouldn’t dream of it. Of doing anything nasty to you. Please believe me. It’s important you don’t think I’m... it’s important you...’

‘I have to get to school,’ said Dagbjört when it became evident that Rasmus didn’t know what he wanted to say or how to phrase it. ‘Did you want help or not?’

‘Yes, no, I... I thought... perhaps... you’d be my friend. I’ve been a bit lonely since Mother died and I was hoping we could... because we’re next-door neighbours and so on, and you’re so pretty, such a lovely person, I thought maybe we could be friends.’

‘I’ve got to go.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘And I want you to stop spying on me,’ Dagbjört said in a harsh voice. ‘It’s disgusting. I’ve seen the curtain moving. And if you don’t stop, if I catch you doing it again, I’ll tell my dad and then you’ll have him to deal with.’

‘Your dad? You mean you haven’t told him... haven’t told anyone?’

‘No. But I will. If I see you there again I’m telling my dad.’

‘Dagbjört, dear,’ said Rasmus. ‘I don’t want you to leave while you’re angry. I don’t want you to be angry with me.’

‘I’ve got to go,’ repeated Dagbjört. ‘I’ve got to get out of here!’

‘Don’t be angry, darling. My love. I can’t bear it.’

‘I’m not your love! I’m going to tell Dad... I’m going to tell him. How you—’

Dagbjört tried to return to the front door but Rasmus blocked her way.

‘You mustn’t.’

‘Get away from me!’ shouted Dagbjört.

‘You mustn’t leave here angry,’ said Rasmus, regarding her gravely. ‘You mustn’t tell anyone. You mustn’t...’

She tried to push him away but he resisted and shoved at her. Dagbjört lost her balance, fell backwards and as she landed her head hit the bottom stair. She was dazed by the blow. Rasmus seized her as she lay there on the floor and started banging her head again and again against the step.

‘You mustn’t leave... mustn’t... mustn’t leave...’

‘I thought surely someone must have seen me when I called her over so I waited in a panic for the police, but nothing happened. Nobody had noticed her come in here. I was asked lots of questions like everyone else in the street but said I didn’t know anything and unfortunately couldn’t help; I’d slept in that morning until lunchtime. When I told the police that they left me alone. I even took part in the search. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Right up until you came to the door and started pestering me with your questions and I couldn’t get rid of you. Came here uninvited, banging on all the doors and windows and insulting me. There’s no other word for it. You insulted me, like those hooligans who cornered me that time.’

Erlendur had been taken by complete surprise when Rasmus stabbed him with the scissors. Unable to defend himself, he had clutched at his belly and sunk to his knees, then toppled to the floor unconscious. When he came to, Rasmus was sitting on the floor beside him, telling him how he had called out to Dagbjört and how their subsequent conversation had led to her death. The scissors had penetrated Erlendur’s abdomen on the right-hand side and he could feel the blood seeping from the wound into his clothes. A searing pain ran up the whole of his side, accompanied by a paralysing weakness. He heard Rasmus talking to him in a soothing voice about his love for the girl and how it had never been his intention to hurt her.

‘Something came over me,’ he heard Rasmus say. ‘Something horrible. I don’t know what it was. Something came over me and I shoved her. Pushed her much too hard. Much too hard, you see. I completely lost control of myself and started banging her head on the stairs. I didn’t want her telling tales about me to her father or those friends of hers. Those sluts. I don’t know what came over me... but... but all of a sudden she was dead... when I came to my senses she was dead in my hands. So I picked her up and took her... I don’t know... I don’t know what to do with you.’

‘You’ve got to help me,’ said Erlendur, feeling his strength waning. ‘I’m bleeding to death. You can help me, Rasmus. And I’ll help you. You’re sick. You need help. Let me—’

‘I don’t need any help,’ said Rasmus. ‘That’s absurd. As if I needed any help. All I need is to be left in peace. That’s all I ask. Is it too much to ask, to be left in peace?’

‘Rasmus...’ Erlendur felt himself losing consciousness again.

‘I’d better check on her. Nothing stays the same. Everything changes. Except here with us. Here with us everything’s just the way it always was. With us nothing’s changed.’

‘Rasmus...’

Erlendur blacked out and Rasmus stroked his head.

‘Wait here, my friend, I need to check on her a moment,’ he said and rose to his feet.

Erlendur didn’t know how much time had passed when he surfaced again, opened his eyes and looked around. It took him a while to work out where he was but finally it came back to him that he was lying wounded on the floor of Rasmus’s house; that he had been stabbed. He had been pressing his hand against the wound, trying as hard as he could to staunch the bleeding, and he kept up the pressure now that he had regained consciousness, clutching his hand to his aching side. Rasmus was nowhere to be seen but he couldn’t be far away. With a great effort Erlendur managed to raise his head, then sit up and prop himself against the wall while he mustered his strength. The bloodstained scissors lay on the floor and he reached out for them, then braced himself against the wall and somehow succeeded in levering himself to his feet.