Karin Alvtegen - Shame

‘How? She didn’t want to say, either in a letter or on the phone. And she can’t come here.’

‘No, but you can go to see her.’

Maj-Britt snorted. That was impossible, of course, and Ellinor knew it as well as she did, although she felt she had to suggest it. Just to have an opportunity to emphasise Maj-Britt’s disadvantage. She leaned on the windowsill. She was so tired. So dead tired of having to force herself to keep breathing. The pain had been so constant lately that she had almost grown used to it, accepted it as a natural condition. Sometimes she even experienced it as pleasant, since it took her mind off what hurt even more. Until it got so intense that it was almost unbearable.

Maj-Britt’s knees began to give way and she turned round. The lump in her throat had become manageable and no longer threatened to expose her feelings. She went over to the easy chair and tried to hide the grimace prompted by the pain when she sat down.

‘How long have you been in pain?’

Ellinor sat on the sofa. On the way there she put Vanja’s letter on the table. Maj-Britt looked at it and knew that she would read it again, see the words with her own eyes, the words that Vanja had written. How could she have known? Vanja was no enemy, never had been. She had merely done as Maj-Britt had asked and stopped sending her letters. Not out of anger but out of consideration.

But how could she have known?

‘How long have you been in pain?’

She couldn’t lie anymore. Couldn’t keep it up any longer. Because there was really nothing to defend.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, about how long?’

‘It crept up on me. It didn’t hurt all the time at first, just now and then.’

‘But now it hurts all the time?’

Maj-Britt made one last brave attempt to defend herself by not answering. That was all she could do. She already knew it was futile.

‘Maj-Britt, does it hurt all the time?’

It had lasted five seconds. Maj-Britt nodded.

Ellinor gave a heavy sigh.

‘I only want to help you, don’t you see that?’

‘Well, you are getting paid for it, after all.’

It was unfair and she knew it, but sometimes she said things out of habit. The words were so much a part of her life in the flat that they didn’t even have to be consciously thought before they spilled out. She was actually aware that Ellinor had done a lot more for her than she was really paid to do. A lot more. But for the life of her Maj-Britt couldn’t understand why. And of course Ellinor reacted.

‘Why do you always have to make things so hard? I understand that you have probably had a hell of a lot of trouble in your life, but do you have to make the whole world suffer for it? Can’t you try to make a distinction between those you should hate and those who don’t deserve it?’

Maj-Britt turned to look at the window. Hate. She tasted the word. Who actually deserved her hate? Whose fault had it all been?

Were her parents to blame?

The Congregation?

Göran?

He had understood what happened. He didn’t accuse her straight out, but she remembered the look on his face. Göran’s contempt had soon developed to open hatred. When it was time to move to the flat they had been hoping to get for so long, she had to move alone. And here she had stayed. Hadn’t contacted anyone or given out her new address, not even to Vanja. She had no idea where Göran went after the papers were signed and the divorce granted, and after a couple of years she wasn’t even interested in knowing.

Ellinor sounded rather dejected when she went on; her voice had lost its fire and she started by taking a deep breath.

‘But Vanja’s right, of course. You make your own choices.’

Maj-Britt started at the words.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘It’s your life, isn’t it? You’re the one who decides. I can’t force you to go to the doctor.’

Maj-Britt fell silent. She couldn’t face thinking it all the way through. That it might be life-threatening. That whatever was hurting inside her body might be the beginning of the end. The end of something that had been so totally meaningless, yet she had taken for granted that it would go on.

‘Is it because you don’t want to leave the flat that you won’t go to the doctor?’

Maj-Britt considered this. Yes. That was definitely one reason. The thought of forcing herself out of the flat was terrifying. But it was only one of the reasons; the other was more crucial.

They would have to touch her. She would have to take off her clothes and she would be forced to let them touch her disgusting body.

Suddenly Ellinor straightened up and looked like she had just had an idea.

‘What if a doctor came here?’

Maj-Britt got palpitations from the mere suggestion. Ellinor’s attempt to find a simple solution was backing her into a corner. It would be so much easier just to admit that it was impossible, so that she could renounce all responsibility and not even have to consider making a decision.

‘What sort of doctor?’

Ellinor’s enthusiasm was back, now that she obviously thought she had found a solution.

‘My mother knows a doctor I can call. I’m sure I can get her to come here.’

Her. Then maybe that would be possible to endure. At least maybe.

‘Dear Maj-Britt. Please let me ring and ask her, at any rate. All right?’

Maj-Britt didn’t reply, and Ellinor got more excited.

‘Then I’ll ring her, okay? Just call and see what she says.’

And so apparently some sort of decision was made. Maj-Britt had neither agreed nor objected. She still had the chance to blame everything on Ellinor if things went wrong.

That would make it so much easier to endure.

If there were always someone else to blame.

The clock radio woke her at seven thirty and she didn’t feel the least bit tired. Her whole system was revving up even before she opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and then slept dreamlessly for three hours. That was enough. The sleeping pills had not failed her, they effectively blocked all entry and prevented him from getting in. Then she was spared the piercing emptiness in her chest when she awoke and he was gone again.

She left the radio on while she got ready and ate breakfast. In passing she was informed about all the murders, rapes and executions that had occurred in the world in the past day, and the information settled into some remote convolution of her brain as she put her coffee cup in the dishwasher. Pernilla’s papers were already packed into her briefcase. She had decided to call the clinic and say she wouldn’t be in before lunch.

She was out much too early. It turned out that the bank wouldn’t open for another thirty minutes. Now to her annoyance she suddenly had an extra half hour, and to stand and wait outside the door was not a viable alternative. She had to do something in the meantime. In future she would plan a little better. See to it that she didn’t have this sort of unwelcome surprise that upset her planning. She headed down the street and scanned some display windows without seeing anything that interested her. She passed the news-stand, 7-year-old boy in ritual murder and woman (93) raped by burglar, saw that Hemtex was having a sale on curtain material, but didn’t notice the car that honked angrily as she crossed the street right in front of it.

She was the first customer in the bank this morning, and she nodded at a woman she recognised. The woman waved and Monika took a number for ‘other matters’. Her finger hadn’t even left the button before a beep told her it was her turn. She went up to the window indicated. The man on the other side was wearing a tie and dark suit and couldn’t be older than his twenties.