Юхан Теорин - The Asylum

Lilian drinks the most, knocking back half the contents of her glass. ‘Do you like Bill’s Bar, Jan?’ she asks.

‘I do, yes.’

‘What do you like about it?’

‘Er... the music.’

They are talking loudly, almost the way they do to the children at the pre-school, in order to be heard above the house band. The Bohemos are made up of four youngish men in scruffy leather jackets, standing on a small raised stage. The singer’s hair is pulled back in a blond ponytail, and he delivers rock songs in a hoarse baritone. The stage is cramped, but the band manage a few simple dance steps with their guitars from time to time without bumping into one another. Even though the people in the bar chat away through most of the music, they are still generous enough to give the Bohemos a brief round of applause when each number comes to an end.

Jan prefers Rami’s whispering songs about loneliness and longing, but he still claps politely.

He raises his glass. The beer he is drinking tonight is stronger, and the alcohol has gone straight to his head like a rocket. His mind is floating free.

Right now it would be brilliant to be a regular here, but Jan doesn’t have much of a talent for finding friends in pubs. He realized this earlier in the evening when he pushed his way to the bar without making eye contact with a single person. He finds it difficult to relax in the company of adults; it’s much easier with children.

At least he got a friendly nod from the bartender when he went up for his second beer, and now his colleagues from work have joined him at his table. They just turned up and sat down: Hanna with her blue eyes, Lilian with her red hair.

Lilian empties her third glass and leans across the table. ‘Did you come here on your own, Jan?’

He thinks about quoting Rami — I am a lost soul in a desert of ice — but instead he merely smiles. Mysteriously, he hopes.

‘Oops, empty again.’ Lilian gestures in the direction of the bar. ‘Keep my seat, I’m just going for another.’

Jan and Hanna’s glasses are still half full, but when Lilian comes back she has bought them another drink too. ‘The next round’s on you!’

Jan doesn’t want to drink another drop, but he accepts the glass anyway. They carry on chatting, first of all about the Bohemos; according to Lilian they are definitely the best band in town, even if hardly anyone outside Bill’s Bar has heard of them.

‘They only play at Bill’s as a hobby,’ she says. ‘They’ve got other jobs.’

‘They work up at St Patricia’s,’ says Hanna. ‘Well, a couple of them do.’

Lilian glances at her sharply, as if she has said too much.

‘Do they?’ Jan looks over at the band with renewed interest. ‘At St Patricia’s?’

‘We don’t know them,’ Lilian says.

Jan is feeling good now; he buys the next round. And then Hanna buys three more bottles. The beer is flowing! That’s OK by Jan. After all, he can have a lie-in tomorrow, before his night shift at the Dell.

But Lilian is drinking more than Jan and Hanna put together, and her head is sagging lower and lower. Suddenly she straightens up. ‘Jan... lovely Jan,’ she says, blinking tiredly. ‘Ask me if I believe in love.’

‘Sorry?’

Lilian shakes her head slowly. ‘I don’t believe in love.’ She holds up three fingers. ‘These are the three men I’ve had in my life... The first one took two years from me, the second took four, and I married the third one. And that ended last year. So now I’ve only got my brother. Just one brother. I used to have two, but now I’ve only got one...’

Hanna leans over. ‘Shall we go home, Lilian?’

Lilian doesn’t answer; she empties her glass, puts it down and sighs. ‘OK... Let’s go home,’ she says.

Jan sees that Bill’s Bar is closing up. The music has stopped, the Bohemos have left the stage, tables are emptying around them.

‘Fine,’ he says, nodding. ‘Let’s go.’

He keeps on nodding; he realizes he’s actually drunk for the very first time, and his feet seem to have a mind of their own when he stands up. ‘I am a lost soul in a desert of ice ,’ he says, but neither Hanna nor Lilian seems to hear.

The air feels like the inside of a fridge when they get out on to the street, and the alcohol hits Jan over the head like a hammer. He staggers and looks at his watch; it’s almost two o’clock. Late, very late. But he’s free until nine o’clock tomorrow evening. He can sleep all day.

Lilian looks around and spots a taxi across the street. ‘Mine!’ she screeches. ‘See you!’ She makes her way unsteadily over the road, gets into the taxi and is gone.

Hanna is still standing there. ‘Lilian lives quite a long way out... Where do you live, Jan?’

‘Pretty close.’ He raises his left arm and waves it vaguely towards the east. ‘Over there, just across the railway line.’

‘OK, let’s head over there,’ she says.

‘What, back to mine?’

She shakes her head. ‘No, just as far as the railway line. I’ll walk with you. I’m heading in the same direction.’

‘Great,’ says Jan, trying to sober up.

They set off along the pavement, side by side, and after fifteen minutes they reach the tracks running past the town centre.

‘This is where we go our separate ways.’

The sky above them is black, the railway line is empty.

Jan lowers his gaze and looks at Hanna. Her shining blue eyes, her blonde hair, her cool face. She is beautiful, but he knows he isn’t interested in her — not in that way. But he carries on staring in silence.

‘What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?’ Hanna is asking him.

‘The worst thing?’ Jan looks at her. He definitely knows the answer. ‘I’ll have to think about that... so what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?’

‘Lots of things,’ says Hanna.

‘Name one.’

She shrugs her shoulders. ‘Being unfaithful, letting friends down... The usual stuff, I suppose.’

‘Oh?’

‘When I was twenty I slept with my best friend’s fiancé, in a boathouse. She found out and broke off the engagement... but we’re friends again now. Kind of.’

‘Kind of?’ says Jan.

‘We exchange Christmas cards.’ She sighs. ‘But that’s my problem.’

‘What is?’

‘I let people down.’ She blinks and looks at him. ‘I expect to be let down, so I get in first.’

‘OK... Thanks for the warning!’

He is smiling, but Hanna isn’t. Silence falls once more. Hanna is beautiful, but all Jan wants to do now is sleep. He turns and looks over at the apartment block where he lives. No doubt they’re all fast asleep now, all those good people. Like the animals, like the trees...

‘So what about you, Jan?’

‘What?’

Hanna is staring at him. ‘Do you remember the worst thing you’ve ever done?’

‘Maybe...’

What did he actually do, that time at Lynx? Jan tries to remember. But the buildings are tilting around him and he seems to be feeling even more drunk, and suddenly the words just come out of their own accord: ‘I once did something stupid... at a nursery in my home town. In Nordbro.’

‘What did you do? What did you do, Jan?’

‘I was looking after the children, it was my first temporary post, and I made a mess of things... I lost a child.’ Jan stares down at the ground, smoothing out an uneven patch of grass with his foot.

‘You lost a child?’

‘Yes. I took a group of children out into the forest, along with a colleague... the group was much too big, really. And when we set off home we didn’t have the right number of children with us. One boy got left behind in the forest, and it was... it was partly my fault.’