Karin Alvtegen - Shame

Worming their way in. What a ridiculous expression!

She suddenly heard someone giggling and realised to her astonishment that the laughter was coming from her own mouth. The monster in the chair gave a start and glared at her.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Nothing, I was just standing here thinking about something and then I thought that… it’s nothing.’

Someone laughed again but then it was quiet. The true nature of something. A guest from hell disguised as a worm.

When the monstrosity began to speak again her voice sounded angry, as if someone had insulted her.

‘I won’t tire you with any details, because I can see with my own eyes that you aren’t very interested, but you must know that I’m doing this for your own sake. I’ll be brief and give you three alternatives. The first is that you voluntarily confess to the widow who lives on the third floor across the way that you have been telling lies and bring her here so that I can hear it with my own ears. The second is as follows. Somewhere in safekeeping there is a letter that I have written. If you do not voluntarily confess, in a week this letter will be delivered to her, and when she reads it she will find out that you were the one who talked her husband into trading places with you on the way home from the course.’

The fear succeeded in opening up a little hole, but only a little one. So far she was still fairly safe. The pills were in her handbag, but she had already taken more than the normal dosage. Several times over.

‘The third alternative is that you deposit one million kronor into the bank account of Save the Children. And that you come here and give me the deposit receipt as proof.’

Monika stared at her. The precise sum and specific request carved out a measure of reality from the insanity. With absolute clarity she comprehended the full import of such an unreasonable demand.

‘Are you crazy? I don’t have that much money.’

The monster turned her head away and looked out the window. Her chins shook when she continued.

‘No, of course you don’t. Then it will have to be one of the other alternatives.’

The gate was thrown open wide. She snatched up her handbag and fumbled for the packet of pills, saw out of the corner of her eye that the monster was watching her but it didn’t make any difference. She dropped the foil pack on the floor and almost passed out when she stooped to pick it up.

‘You can think about it for a couple of days and let me know which one it will be. But it’s urgent. The grace of the Lord must not be misused.’

Monika staggered out to the hall and swallowed the tablets. She picked up her boots and sat down in the stairwell to pull them on. She held onto the banister on the way down and found the exit through the cellar. Somehow she had to buy herself some time. Make everything stand still long enough to give her a chance to think and regain control over all that had gone so wrong, slipping out of her hands once again. The woman was insane and somehow part of the net that had ensnared her. Now she had to find a way out of everything that was no longer possible to comprehend.

She noticed how the Zopax had found its way to the correct receptors in her brain, and she stopped to allow herself a moment’s pleasure. Enjoyed the sense of liberation when everything, through a wondrous transformation, was no longer so important, when everything sharp became embedded in something soft and manageable that could no longer do her harm.

She stood utterly still, gently inhaling air into her lungs and breathing. Just breathing.

The sun had peeked out. She closed her eyes and let the rays play over her face.

Everything would be fine. Everything was quite fine. Zopax and Save the Children. Everything had a charitable purpose. Almost like the donation fund she was responsible for at the clinic. Which would go to deserving aid groups for children injured in war. Each year they helped hundreds of children all over the world. It was fantastic; they saved them, saved the children. Save the Children. Ha! Now that she thought about it, it was almost the same thing, after all. And no one would ever notice a thing, there was so much in that donation account. She would just have to borrow a little of the money as an emergency measure until she managed to solve the problem in some other way. She had the account number in her wallet, and the bank was open. It was for Pernilla’s sake too, of course, she mustn’t forget that, so that she wouldn’t feel betrayed and deserted and utterly alone. Pernilla needed her. Until she had found an equally good replacement for Mattias, Monika was the only one Pernilla had. And Monika had vowed, on her honour and in good conscience, that she would strive to serve her fellow man with humanity and respect for life as a guiding principle, and now she had a life to save. It was her duty to do everything she could.

The only thing was that in this case she couldn’t remember whose life it was that she actually had to save.

Maj-Britt sat on a chair just inside the front door. It stood a bit ajar and through the crack she had watched some of her neighbours pass by in the morning hours, hurrying down the stairs and out into the world she had left behind so many years ago. She inhaled the air that streamed in from out there and did her best to try to get used to it.

Ellinor had gone out and bought her a pair of outdoor shoes that were already on her feet, but Ellinor couldn’t find a jacket to fit her. It would have to be specially ordered, they said, and Maj-Britt couldn’t wait that long. What she had to do had to be done as soon as possible, before her courage failed her again.

Ellinor had kept on trying to persuade her but had finally been forced to give up. She recognised the futility of trying to convince someone who had put all her desires behind her, to undergo a series of complicated operations simply to hold onto a life that had actually ended long ago.

Maj-Britt hadn’t said a word about her plans. Ellinor was totally in the dark about the negotiations that had taken place with God. Or the fact that Maj-Britt was in the process of making up for her sins so that she could be forgiven. And then dare to die.

Monika hadn’t wanted to understand. Maj-Britt was unsure of how she had reacted. But it didn’t make much difference. Whatever Monika decided to do, it would mean that Maj-Britt had performed a good deed. Either she would save Monika from hell by making her stop lying, or, if Monika chose to pay the money instead, it would be thanks to Maj-Britt that Save the Children would be able to help a great number of children to live a more tolerable life.

A little restitution.

Of course it wouldn’t be enough, but God had indicated that it would mitigate somewhat the devastating judgement that awaited her.

But she was not forgiven.

She had one more thing to do. Because it wasn’t only Monika who had lied.

That’s why she was sitting by her front door and peeking out through the crack, trying to convince herself. So that she could approach with tiny ant steps the enormous thing she was about to do.

Those letters she had written.

In order for her to dare to leave this life, all the lies had to be taken back, and she needed to see Vanja with her own eyes to make sure, to be certain that she received her forgiveness. And then she would know. The question kept swirling round inside her: how had Vanja known about the tumour that was growing in her body when she didn’t even know about it herself?

She had considered writing a letter in any case, despite the fact that Vanja had said that she did not intend to tell her anything either by letter or telephone. And if she was only half as stubborn as she had been as a girl, it would be fruitless even to try.