Christian Jungersen - The Exception

Once home from work, Anne-Lise went straight to the kitchen and now, with the guests due to arrive in three-quarters of an hour, Henrik has joined her. They send the children off to play in the garden, but Ulrik and Clara are too excited and keep running back into the kitchen. To keep them occupied, Anne-Lise gives them a game of garden quoits so she and Henrik have time to prepare the food.

Their idea is to stick to an autumn menu. Anne-Lise cuts up root vegetables for the soup, while pieces of bacon for the garnish are frying in a pan. Henrik washes the mushrooms for one of his famous three party pieces, a casserole, which will go nicely with the venison steaks. He’s bending low over the sink and his thin six-foot frame makes him look out of place. They have talked about getting another sink that is higher, but it’s pointless, since he is seldom in the kitchen.

It would help Henrik more if he could change the way he sits at work. Spending sixty hours a week in the bank has meant that his posture has grown steadily worse.

While he chops the mushrooms, Henrik natters on. ‘I’ve often fantasised that I’m a guest at a dinner party and find that Malene and several of her family and friends have been invited too. When the hostess tells me that I’m seated next to Malene, I reply that I don’t want to sit anywhere near her. I say calmly, but loudly enough for everyone to hear it, “I’m so sorry — anyone but Malene Jensen.” And the hostess will wonder why. What’s wrong with dear Malene, so young and talented and pretty? And in such a fascinating job as well.’

Anne-Lise looks up from her work. Henrik is still wearing his office clothes: white shirt and neatly pressed trousers. There’s a concerned frown on his face.

‘I’d have to explain and I would. I’d say, “It’s offensive, I know, but I simply could not bear having Malene next to me at the table. If I can’t sit away from her I shall have to leave.” In my fantasy, the other guests become anxious and stare, but I’m not bothered. In front of these people, who all think they know her, I continue: “Every day at work Malene torments my wife Anne-Lise. My wife is developing problems with stress as a direct result of Malene’s behaviour. I would rather sit beside a drug-addled gangster. She’s so mean and selfish. She may appear to be well-educated and privileged, but she clearly couldn’t care less that her behaviour is making our entire family suffer.”’

Anne-Lise tips the chopped vegetables into the blender. ‘You don’t think I’m a bad mother, do you?’

‘No, no. Not at all! You know that. But what if Malene is really making you physically ill?’

She pulls his face down close to kiss his cheek quickly before she adds the celery to the blender. ‘Do you think you would truly do all that … what you just said?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Something tells me that the guests would still believe that Malene is a wonderful person. And you’d never be invited back.’

‘They wouldn’t take kindly to it, of course. At dinner parties you’re meant to behave yourself and make polite conversation. It’s at home and at work that people show their true colours. I suppose people must think she is a fine woman.’

Clara, their daughter, has come in, complaining that Ulrik, her older brother, has hit her.

Anne-Lise takes the sizzling pan off the burner. ‘Did he hit you? Show me where it hurts and I’ll blow on it.’

Clara sobs, but it doesn’t sound that bad.

Anne-Lise and Henrik have lived together for nearly twenty years, but waited longer than most before starting a family. Anne-Lise wanted to give Henrik space and time to satisfy his youthful ambitions and capacity for hard work. If they waited, she’d thought, they would both have more time to enjoy their children and their home life. Many years passed before she realised that Henrik would never change. It was a stark choice for her: would she take on the whole burden of raising the children or resign herself to being childless? She made her decision and has coped well, feeling that she has grown as a person. Henrik is working at least as hard as she does. He has had a meteoric career as an economist with a major Danish bank. It is thanks to his income that they were able to buy a large house and turn it into the home they had always wanted.

‘But even if I were never invited back, they would have something to think about. Afterwards, they might see Malene differently and maybe it would occur to them to wonder about her now and then. “What does go on inside her head when she’s not having a good time? — when she’s not dressed up and smiling at us? God knows. Is she really a witch, as that man claims?” I’d do the same to Iben and Camilla. They all deserve it.’

‘I had no idea that you’ve been dreaming about revenge on my behalf.’

‘I haven’t. I only want to tell the truth. They’re ganging up against my lovely wife.’

Clara is allowed some of the berries set aside for the pudding and runs out to Ulrik again. Anne-Lise returns the frying pan to the cooker.

‘Henrik, what can I say? You paint quite a picture!’

A knock on the door. Children’s voices in the driveway.

Anne-Lise calls from the bedroom. ‘You open it. I’m not quite ready.’

She throws herself on the bed. She hasn’t had a minute’s peace since she closed the DCGI door behind her this afternoon. She looks up at the white ceiling. Such a large, smooth surface, like a glacier. She stretches out her arms. The white bedspread follows her movement and the folds form a pattern. It’s like making angel’s wings in the snow.

As if I were dead, she thinks. The thought is meaningless.

Ulrik rushes into the room. Her fragment of peace shatters. She gets up and helps him find a plastic lizard that he wants to show the other children. Then she walks downstairs.

‘Lovely to see you!’

‘Many happy returns! Thank you for asking us!’

‘Of course. We’re so pleased you could come.’

Their cheeks are glowing as they step from the cold autumn evening into the golden lamplight of the hall.

‘What a tempting smell!’

‘I do hope you’ll like it.’

The children are jostling to get their coats off in the small hall. Mette bends to hand her son two little parcels. ‘Now, off you go to find Ulrik and Clara, and give them their presents.’

The adults, still trying to deal with their own coats, keep bumping into each other.

‘Sorry!’

‘Don’t worry. Here, have a hanger.’

‘Oh, Henrik, hello! Happy birthday!’

‘Thank you. We wanted to wait and have a big party, but when neither Lotte and Michael nor Rikke and Morten could make it for the next two weekends, we thought …’

‘Happy birthday! And, for you, a small token …’

‘Thank you! That’s very nice of you.’

Henrik leads the way into the sitting room, where he offers everyone a glass of white wine.

Anne-Lise stands in front of the hall mirror. Her body is still tense. This is how she feels each morning, when the alarm clock cuts into the middle of a dream. Even in her sleep, she can sense that something is wrong. Soon everything will fall apart.

But she is at home, and she’s awake. She must force herself to believe that the Centre isn’t the only reality. Her anxiety stays with her, however, as she joins the others.

Henrik raises his glass.

‘Cheers — and welcome!’

Upstairs the alarm clock ticks away on the small grey bedside table. The dream will end, and soon she will be walking through the dark morning to face another day.

Training to become a librarian was something that had appealed to Anne-Lise partly because she had so many happy memories of going to the library as a child. Every evening, when her parents closed their grocery store, she would go to bed in her room over the shop and read long, difficult novels. She’d always dreamed of a job working with books.