Karin Alvtegen - Shame

‘Pernilla, come, let’s put you to bed. Come on now.’

Doctor Lundvall went round the table and put a hand on her shoulder.

The woman kept on rocking back and forth.

‘Come on.’

Doctor Lundvall took hold of Pernilla’s shoulders and helped her up from the chair. With an arm round her shoulders she led the woman into the bedroom. Like a child Pernilla let herself be led and did as she was told, lying down obediently in the bed. Doctor Lundvall pulled up the covers from the empty side of the double bed and tucked them around her. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Pernilla’s forehead. Gentle, calm movements that made her breathe more easily. She stayed there. The red numbers on the clock radio changed and returned in new combinations. Pernilla was now sound asleep, and Doctor Lundvall went back to the subject of her leave of absence.

Now only Monika was left.

‘Forgive me.’

One big reminder.

‘Forgive me. Forgive me because I wasn’t braver.’

She stroked away a lock of hair from her brow.

‘I would do anything to make him come back to life.’

Pernilla took in a shuddery breath. And Monika felt that she wanted to say it out loud. Even if Pernilla didn’t hear. To confess.

‘It was my fault, I was the one who betrayed him. I left him there even though I could have saved him. Forgive me, Pernilla, for not being braver. I would do anything at all, anything, if only I could give you Lasse back again.’

‘Why didn’t you say something?’

Four days had passed since the bathroom incident, and nobody from the agency had shown up. Now Ellinor was suddenly standing in the hall, and she flung out the question before she even managed to close the front door. The words echoed from the stairwell. Maj-Britt was standing near the living-room window and was so surprised by her own reaction that she didn’t even register that she had just been asked a question.

How she had detested that voice. It had plagued her like an ingenious torture instrument with its inexhaustible flow of words, but now she had a feeling of gratitude. She had come back. In spite of what had happened last time.

Ellinor had come back.

Maj-Britt remained by the living-room window. What she felt was so unfamiliar that she completely lost her bearings, she no longer remembered how you were supposed to act in situations like this, when you actually experienced something that might easily be mistaken for a mild form of happiness.

She didn’t have much chance to think about it because the next moment Ellinor came storming into the room, and it was quite obvious that she wasn’t expecting to be welcomed with delight. Because she was furious. Really fuming. She stared at Maj-Britt and completely ignored Saba, who stood wagging her tail obsequiously at her feet.

‘You have pain in your back, don’t you, where you usually put your hand? Admit it!’

The question was so unexpected that Maj-Britt totally forgot her gratitude and retreated at once to her usual defensive position. She saw that Ellinor had a folded piece of paper in her hand. A piece of lined paper torn from a notebook.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why didn’t you say something?’

‘Are you aware that it’s been four days since the last time you were here? I could have starved to death.’

‘That’s right. Or you could have gone out to the shop.’

Her voice was just as fierce as her gaze, and Maj-Britt realised that something had happened during those four days Ellinor had stayed away. Maj-Britt sensed that it had to do with that piece of paper she was holding. It was so similar to other pieces of paper which had intruded into her flat a while back, and which she was sorry she had ever read. Ellinor must have seen her expression, because now she unfolded the sheet of paper and held it out to her.

‘This was why you thought I knew Vanja Tyrén, right? Because she wrote that you had pain somewhere, so you thought I was the one who told her, right?’

Maj-Britt felt her ears flame red. Since the past had come back she had been almost anaesthetised, it was as if a peculiar gap had formed between all her emotions and what she had suddenly remembered. She sensed that the reprieve was temporary, and now that she saw the paper being held out to her the gap was reduced to nothing more than a thin little membrane. Nothing in the world could make her take it. Nothing.

‘Since you refused to tell me, I wrote to her myself and asked what actually happened, what it was that made you believe she and I knew each other. Today I got her answer.’

Maj-Britt didn’t want to know. No, she didn’t, she didn’t. She had been unmasked. With Ellinor’s letter Vanja had learned that Maj-Britt had actually lied; she now knew what a pitiful failure of a human being Maj-Britt had turned into. But naturally Ellinor did not intend to let her escape. Not this time either. Her voice lashed out the words when she started to read.

‘ Dear Ellinor, Thanks for your letter. I’m glad there are people like you out there with a genuine empathy for your fellow human beings. It gives me hope for the future. Most people who are locked in the bathroom by their clients would probably have left the whole thing behind like an unpleasant memory and chosen not to go back there again. I’m glad for Majsan’s sake that she has you, and do try to forgive her. I don’t think she meant as much harm as it may have seemed and the fault is actually mine. I wrote something in a letter that no doubt scared her, and to be honest that was my intention, because I think it might be urgent. I wrote that if Majsan has pain somewhere then she has to seek medical help. I had hoped that she would have already done something about it before she got my letter, but apparently she chose not to, and the choice is naturally her own and no one else’s .’

Ellinor raised her eyes and glared at Maj-Britt, who turned her back and looked out the window. Ellinor continued reading.

‘ Now I realise that you probably wonder how in the world I could know this, and I sense that you have already decided to write another letter to ask me. To save you some time I’m answering you now. The only person I’m willing to tell it to is Majsan, and I don’t intend to do so either by letter or telephone. Best of luck, Ellinor. My warmest regards, Vanja Tyrén .’

It was finally quiet. Maj-Britt felt that disgusting lump in her throat. She tried to swallow but it wouldn’t budge, and even grew bigger, forcing tears to her eyes. She was thankful that she had her back to Ellinor so she wouldn’t see. Her weakness would be used against her, she knew that, that’s how it had always been. It was when you dropped your guard that you made yourself most vulnerable.

‘Dear Maj-Britt. Let me ring and make an appointment with a doctor.’

‘No!’

‘But I’ll go with you, I promise.’

Ellinor sounded different now. Not as angry, but concerned instead. She had been easier to deal with when she was angry, when Maj-Britt was fully justified in defending herself.

‘Why should I listen to someone doing life in prison who has some peculiar notion about me?’

‘Because that particular notion is right. Isn’t it? You do have pain in your back. Admit it.’

She hadn’t even sounded angry in the letter. Even though Maj-Britt had lied to her. Vanja still cared about her welfare despite her nasty reply. She felt herself blushing, the colour of shame creeping across her cheeks when she thought about what she had written to Vanja.

Vanja.

Maybe the only person who had really cared about her. Ever.

‘Can’t you at least find out what she knows?’

Maj-Britt swallowed in an attempt to get control of her voice.