Christian Jungersen - The Exception

There’s a crash outside the office — a tray or something — but Yngve’s face doesn’t register a thing.

‘Yes, I see. It makes it easier to push you around. Listen.’

‘Yes?’

‘These characters will become more and more aggressive as time goes by. The essential thing is to make them realise there are limits. This far and no farther.’

Yngve seems more pensive than usual. Could it be that he was once bullied too, perhaps long ago? She cannot ask him.

‘Bullying is very common among children, both at school and in after-school clubs and so forth. Teachers spend hours telling the kids not to be bullies and devising punishments for them if they are found out. Political initiatives are aimed solely at putting an end to bullying, all doomed to fail, or so it seems. Now and then bullied children have been brought to see me. Almost invariably they suffer from serious illnesses or psychological trauma, rooted in their victimisation.’

He picks up a biro, balances it on the palm of his hand and stares at it for a moment. Then he looks up at them. ‘Adult bullying is less well recognised, but it is also common. Maybe you think I’m being melodramatic, but I take bullying as seriously as heart disease or cancer. I do and I should.’

Anne-Lise wonders whether Yngve has a lover. If he really is gay, that is.

‘The fact is, people kill each other. Regardless of whatever action is taken and whatever we are taught, victimising others is part of human nature.’

What Yngve says is quite different from the views of the genocide researchers Anne-Lise is familiar with. At DCGI she has read articles about ordinary people killing other ordinary people, but the investigators always argue that the circumstances were exceptional, and start with the premise that, for human beings, co-operation and kindness are the norm. None of these research papers has ever said that murder is an unavoidable outcome of ‘human nature’, yet Yngve’s view has resonance.

‘We eat, we reproduce, we protect those closest to us. And we reject those who are different from us and kill our rivals. Human beings try, more or less effectively, to exert control over our instincts. We are different from animals in that we have exceptional will power. For instance, in no other species is there an entire community where no one has sex. Just think of the Vatican.

‘But most people give in to temptation at some point. Your concentration slips for just a moment and there you are: being unfaithful, eating fattening foods, or slowly torturing a colleague to death. The latter, of course, is forbidden, so a person may prefer not to be conscious of what they’re doing — like a form of self-deception.

‘Consider your colleagues’ states of mind, Anne-Lise. They feel a little like you would, if you were alone one evening, watching television and feeling peckish with a large bowl of crisps sitting in front of you. You’re determined not to eat them and stick to your resolve, but if the programme captures your attention, you forget and start reaching for the crisps. Before you realise it, they’re gone. You may not even be able to recall having eaten them.

‘That’s what you are to your colleagues: a temptation. At the outset they may well have decided to be pleasant towards you. Or maybe they never did. Either way, they still see you as a rival and, without planning to, there will be times when they can’t resist going after you. The reaction is so instinctive that, afterwards, they’ll hardly remember.’

Yngve is very persuasive, but his arguments upset Anne-Lise. Still, something about the man makes her sit calmly and listen. Henrik has also been very quiet. She can hear Yngve’s receptionist rummaging about on the other side of the door, no doubt cleaning up whatever was spilled. Anne-Lise considers how she has always thought of Yngve as being lonely, even though she knows absolutely nothing about his private life. Does it have something to do with his intelligence, or was she responding intuitively to the faintly depressed tone that never quite leaves his voice?

They agree that Anne-Lise shouldn’t accuse the others of having rigged the blood trap. Without proof, she would be fighting a losing battle and it would expose her even more to her colleagues’ anger.

‘Anne-Lise, can you think of something they’ve done that was clearly wrong? Or an argument you’re certain to win if there’s a confrontation?’

‘I’m not sure. I make wrong decisions all the time and I do stupid things. My head is bursting with how horrible it all is. I’m not my normal self.’

‘Of course, that’s understandable. But things will change. Look forward to that, even though it’s hard for you now.’

The receptionist comes in to say the next patient is waiting. She speaks quickly as if she is scared of Yngve. He answers pleasantly enough and turns back to Anne-Lise.

‘Haven’t you witnessed anything they’ve done that goes against the Centre’s interests?’

Anne-Lise reflects carefully. ‘One of the users, a man called Erik Prins, told me that Malene had given him false information about library searches, just to keep him away from me. That could be—’

‘Would you have put up with that in your previous job?’

‘Not for a moment.’

‘There you are! Be confident. It’s unacceptable now as well.’ He flattens his hands on the table top again. ‘This is a battle you can win, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Excellent.’ He gets up and shakes their hands, first Henrik’s and then Anne-Lise’s. ‘I want to see you again. It’s my job to deal with any issue that’s seriously threatening your well-being, whether it be physical or psychological. You are not going to let your colleagues push you into unemployment. You will fight them.’

‘Yes. Yes, I will.’

‘Very good. Now, let’s decide when you should come back and tell me how things have progressed. Maybe in about three weeks’ time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Just ask for an appointment at reception.’

When Anne-Lise and Henrik step outside, they’re both surprised that it is still bright. It feels as if it should be evening by now, but the incident at DCGI was only a few hours ago. They have several hours before they need to collect the children.

Anne-Lise keeps her promise to Yngve, but afterwards her life at work doesn’t get any better. It has done her no good to confront Malene about Erik Prins. Malene simply shifts the blame and demands to know who the user is. Anne-Lise is more at fault than ever.

The Winter Garden seems quieter now that the door is always open. They speak in low voices, or email each other, or wander off to talk in the kitchen or the meeting rooms. A few times Anne-Lise has surprised them using a made-up sign language and giggling a lot.

During lunch Iben gives her little lectures, often based on the books she reads when she can’t sleep. These days she seems to be sticking to psychiatry textbooks. While Iben goes on about mental health problems, she watches Anne-Lise. It’s plain for all to see that Iben thinks Anne-Lise must be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder.

One evening after yet another hostile day of pointed remarks and hints that she’s somehow deranged, Anne-Lise is reading Little House in the Big Woods to her children. Ulrik and Clara are both in Ulrik’s room. Clara is lying on her back in the lower bunk, balancing her Barbie doll on her tummy. Sometimes her lips form soundless words; sometimes she mumbles. She seems not to be listening, but the next day she will remember everything that happened in the story.

Ulrik is in the upper bunk. He has pushed the duvet away and rests his head on the edge of the bed.