Karl Knausgaard - Dancing in the Dark

She did ballet, and she was good, Kristin had said; after leaving school she was going to take the ballet school entrance exams.

The way she threw herself onto the sofa. The way her face could suddenly become quite open and artless when she smiled.

But this was no good. There was no point even thinking about it.

Yet I did.

There was only a week left of the summer job and I joined Yngve whenever he drove to Kristin’s, I enjoyed being in her home too, there was such a nice atmosphere, they were good people and it was reflected everywhere in the house.

I saw how Yngve was treated and how happy he was. I thought to myself, come on now, don’t be an idiot, just let him have it all.

But I also thought about Cecilie, because when she was in the room I could feel her presence with the whole of my body.

And I knew it was the same for her too.

First of all her parents left and went to bed. Then Yngve and Kristin left and went to bed.

We sat alone in the big living room, on opposite sides of the table. We made conversation, for we couldn’t talk about or show anything of what we felt, or rather of what I felt and of what I imagined she also felt.

‘I was there when they got together,’ I said. ‘At Vindilhytta. You should have seen it. It was really sweet.’

‘Yes, they are sweet,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

What kind of situation was this I suddenly found myself in? In a house on Tromøya alone with the sister of Yngve’s girlfriend?

Nothing wrong with the situation. Only with my feelings.

‘Well,’ she said with a yawn. ‘Time to go to bed.’

‘I’m going to stay up for a bit,’ I said.

‘See you at breakfast then.’

‘Yes, goodnight.’

‘Goodnight.’

She disappeared down the stairs, moving in that self-assured elegant way she had. Thank God I was going home soon and could put all this behind me.

The following evening, which was the last, I went to see Yngve, he was on the evening shift and served me an enormous pizza, which I ate at the table in the lobby while he worked and came over for a chat whenever he could. He said Cecilie and Kristin were in town. Kristin was coming here soon. He didn’t know what Cecilie was doing. But she came as well, I joined them, it was the last night, in very few hours I would be home again. Nevertheless, even though I knew it was stupid, I strung along with Cecilie, we walked side by side, we had nothing to say to each other, we just walked and listened to each other’s breathing, which was deep and tremulous, and then we hugged and kissed, again and again.

‘What are we doing?’ I said. ‘Can we do this?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that ever since I first saw you,’ she said, holding my face between her hands.

‘Me too,’ I said.

We stood wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time.

‘At the last moment,’ Cecilie said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Now you mustn’t have any regrets,’ she said. ‘Or rather, of course you can. But tell me if you do. Do you promise?’

‘I won’t have any regrets,’ I said. ‘I promise. Are you at home next weekend?’

She nodded.

‘Can I come and see you?’

She nodded again, we kissed for a last time and then I went, turned, she waved, I waved.

Yngve was standing behind the counter studying a sheet of paper when I went into the hotel to get the keys. I said nothing about what had happened. Were we going out together now? I wondered as I walked up Arendal’s steep hills in the hazy darkness of the late summer night. In which case how strange it would be for Yngve and me to be going out with two sisters! Wasn’t there something a bit circus-like about this? Roll up, roll up, come and see the two brothers who go out with two sisters! But why should I care? He lived in Bergen while I lived in Kristiansand, and soon he and Kristin would be in China.

This had completely bowled me over.

She was walking home now too, likewise bowled over.

Yngve drove me to the bus the following morning. I didn’t say anything then either. When I sat down in a window seat and looked for him, he was already on his way up the street.

I closed my eyes and could feel how thoroughly exhausted I was. As the bus turned into Grimstad town centre I was asleep and didn’t wake until it passed Kristiansand Zoo. I jumped off at the Timenes intersection and caught a different bus for the last part up to Boen. Out of habit I looked for a glimpse of Jan Vidar in his window as the bus crossed Solsletta, but he wasn’t there and his car wasn’t in the drive either.

I took out a cigarette and looked down at the waterfall, the last kilometre home was a drag, but I did finally manage to motivate myself and set off with my bag on my back.

As I came up the last hill I saw mum by the barrel we used to burn paper in. A thin, almost transparent flame flickered to and fro over the edge. She caught sight of me and walked down.

‘Hi,’ she said with a smile. ‘How was it?’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Everything all right here?’

She nodded.

‘I’ve been fine,’ she said.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘Think I’ll have a shower and change.’

‘You do that,’ she said. ‘I’ve made dinner. Just have to heat it. Are you hungry?’

‘Yes, starving.’

In the evening I sat at my desk reading, but I couldn’t settle, my thoughts ran hither and thither, and everywhere they went they confused me, none of them were as they had been. Now and then I looked out of the window, saw the garden merge imperceptibly into the dense forest behind the little potato patch, felt the trees close to us waiting or listening, darkness always gave me this sense, and as the gentle gusts of wind grew stronger the leaves trembled and the branches swayed. A week ago I had never seen her, hardly knew who she was. Now we were going out.

What about Hanne?

And the girl in the ice cream stand, what had that been?

It was as though I was faced with a jigsaw puzzle made of pieces from several sets. Nothing fitted, nothing made any sense.

I went downstairs to mum in the living room.

‘Are you sure you’ve been fine while I’ve been away?’ I said.

She put down the book she was reading on the table.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I really have been.’

‘You weren’t lonely?’

She smiled. ‘Not at all. I was at work. There was a lot to do. And then it was wonderful to come up here afterwards.’

Presumably roused by our voices, the cat padded across the floor with a sleepy face. He jumped straight into my lap and rested his heavy head on my thigh.

‘How about you?’ she asked.

I shrugged.

‘It was fine,’ I said. ‘I liked selling the cassettes on the street. In a way I lived from hand to mouth. Earned money during the day and spent it at night.’

‘Oh?’ mum said. ‘What did you spend it on?’

‘Well, various things,’ I said. ‘I went out for meals quite often, for example. That costs money. And then I had the odd beer with Yngve. But I’ve saved a bit too. I’ve brought a bag of money back with me. Nearly three thousand kroner.’

I hadn’t counted the money, in fact I had forgotten all about it, so now I got up and went into the hall to check and keep it in something more suitable than a plastic bag.

But the bag wasn’t there.

I had dropped it on the floor just inside the door, hadn’t I?

Yes. On top of the shoes. A white Beisland bag it had been. Full of creased notes.

Had mum put it away?

I went back into the living room.

‘The bag that was in the hall,’ I said. ‘Have you moved it?’

She looked up at me, her index finger keeping her place on the page.