Karin Alvtegen - Shadow

‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.’

He opened his eyes and looked towards the park.

The dark didn’t scare him any more.

He was no longer afraid.

When Axel woke up he was alone. Some time during the night she’d had the good taste to avoid a farewell that would detract from their experience. There was nothing left to say that hadn’t been said already. He felt gratitude over what had happened, yet right now it felt hard to believe. With his hands clasped behind his head he recalled the experience. It was so extraordinary that during the night he’d been the object of a woman’s desire, that his presence had aroused her lust. Now it aroused only disgust with Alice. He did not wish anything undone. On the contrary, he felt exhilarated by what had happened. He’d thought that desire had left him, that it had gone after all those years spent in sexual deprivation. He hadn’t even been aware that he’d missed it; he’d directed his passion towards his writing, which became his surrogate lover. He already knew that it was only this one time, and he felt no wish for a repeat performance. They had met by accident and taken advantage of the occasion, there wasn’t anything more to it. Now he would return home and continue working on his book in the hope that what happened would give him inspiration.

He got up and went into the bathroom. Filled a glass with water and drank. Despite a slight headache he felt in excellent spirits.

He skipped breakfast, deciding to have a coffee at the train station. He wanted to retain the memory of the night as it was, pure and unspoiled. Like when he was a boy and had experienced something special that only he knew about, and then could safely carry his treasure about in his heart.

It was walking distance to the station, and he said goodbye to no one before he left.

He strolled through the park towards the station. The night had been cold, and in the shadows a thin layer of frost covered the ground. For weeks it had been grey and dark, but today the autumn sun peeked out from its hiding place. The air was so clear his eyes watered. He wanted to go home to his work. He had waited so long for the spark to be ignited. Now it was back, he could feel it, longed for and welcome.

The train was just about to depart. He was sitting alone in a compartment for eight and had gratefully pulled shut the door to the corridor. He looked at the glass carafe in its holder on the wall and wondered when the water had last been changed. On the table before him lay his pad and pen, but he hadn’t written a word. Then the door was shoved open and Torgny and Halina stepped in.

‘There you are!’ exclaimed Torgny. ‘Where did you go off to last night?’

He heaved the bags onto the luggage rack, and Axel’s and Halina’s eyes met. He couldn’t say a word. Torgny threw himself down on one of the seats and took off his scarf. His eyes were bloodshot and he stank of stale alcohol.

‘Oh, curse this bloody headache, I don’t know what it is. I’ve got to cut back on the cigarettes.’

He grinned and patted the seat next to him.

‘Come and sit down, sweetie.’

Halina hung her jacket on one of the hooks. Torgny caught sight of Axel’s writing pad.

‘Don’t tell me you’re sitting here writing?’

Axel collected his things and put them back in his leather briefcase.

‘No, I was just about to make some notes.’

‘Damn it, Ragnerfeldt, you’re going to have to learn to relax and let go a little. Come down to earth with the rest of us once in a while, and pull out that stick you’ve got up your arse.’

Torgny laughed and sought approval in Halina’s eyes. Axel realised that Torgny was still drunk. Even though his language was occasionally improper, this was a bit coarse even for him. Halina pushed open the door.

‘I just have to go to the toilet.’

She pulled the door shut behind her and turned to meet Axel’s eyes through the glass before she vanished.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Torgny smiled and nodded towards the door.

‘She seems very nice.’

‘Damn it, Ragnerfeldt, come on. I saw the way you were looking at her last night. I sure as hell didn’t realise there was such a horny little devil inside you.’

Axel said nothing. The language Torgny was using was the kind that Axel had left in his childhood. This side of Torgny’s personality was as new as it was disgusting. Even if the situation had been different Axel would have had a hard time joining in this sort of conversation.

Torgny leaned forward.

‘She’s a real animal, just between you and me. I didn’t sleep a wink last night, well, maybe a little on the sofa at the party but that hardly counts. The only complaint I have is that I don’t get much writing done since she moved in, but I suppose I have to take the bad with the good.’

For a few seconds Axel fumbled for a bearable interpretation. Then he had to acknowledge one that made him feel sick.

Torgny is my friend, but not my man. We’re not a couple or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.

She had lied, duped him into doing something that lay far beneath his dignity. To betray Alice was something he had chosen to do; it may not have been very honourable but it was acceptable at the time. But one never touched a colleague’s woman. Suddenly he was in debt to a man he detested. Who sat there reeking of alcohol, contaminating the air with his repulsive words. From his higher ground he had slipped and become inferior to Torgny, since he was the one who had committed a base act in their relationship.

The thought was repellent.

Halina came back and Axel avoided looking at her. Their experience had been transformed into something crude and perverse; what he’d done was the opposite of everything he’d ever been taught. Loyalty, morality and a conscientious life.

He got up and began gathering his things.

‘If you’ll excuse me I’m going to sit in a different car.’

Torgny objected but Axel didn’t listen. He just wanted to get out of the compartment and never have to see either of them again; he couldn’t get away from them fast enough.

‘Wait, you dropped something.’

He was already standing in the corridor, about to pull the door shut. Halina picked up something from the floor, and without meeting her eyes he took what she had in her hand and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Then he went to the last carriage on the train and stood in the corridor until the train pulled into Stockholm Central Station.

When he got home he went straight to his office and closed the door. On the way there he’d encountered Gerda, who took his bag and told him that his wife was resting and his daughter was in her room; she had a cold and had stayed home from school. He didn’t feel like seeing either of them, and he asked Gerda to say that he was not to be disturbed.

He didn’t leave his office all afternoon. Just before six he went to the kitchen and asked Gerda if she could bring him dinner at his desk. He didn’t get one word written; all his thoughts were circling around the events of the night before and how he could repress them. At nine o’clock he gave up, took his empty plate and went out to the kitchen. Annika was sitting at the kitchen table with a pen and a piece of stationery. He was amazed to see how grown-up she looked. No longer a girl, but soon a woman.

She looked up when he came in.

‘Hi.’

‘Hello, dear.’

He put down his plate, took a glass and filled it under the tap. He tried to work out how old she was. Was she fourteen at her last birthday?

‘What are you doing?’ he asked her.

‘Writing a letter to Jan-Erik.’

He drank the water. Gerda came in and curtseyed when she saw him. He no longer knew how many times he’d asked her not to do it, but eventually he’d given up.