Ю Несбё - The Jealousy Man and Other Stories

The whole way here Brad had been holding the girl upright on his bike as we crawled through the curves. I had never seen him riding so carefully.

And now he was sitting there in the big bedroom and telling her he loved her.

Which was definitely a new and unknown side to the guy.

I was the only one with my own bedroom; the others shared the five other rooms. Before long the villa was on its way to becoming an uninhabitable pigsty and — to Ragnar’s great annoyance — I got Brad’s permission to arrange housekeeping duties for everyone.

‘Do you hear what I’m saying, Amy?’ Brad bent his head in order to catch her gaze. ‘I love you.’

Amy lifted her head. ‘I don’t love you, Brad. I don’t even like you, I never have done. Now will you take me home?’

‘I understand that you’re afraid, Amy, but—’

‘I’m not afraid,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘You’re the one that’s afraid, Brad.’

He gave a strained laugh. ‘What have I got to be afraid of? Are you a kickboxer maybe?’

‘Of what you’ve always been afraid of, little Brad. Your big daddy. You’re afraid he’s going to punish his snot-nosed little disappointment of a son.’

Brad’s face went white. ‘He’s nothing to worry about because he’s not here.’

‘Oh, but he is here. He’s always up there on your shoulder. When you say—’ she put her head on one side and imitated Brad’s sincere delivery — ‘ “I love you”, that’s your father you’re talking to.’

There was no way this could end well. But she just kept on:

‘But as you can hear, your father is saying he doesn’t lo—’

Brad hit out. Just with the flat of his hand, but with enough force to turn her head on that slender, fine neck of hers. She put a hand to her face. Blood was coming from one of her nostrils. I knew Brad, had seen him so many times once he’d lost control, and I was certain that from now on things could only get worse for Amy.

‘Don’t talk like that,’ he said quietly. ‘Take off your clothes.’

‘What?’ She sniffed in contempt. ‘Are you going to rape me?’

‘Understand one thing, Amy. I am the only one who can protect you from the world out there. And the world out there starts in the kitchen downstairs. If I’m not here to stop them, they’ll tear you to pieces. They’re a pack of wolves, that’s what we are.’

‘I’d rather have ten of them than you, Brad.’

He hit her again. This time with his fist. She tried to hit him back but he blocked her arm. He’s got quick reflexes, Brad. He’s strong and he keeps in shape. If he could only control his emotions then he’d be a good fighter.

He grabbed hold of her blouse and pulled and the buttons flew off and scattered across the parquet floor. Then he stood up and took off his trousers. Amy tried to jump down from the bed and run towards the door but Brad easily stopped her with one arm and pushed her back onto it.

‘For your sake I hope you’re not a virgin,’ said Brad as he sat on her chest so that his legs pinioned her arms.

‘I’m not,’ she said defiantly, though her voice was trembling now. ‘But you are. Since rapes don’t count, I mean. And you won’t manage it this time either...’

Her voice was cut off as Brad clutched her throat. With his other hand he pulled down the baggy trousers and her knickers. He must have relaxed his grip because she managed to splutter: ‘...because I am your father, you’re afraid of me too, just wait...’ before he began to choke her again.

He forced himself in between her thighs. I saw his naked buttocks tense and relax, but from the anxious swearing and the jerky movements I realised he wasn’t able to manage it. Either she’d jinxed his erection or else he just couldn’t handle the situation. Or else — and this struck me as a third possibility — he really did love the girl.

‘Shit!’ he yelled and jumped off the bed. Pulled up his trousers and buttoned them as he walked towards the wardrobe and took something from inside. It took me a moment to realise it was a golf club. He held it with both hands above his shoulder as he walked towards Amy.

I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it. Or did I? Maybe I didn’t have time, maybe the door was locked on the inside. Maybe I changed my mind. Because one way or the other, what could I have done about it? There was a dull thud, like the sound of a meat-hammer hitting a steak as the head of the club buried itself in her upper body. And a crackling, crunching sound — like when you’re frying an egg for breakfast — when the next blow hit her on the forehead. She collapsed silently across the bed.

Brad turned and walked straight towards me. I was just a few metres away down the corridor by the time the door opened, but I managed to turn to make it look as though I was walking towards his bedroom and not away from it by the time he burst out.

‘There you are!’ he said. ‘Get someone to help you carry her down into the basement. Use one of the rooms with thick walls and a decent lock.’

‘But...’

‘Now!’

He carried on past me and down the stairs.

It was now three days since Amy had been kidnapped. Having tried in vain to get hold of Colin by phone, mail and through intermediaries I made my way down to the harbour. The sex clubs there were still open as though nothing had happened, or perhaps because they had. Finally I met in one of them a slightly drunk fisherman who was willing to take me out to Rat Island and asked a ridiculously high price for such a short trip. The stripper onstage gave me a dirty look as I walked off with a third of her audience.

As we neared the island a boat of the same type used by the coastguards approached us. On reflection it probably was a coastguard boat. A machine gun had been mounted on the foredeck. The boat came alongside us. I shouted across to a guy in uniform the purpose of my visit; he called it in on the radio and a couple of minutes later he waved us in. Colin was standing on the jetty smiling broadly as we lay to.

‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ he said as he embraced me.

‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.’

‘Oh, really? The signal out here is even more unreliable than it is in the city. Come on!’

He strode on ahead of me in the direction of the huge building in the centre of the island.

‘So?’ he said. ‘You and the family well?’

I swallowed. ‘No.’

‘No?’ He tried to adopt a quizzical look.

‘I’ll get to it,’ I said. ‘So this is your home now?’

‘Well, for the time being. Liza hates the place and thinks I should have bought some lovely big island instead of this barren lump of stone. She doesn’t understand that the overview is more important than the appearance right now.’

We stopped in front of the building. I put my head back and looked up at the tall, weather-worn concrete wall.

‘You feel safe in your home?’

‘Here, yes,’ said Colin, hitting with concrete with his fist. ‘These walls could’ve stopped the French Revolution. And my snipers can pick off anything that approaches, even at night.’

High above I saw the line of narrow, arrow-slit windows that commanded unbroken views in all directions. The sea glistened and glinted invitingly around us, as though this were just a normal day. But there wasn’t a sailing boat in sight. Just the thick smoke drifting across the surface of the water from the city fires. On the other hand, maybe the sea didn’t find this day any more special than one with happy yachts and surfers sailing about. Yep, just any old day with the human race wandering about the surface of planet Earth.