Christian Jungersen - The Exception

Erik often comes to the Centre to read or look for new books. When he has been sitting in the Large Meeting Room they usually need to air it afterwards. He likes to eat while he reads and his dull food parcels always carry a powerful smell of liver sausage and damp rye bread. Even so, Malene has always singled Erik out among the users of the Centre and gives him the best possible support. She often finds time for a chat as well. They talk about this and that, including Erik’s old classmate from his time as a history student, Frederik Thorsteinsson.

Paul has told them that, on several occasions, the DCGI board has noted Erik’s praise of the Centre’s excellent service. Without fail, Frederik passes Erik’s opinions on to the board and his pronouncements have come to be regarded as practically infallible. The members are highly educated researchers, experts in their fields, who feel that the shabby little man speaks for Everyman, and is a perfect representative of the Centre’s typical user.

Iben smiles, but she is concerned. ‘I must say, I’ve never heard of anyone who hasn’t been happy with your work. And Erik, of all people! That spoilt little man!’

She doesn’t give a damn if Anne-Lise can hear what she’s saying, but she lowers her voice slightly to keep Paul out of it.

‘Maybe he complimented Anne-Lise. You know, like you do when you first collaborate with somebody new — oiling the wheels, kind of thing. He’ll have told her something like she’s very good at her job and he wishes he had known about her before.’

Iben’s eyes shift away uneasily, just for a second. Then she continues: ‘That’s the kind of thing a person would say. He could’ve said it to you. Or to me, or anybody.’

Malene leans back in her chair with a weary sigh. ‘True. Everyone says things like that, just to be friendly. It’s too bad that Anne-Lise takes it all so seriously.’

But later on, when Malene and Iben get together in the copier room, Malene brings up the subject again. Iben realises this will take some time and sits down on the table. The copier thumps on and on, copying, sorting and stapling a large selection of newspaper cuttings that Camilla should have got ready for circulation to the board today. Now Iben has taken on the job.

Malene paces restlessly up and down. ‘I’ve been thinking about what Anne-Lise said. How come she says that I’ve tried to exclude her? She obviously believes it. Maybe she has cross-examined Erik about it.’

Iben tucks her hands under her thighs. ‘Or it could be a bit of everything? He thought that he’d better be kind and she responded by questioning him.’

‘Yes, and he felt pressured to say something about me and they’ve ended up discussing me in detail. We mustn’t forget that now he depends on her, more than on anyone else here. Being on good terms with her is more important for Erik than getting on with me now. It’s Anne-Lise who can give him special treats.’

‘Yep. Now what?’

‘Iben, this is important. If she goes on gossiping behind my back, she might turn lots of people against me. Like Frederik. And Ole. Anyone.’

‘She could.’

‘Yes. So I must find out.’

Today Paul joins them for lunch. The atmosphere is tense, although nobody mentions Erik Prins or the conversation in the library. Earlier, Malene went down to the supermarket to get fresh rolls. She asked if she could get anything for anyone else. Anne-Lise handed her the money to buy a portion of carpaccio, the kind that comes with olive oil and grated Parmesan. Now she says that everyone must have some, but apart from Paul no one does.

After a while Iben cannot bear the silence, which is broken only by terse exchanges; she decides to tell them about the book she has been reading into the small hours of the morning. Grith lent it to her the other day.

‘It’s about split personalities. It’s a fact that nine out of ten patients are women. And almost all of them have been subjected to violence or other abuse in childhood. The author puts it quite plainly: “A split personality is a little girl imagining that the abuse is directed towards another person.” Which is why at least one of the personalities is often still a little girl.’

Grith’s book is called Dissociative Identity Disorder: Diagnosis, Clinical Features and Treatment of Multiple Personality . Maybe this isn’t an ideal subject for discussion right now, but Iben tries to speak without hinting at any of the office subtexts.

‘It’s very hard for anyone to know if she has DID — a split identity, that is. As your “normal self”, you can’t recall having had a bad childhood. Many patients forget altogether and might even remember the man who abused them as a good person.’

The others stay focused on their food and don’t respond to what she is telling them. They do seem interested, though, so Iben carries on.

‘The best indication is that you can’t remember what you’ve done for a period of time, or you feel you’ve been behaving out of character. But it’s not cut and dried. A survey of people with no psychological problems showed that about 75 per cent of the subjects have had moments when they easily did something that they used to think was difficult. More than 50 per cent said that after driving a car for a long time, there where whole stretches of the journey they couldn’t remember. And one out of every ten said they’d found themselves wearing clothes they couldn’t remember putting on.’

Suddenly Malene laughs, just as she is about to bite into her cheese sandwich. ‘Iben, you’re such an anorak! Come on, what next? A blow-by-blow account of someone’s thesis on post-colonial literature?’

Iben stops rattling off any more of the study results.

After the break, Iben senses that Malene again has something to say, for her ears only. The two of them wait for the others to leave the room. Ole, the board chairman, phones and wants to speak to Paul, who hurries off. Anne-Lise does not leave and makes a show of settling down with the daily paper.

Malene and Iben give up and wander back to their desks. While she was out shopping, Malene had called Erik Prins.

‘He swore that under no circumstances would he have said anything about not being pleased with my work. It seems that Anne-Lise was fishing for something she could use against me. At least, that’s the impression Erik got.’

Malene has been composed throughout the lunch break. Now, she is sputtering with anger. ‘I’m going to ask Paul to see me. There’s no way I can put up with the way Anne-Lise keeps undermining my standing with the users. I have to work with them every day. She’s going around looking for chances to bad-mouth me. It’s so disloyal and unprofessional, trying to stab me in the back like that.’ She leans forward. ‘Paul must understand that we’ve stood by that woman for long enough. And it’s likely that she’s the emailer. The idea that it’s Camilla’s ex-boyfriend is just stupid!’

Anne-Lise walks by and Iben and Malene fall silent. With Anne-Lise back in the library they must finish their talk elsewhere.

The coffee Thermos is full and they have already spent a long time in the copier room, which means that they have just about used up any legitimate excuse. That’s too bad, though. What they were talking about can’t wait.

In the kitchen the rickety dishwasher is churning and the smell of the washing powder mixes with the ever-present smell of coffee. The air is hot and damp from the steam that escapes from the whirling hot water. Side by side, they perch on the edge of the kitchen table.

Malene puts a hand to her forehead. Then she asks Iben to come along to the talk with Paul. ‘You know he always takes what you say seriously.’

‘What about Camilla? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until all three of us are here so we can see him together?’