Karl Knausgaard - Dancing in the Dark

‘Great,’ I said.

Yngve and Kristin had sat down on the sofa. They were looking around the way you do when you are somewhere new, discreetly absorbing their surroundings, constantly aware of each other, not necessarily with their glances but in the total way that lovers can be when everything is about the two of them. Kristin was a miracle of joy and naturalness, and that rubbed off on Yngve, he was fully open to it and wore an almost childish glow that he only had when he was with her.

Fredrik sat in his chair on the other side of the table and shyly answered the questions Yngve and Kristin asked him. He was a year younger than me, lived somewhere in Østland with his father, played football, was interested in fishing, liked U2 and The Cure.

I sat down in the chair beside him. On the wall above the sofa hung the blue picture by Sigvaldsen that dad had taken with him after the divorce, on the two longer walls there were more pictures we used to have at home. The suite of furniture in the other corner was the one dad had always had downstairs in his office, one of the carpets on the floor came from there too. I recognised the furniture from Unni’s flat.

Dad sat down on the sofa. He put one arm around Unni, in his other hand he held a bottle of beer. I remember thinking I was glad Yngve and Kristin were here.

Dad asked Yngve a question, which he answered briefly but not in an uncivil tone. Kristin slowly tried to bring harmony to the situation with questions about the town and the school where they worked. Unni answered.

After a while dad turned to Fredrik. His tone was light and good-natured. Fredrik’s body language was dismissive, it was obvious he didn’t like dad, and I could understand why. Only an imbecile would not have heard the false ring to dad’s voice, as though he were talking to a child, and not realised that he was doing this for Unni’s sake.

Fredrik gave a surly response, dad stared into the middle distance for some seconds, Unni said something kind but reproachful to Fredrick, who writhed with discomfort.

Dad sat motionless, drinking. Then he got to his feet, hitched up his trousers and went into the kitchen, where he started making dinner. We stayed in the living room chatting with Unni. By the time the food was on the table, at about eight, dad was drunk, he wanted to pour oil on troubled waters but his efforts were too bumbling and he made a fool of himself. Fredrik in particular suffered. We were used to dad, we had nothing else, but Fredrik had lost his mother to this idiot.

Dad sat silent for a long time with a stupid disgruntled expression on his face. Then he got up and went into the bedroom. Unni followed him, we heard their voices, they came back as though nothing had happened, chatted about the holiday they’d had and the dispute they were having with their travel company. It transpired that dad had collapsed in Gran Canaria, fallen over in the room, and had been driven to hospital by ambulance. He said it was heart failure. At any rate he had sued the tour operator because there had been several incidents — rows with the reps, rows with other tourists at the hotel — and now they reckoned that everyone had been against them, indeed bullied them almost, and that had led to dad’s heart problem. He had been kept at the hospital for two days. He showed us photos, and some of them were an unpleasant sight: we saw photos of a couple on a terrace, the camera zoomed in, the couple got up, shook their fists and walked towards the camera. What were they doing? See how cross they were, dad said. What fatheads. They’re as bad as Gunnar. What’s wrong with Gunnar then? Yngve said. Gunnar? dad repeated. OK, I’ll tell you. For a whole summer he was snooping round the flat in Elvegate. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, you know, making sure I wasn’t drinking. He’s so self-righteous, that brother of mine. He told me so too, that perhaps I ought to cut down, can you imagine? Is he his brother’s keeper? I was an adult when he was only knee-high to a grasshopper. Can’t a man have a beer in his own garden? He really went too far. And just look how he ingratiates himself with grandma and grandad. He’s after the cabin. He’s always wanted the cabin. And he’ll get it in the end. He’ll inject them with his poison as well.

I didn’t say anything. Met Yngve’s gaze.

How could he stoop so low? They were brothers, Gunnar was his younger brother, and he not only had some order in his life, the children he brought up were close to him, they trusted him, I could see that whenever I saw them, there was not a trace of fear in their eyes, on the contrary, they liked their father. If he had told dad he was drinking too much, he was perfectly within his rights, who else was going to say that? Me? Ha ha, don’t make me laugh. And the cabin? Gunnar was the only one of the brothers who used it and always had done, he loved living out there. Dad didn’t. If dad got his hands on the cabin he would sell it.

I watched him, he sat there with his eyes brimming and the slightly stupid expression around his mouth he always had when he was drunk.

‘Perhaps it would be best to show the slides tomorrow,’ Yngve said. ‘It’s already late.’

‘What slides?’ dad said.

‘Of China,’ Yngve said.

‘Oh, that’s right, yes,’ dad said.

Unni stretched her arms above her head.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘Now I really do have to go to bed.’

‘I’m coming too,’ dad said. ‘I’ll just have a few words with my two sons, who have come a long way to see their dad.’

Unni ruffled his hair and went into their bedroom. As soon as the door was closed Fredrik got up.

‘Goodnight,’ he said.

‘Are you off too?’ dad said. ‘You aren’t pregnant, are you?’

He laughed, I looked at Fredrik and raised my eyebrows to indicate to him that he wasn’t alone in what he thought.

‘I’m tired too,’ Kristin said. ‘Either it’s the journey or it’s the sea air. Whichever it is, it’s goodnight anyway!’

After she had gone we three sat saying nothing. Dad gazed into the air and finished his beer, then fetched another. I wasn’t drunk, but I could feel the alcohol.

‘Here we are then,’ dad said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Just like in the old days. Do you remember, in Tybakken? Yngve and Karl Ove. Sitting in the kitchen and having breakfast.’

‘How could we ever forget?’ Yngve said.

‘Yes,’ said dad. ‘It wasn’t an easy time for me either. I’d like you to know that.’

‘Times aren’t easy for lots of people,’ Yngve said. ‘But it’s not everyone who takes it out on their children.’

‘No,’ dad said. He started crying. ‘I’m so happy to have you here,’ he said.

‘Do you have to get so sentimental?’ Yngve said. ‘Can’t we talk about this in a normal fashion?’

‘Unni’s got a new life in her tummy now. It’ll be either your brother or your sister. Think about that.’

He smiled through the tears, dried them, emptied the bottle and rolled himself a cigarette.

Yngve and I exchanged glances. It was hopeless, you got nothing from him but hot air.

‘I’m going to bed,’ Yngve said.

Dad said nothing as he left. I didn’t want him to be on his own and stayed a little while longer, but when he made no sign of either leaving or speaking, and just sat there staring into the room, in the end I got up too and went to bed.

After breakfast next day Yngve, Kristin, Fredrik and I went to town and wandered through the snow-covered windblown night-black streets. While Yngve and Kristin went into a clothes shop I sat in a café chatting to Fredrik. We exchanged a few names of bands, established a kind of base and then we started talking about what we could actually do in this godforsaken town. We couldn’t just sit on our hands in the flat. He said there was a swimming pool not far away, perhaps we could go there later in the day? That’s a good idea, Unni said when we went home. Yes, a great idea, dad said from inside the living room. I haven’t been to a pool in years. Are you going to join them?! Unni said. Yes, why not? he said. I could see Fredrik wasn’t happy, but I thought it might be OK, the evening was a long time away. Unni drove us because dad had drunk a couple of beers. We went into the changing room with our gear and sat down on the bench.