Karl Knausgaard - Dancing in the Dark

During the crossing to Denmark we were mostly up on deck. The sun was shining, the sea lay like a vast sheet around us, we sat in deckchairs drinking and smoking, got up now and then and drifted around, especially me, I was so restless.

After arriving in Roskilde by train, we queued up, were given our armbands and went to the campsite. I had borrowed a small brown two-man tent from Lars, he would share his girlfriend’s.

Once the tents were up, I left Lars and went to look for Bassen. We had arranged to meet at the rendezvous point, we had agreed to check in every hour on the hour, and the first time I went there he was already waiting.

‘Hi,’ he said and smiled. ‘Let’s go for a drink, shall we?’

He laughed when I told him about Northern Norway. I said nothing about Andrea, I wouldn’t ever do that, not to anyone, there was no reason.

We went for a scout around, not many people had come yet, he said he was hungry, I was hungry too, I said, and when we passed the Hell’s Angels campsite and saw that they were grilling enormous chunks of meat over a fire he stopped and shouted to them.

‘Hi! Can we have some of your food? We’re starving! A bit of meat for two Norwegians!’

One of them got up and made a move towards us.

‘He’s going to let us in,’ Bassen said. ‘They’re much better than their reputation. If you’re not aggressive towards them, they aren’t aggressive towards you.’

‘Hi there!’ he said when the Hell’s Angel — who not only had long hair, a hefty handlebar moustache, leather trousers, leather jacket and a bandana round his forehead but also impenetrable black sunglasses — was only a couple of metres away.

He moved quickly towards us and did not look enormously friendly. But perhaps it was just as Bassen had said, they just looked dangerous.

He stopped, then spat at us, turned and went back.

The gobbet of phlegm hit Bassen on the chest.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he said as we hurried away, angry and frightened. ‘He spat at us! Why did he do that? All we wanted was a bit of food!’

‘Oooh, shit,’ I said. ‘I think we got off lightly there. I reckon they are dangerous.’

Bassen laughed.

‘Yes, now we’re out in the big wide world, Karl Ove!’ he said.

I laughed too. We went for some more to drink and a bite to eat. After an hour I returned to the tent, I had to spend some time with Lars and the others as well, after all I had come with them. They were sitting outside drinking wine with a girl I hadn’t seen before.

‘Say hello to our neighbour,’ Lars said.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘My name’s Vilde.’

I shook hands. It transpired she came from Kongsvinger and had travelled from Norway to the festival all on her own. Later she was going to visit a friend of hers in Århus, she told me.

She was dark-haired, a bit plump, forward by nature, sometimes obstinate. She was two years older than me, her eyes were brown, not always open, but they revealed sudden flashes of softness.

The bottle of wine did the rounds, when it was empty Vilde went and fetched another from her tent, knelt down and opened it. The pressure made her thighs as fat as tree trunks.

‘Here,’ she said, and handed it to me. She smiled.

Half an hour later it too was empty.

Lars and his girlfriend exchanged brief glances.

‘Well,’ Lars said, getting up. ‘We’re going to have a look around.’

He grabbed her hand and they were gone.

I trembled, fearing something terrible was about to happen.

What though?

I didn’t know, but it ran through my mind that it had been a mistake to come here, I’d had enough and now I couldn’t take much more.

‘We haven’t got any more wine,’ Vilde said. ‘Fancy coming with me to buy some more bottles?’

‘Could do,’ I said.

On the way I kept a lookout for Yngve and his friends, but it was hopeless, there were tens of thousands of people here.

‘He-llo!’ Vilde said. ‘Contact! Contact!’

‘Hm?’ I said.

‘You’re walking with me! Be a bit sociable.’

‘OK,’ I said. But I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘Are you looking for someone?’ she said.

‘My brother’s here, I think. And his pals.’

‘Is he as good-looking as you?’

I flushed and looked down at her. She laughed and lightly ran her hand across my shoulder.

‘I’m just teasing,’ she said. ‘It’s so funny to see you go red.’

‘I didn’t go red,’ I said.

‘You definitely aren’t as tough as you look!’ she said.

We stopped in front of one of the counters, she bought three bottles of wine and then we went back.

Vilde said, ‘Shall we go to my tent? It’s big and we can sit inside and drink.’

‘Yes,’ I said, and a chasm in me opened.

We went into her tent. We sat down, she opened a bottle. We looked at each other. She made a grab for me, I made a grab for her, she lay down, I tore her T-shirt over her head and her breasts flopped out. I undid her trousers and pulled them down over her hips. Oh my God, so much flesh. I bent down and kissed her white thighs, stuck my nose in her black panties and at the same time stretched for her breasts with both hands, and then she said, get your clothes off, come on, hurry, hurry, I want you now, and I jumped up, dragged my T-shirt over my head and pulled down my trousers as I watched her wriggle out of her panties and lie there naked and raise her legs slightly as she parted them, and I could barely breathe, my underpants stuck out like a small tent and I took them off and sank down on her, she put her hand behind my head and I tried to enter her, missed the target, oh no, no, God, please not now, hang on, she said, I’ll help you, that’s it, yes, oh, there we are, and I was inside her and I managed to thrust twice before everything contracted and I held her tight.

Oh, it was brief and it was embarrassing.

She stroked my hair a few times.

I lay on my back beside her.

At least it had gone inside.

That was the first time.

I smiled.

‘Would you like some wine?’

‘Love some,’ she said.

We each took a swig.

‘How many girls have you had?’ she said.

I flushed and concealed my embarrassment by raising the bottle to my mouth again.

Then I pretended to count.

‘Ten, actually,’ I said.

‘That’s a lot,’ she said.

‘And you?’ I said.

‘Three.’

‘Three?’

‘Yes.’

‘Am I the third or the fourth?’

‘The third. But wouldn’t you like to be the fourth too?’

‘Yup.’

This time it went a bit better, perhaps twenty seconds passed before we were lying next to each other again. We drank more wine, I put my arm around her, snuggled up to her well-upholstered body, and that was how we fell asleep. When we woke up it was dark. We did it again, and then again.

We lay chatting, laughing and drinking, and I thought, is it true, is it really true, am I lying beside a naked girl with whom I can do what I want?

We fell asleep, when we woke up we made love again, and then we went for a walk, saw two minutes of a gig, shared a bottle of wine, and then we hurried back to the tent. We stayed there all day. We got drunker and drunker. I couldn’t get enough of her arse and her big soft breasts, could not fathom what happiness had befallen me. As we kept at it she suddenly lunged to the side and put her hand to her mouth, I knew what was happening and withdrew, she crawled over to the tent opening, pulled down the zip and then, with her backside in and her chest out, she spewed. Groaned and another spasm ran through her, and I saw her big arse before me, suddenly I couldn’t resist it, placed my hands on her hams, poked it in and began to pump away again.