Christian Jungersen - The Exception

Only when she’s home and has taken a shower does she call Henrik. While she talks to him, she wanders from room to room in her white dressing gown with her damp hair wrapped in a white towel. Something significant happened today. She feels deeply uneasy, but after the hot bath it all seems rather remote.

Henrik is shouting into the phone. ‘That’s it! You’ve got to stop working there! They’ll kill you next!’

‘But, you know, when they saw me covered in blood, they were so upset. They felt genuinely sorry for me. At least, Iben and Camilla did.’

Anne-Lise is on her way to the kitchen. ‘I think they regretted it. Maybe they’ve got their anger out of their system now. Maybe this will be the end of it.’

‘Anne-Lise, it will not be the end.’

‘But they helped me clean up, you know. I think they felt shocked at what they’d done.’

‘Anne-Lise — try to get it into your head. They. Will. Not. Stop.’

Anne-Lise doesn’t answer him.

Henrik takes a deep breath. For a moment he can’t think of what to say. Then he makes up his mind. ‘I’m coming home now. I’ll tell everyone that I’m not feeling well. I’ll be with you in twenty minutes.’

In the kitchen, Anne-Lise makes a cheese roll. She drifts about, bare feet on the parquet, while she eats.

Maybe it is not just the others who have rid themselves of their anger. She too has purged herself of something, only she doesn’t yet know what it is.

Anne-Lise hears the engine of Henrik’s Audi outside. He storms into the hall.

‘Right, Anne-Lise, you’re coming with me. I’ve told Yngve what you’ve had to put up with and he says he can see you straight away. Let’s go.’ Henrik would have liked to drag Anne-Lise to the car at once, but she has to get dressed and tidy herself up.

Yngve is their family doctor. They have been with him for years, long before they moved to Holte. When Henrik had trouble with his knee after a car accident, Yngve was more helpful than the orthopaedic consultant. Later, when they were trying for a baby and Anne-Lise initially failed to get pregnant, Yngve again impressed them more than the gynaecologist she had been referred to.

Yngve is now in his fifties, but people still seem to find him exceptionally attractive. He wears his dark hair cut short and keeps his powerful, square chin clean-shaven. His voice is deep and melodious.

Somehow Anne-Lise always has the impression that he is a lonely man. She wonders if he is gay. There’s definitely something different about him.

The receptionist shows them into his consultation room. It smells faintly of soap and the medicinal scents of bandages and antiseptics. Henrik and Anne-Lise settle into the two cheap black-plastic chairs. Yngve has never bothered to refurbish his offices.

He comes into the room, sits down and puts his large hands on the desk, palms down. Then he turns to Anne-Lise and asks her why she has come today.

She doesn’t get very far before he interrupts her. ‘Sorry, Anne-Lise. I want to make it clear from the start that any kind of systematic bullying is deadly — more dangerous than drinking or smoking. The victims sometimes think they can hold out and deal with the situation, but it’s impossible.’

‘Yes.’

‘I see quite a few people who have been bullied in my practice. Sometimes they commit suicide, or they contract illnesses. Some die. Some become unemployable, others start drinking or doing drugs. One way or another, being bullied does enormous damage.’

Henrik straightens up and turns to Anne-Lise. For the moment he thinks that he and Yngve are of one mind. ‘You see. You have to go on sick leave. Tell them tomorrow and resign. Not one more day in that place.’

Yngve taps a small notebook on the desktop. ‘Right. That certainly is one solution. But I’m afraid I believe it’s the wrong one.’

Anne-Lise casts a sidelong glance at Henrik. His only reaction is to stay perched on his flimsy chair, smiling and waiting, curious to hear why the doctor thinks that he’s wrong.

Anne-Lise wants to have her say. ‘I’ve installed a program on my office computer that deletes any evidence of Internet searches. Now I can spend time at work checking jobseekers’ sites and sending off applications.’

Yngve smiles at her. ‘Good idea. Have you applied to anywhere yet?’

‘During the last six months I’ve applied twenty-two times, but I wasn’t called for interview even once. I’ve followed up each one and I phoned to ask what was wrong, as you should. But they get so many applications and always pick someone younger.’

Henrik adds, ‘Which is why we’ve stopped applying for a bit.’

‘Yes. Just for a bit. I needed a break. For now.’

Yngve puts his hands together. ‘Anne-Lise, you have three options. One, you allow yourself to be pushed out of your job and, the way the market operates now, you might never work again. Two, you stay and let the others carry on bullying you. But you have a third option: stay on and make the others stop persecuting you.’

Henrik is surprised. ‘I thought that the experts agreed that when you’re being bullied, the best thing to do is get out as quickly as possible? Because it’s a battle you can’t win?’

‘That’s what they say.’

Conventional wisdom doesn’t influence Yngve. As he speaks, it’s clear that he is indifferent to ‘the experts’. His calm, brown eyes rest first on Anne-Lise, then on Henrik.

‘Anne-Lise, if you resign, you will spend the rest of your life thinking of yourself as a loser, and of the world as an evil place. It’s destructive. But if you let them work you over, they will destroy you. My advice is to confront them. Can you do that?’

At first Anne-Lise couldn’t see the point of Henrik’s insistence on seeing their doctor. Now she feels it was a very good idea.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Excellent. I’m glad to hear you say that. Having got to know you over all these years, I’m sure you can. And I’m convinced you’ll be able to change your working conditions.’

There is something about the doctor’s manner, the way he speaks in his deep voice, that makes Anne-Lise trust him implicitly. Now he’s smiling at her.

‘Do you believe me when I say you can change things at work?’

‘Yes … yes, I do.’

‘Good.’

Anne-Lise observes Yngve’s large hands. He is leaning forward in his chair, poised to go on to the next item on the agenda.

‘I want you to know that no one has been able to demonstrate any common personality traits in people who have been subjected to bullying at work. It has been studied, of course. The usual theory is that bullies go for people who are socially maladjusted in some way — introverts or slackers or incompetents or whatever. None of this turns out to be true. On the contrary, it’s often the more able members of staff who are picked on. But there does seem to be one recurring aspect in the victim’s personality, which is that they, to a greater extent than their colleagues, dislike being confrontational. They are rather passive, hoping that their tormentors will stop. Which doesn’t happen, of course. So, there you are, Anne-Lise. Are you afraid of standing up to your colleagues?’

Anne-Lise thinks about what a special person the doctor is. Coming from someone else, his paternal tone would be almost offensive, but from Yngve it seems completely desirable and convincing.

‘I wasn’t scared in my previous job. But what is important to me right now is being included in their group, so naturally I avoid making waves. There’s something else: I always feel that something dreadful will happen if I do express my opinion about anything at all.’