Ю Несбё - Macbeth

‘What...?’

‘We’ve got a leak, son. Soon we won’t have any petrol, so listen to me. I’ve never been much of a preacher, you know that, but I want to say this to you...’ Banquo leaned against the door on his side, lifted his knees and swung round in his seat as Fleance had done.

‘You can be whatever you want, Fleance. So don’t be what I was. Don’t be a lackey for lackeys.’

‘Dad...’

‘And land on your feet.’

He placed the soles of his shoes against his son’s hip and shoulder, saw Fleance try to grab on to something, then shoved him with all his might. The son screamed in protest, in fear as he had done when he was born, but then he was out, the last umbilical cord severed, alone in the big wide world, in free fall towards his fate.

Banquo groaned with pain as he swung himself back, put the car in gear and accelerated towards his own fate.

When he ran out of petrol three kilometres after leaving the bridge they had almost caught him up. The car rolled the last metres, and Banquo could feel he was sleepy and laid his head back. A chill had spread down his whole back and into his stomach and was moving towards his heart. He thought about Vera. And when it finally rained on this side of the tunnel, it rained lead. Lead that pierced the car, seats and Banquo’s body. He stared out of the side window, up the mountainside. There, almost at the top, he could see what looked like from the town side a tribute to evil. But here it was a Christian cross that shone in the light of the moon. It was so close. It showed the way. The gate was open.

‘A planned rise,’ Banquo mumbled. A plann—’

Duff listened to Caithness’s breathing as it slowly quietened. Then he freed himself from her embrace and turned to the bedside table.

‘Well, Cinders?’ she whispered. ‘Is it almost midnight?’

‘We’ve got plenty of time, but I can’t arrive late.’

‘You’ve been looking at the clock every half an hour ever since you got here. Anyone would think you were dying to leave.’

He turned to her again. Put his hand behind her neck. ‘That’s not why, my beautiful woman, it’s just that I lose all concept of time when I’m here with you.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips.

She chuckled. ‘You can sweet-talk, you can, Romeo. But I’ve been thinking.’

‘Sounds scary.’

‘Stop it. I’ve been thinking I love you. And—’

‘Scary.’

‘Stop it, I said. And I don’t just want you here and now. I don’t want you always disappearing like a half-dreamed dream.’

‘I don’t want to either, my love, but—’

‘No more buts, Duff. You always say you’ll tell her about us, but then there’s the constant but, which means you have to postpone doing it, which you say is out of consideration for her, for the children, for—’

‘But there are considerations, Caithness. You have to understand that. I’ve got a family and with it come—’

‘— Responsibilities I can’t run away from ,’ she mimicked. ‘What about some consideration for me? You never seem to have any problem running away from me.’

‘You know very well it’s not like that. But you’re young, you’ve got alternatives.’

‘Alternatives? What do you mean? I love you !’

‘I only mean that Meredith and the children are vulnerable right now. If we wait until the children are a year older, it’ll be easier, then I can—’

‘No!’ Caithness smacked her hand down on the duvet. ‘I want you to tell her now, Duff. And do you know what? That’s the first time you’ve mentioned her by name.’

‘Caithness...’

‘Meredith. It’s a nice name. I’ve envied her that name for a long time.’

‘Why such a hurry all of a sudden?’

‘I’ve realised something over the last few days. To get what you want you can’t wait for someone to give it to you. You have to be tough, possibly inconsiderate, but a clean cut is best. Believe me, it isn’t easy for me to ask you to do this, to sacrifice your family — it affects innocent people, and that’s not in my nature.’

‘No, Caithness, it’s not in your nature, so where have you got this from, this idea of a clean cut?’

‘Duff.’ She sat up, cross-legged, in the middle of the bed. ‘Do you love me?’

‘Yes! Jesus, yes.’

‘So will you do it? Will you do this for me?’

‘Listen to me, Caithness—’

‘I like Meredith better.’

‘Darling. I love you more than anything else. I would give my life for you. My very own life, yes, without hesitation. But others’ lives?’ Duff shook his head. Inhaled to speak but let his breath back out. A clean cut. Did it have to be now? The idea of it surprised him. Had he unwittingly been on his way there all the time? On his way from Caithness, on his way home to Fife? He took another deep breath.

‘My mother — whom I never knew — sacrificed her life for me. Sacrificed hers so that I could live. So even if it’s in my nature — as it was in my mother’s nature — to sacrifice a life for love, love for a child is the greatest love. Just the thought of having to sacrifice anything smaller for my children — taking their family away from them for my selfish love for another woman — is like spitting on my mother’s memory.’

Caithness put her hand to her mouth and an involuntary sob escaped her as her eyes filled with tears. Then she stood up and left the bedroom.

Duff closed his eyes. Banged his head on the pillow behind him. Then he followed her. He found her in the sitting room, where she was standing by one of the attic windows and staring out. Naked and shimmeringly white in the neon light from outside, which made the trails of raindrops on the window look like tears running down her cheeks.

He stood behind her and put an arm around her naked body. Whispered into her hair. ‘If you want me to go now, I will.’

‘I’m not crying because I can’t have all of you, Duff. I’m crying because of my own hard heart. While you, you’re a man with a real heart, darling. A man a child can trust. I can’t stop loving you. Forgive me. And if I can’t have everything, give me what you can of your pure heart.’

Duff didn’t answer, just held her. Kissed her neck and held her. Her hips began to move. He thought of the time. Of Banquo. Their meeting by the locomotive. But it was still a long time to midnight.

‘Inverness Casino, Jack speaking.’

‘Good evening, Jack. I’d like to talk to Macbeth.’

‘He’s at a dinner. Can I give him a—’

‘Get him, Jack. Come on.’

Pause.

The sergeant looked at the motorbikes gathered around the telephone box. Their shapes were distorted by the thick snakes of water coiling down the outside of the glass, but still the sight was the most beautiful he knew — engines on two wheels. And the brothers who rode them.

‘I can ask, sir. Who can I say is calling?’

‘Just say this is the call he was expecting.’

‘I see, sir.’

The sergeant waited. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Switching the blood-stained parcel from one arm to the other.

‘Macbeth.’

‘Good evening. I’m just calling to say the fish has been caught and gutted, but the fry swam away.’

‘Where?’

‘Now the chances of a single fry surviving are a thousand to one against, and I think in this case we can be satisfied that it’s dead and lying at the bottom of the sea.’

‘Right. So?’

‘The fish head’s on its way. And I’d say you’ve won my respect, Macbeth. There are few who have the palate or stomach for this kind of delicacy.’

Macbeth put down the phone and held on to the counter as he breathed quickly in and out.