Peter Stjernström - The Best Book in the World

He sneaks out of Eddie’s house and starts walking home quickly. He must air his brain, think and try to sort out his alternatives.

Option one. He hits the bottle quick as hell and hopes that Astra forgives him for this one and only escapade. He’ll grovel at her feet, petition for mercy and hope she will still have faith in him. At the same time he will warn Astra about Eddie. But why should she believe him? And what should he claim to be the danger from Eddie? No, he can’t hit the bottle to save himself. That would risk everything. Better to be obsessed than dependent. Forget it. Not a good alternative.

Option two. He tells it like it is. That his paranoia drove him to break into Eddie’s house and that he had searched his computer and now considered he could prove that a historic theft of ideas is under way, and that Eddie is intending to carry out a pretentious seduction of Astra with the help of horrible sailing metaphors. No, that isn’t going to work; he cannot reveal to a single living soul that he, Titus Jensen, has deliberately broken into the home of one of the most popular figures in the country. Christ, no. He drops that idea too.

Option three. He can resort to yet another white lie and concoct a half-truth. He can say that he sent his ‘relapse’ text purely to arouse Astra’s attention. That much is true. And then he can say that he happened to meet Eddie’s mate Lenny in town, and that according to him Eddie has boasted about how easy it would be to get Astra into bed, that she has completely fallen for him and now all Eddie has to do is to bait the hook. Titus can say that he does of course know that Astra is fully capable of looking after herself, but that she nevertheless must be informed as to the rules of Eddie’s dirty game. If Eddie only sees Astra as a trophy, then she must be appraised of the fact. It is his obligation as a friend to tell the bitter truth. He apologises for his abrupt text message but felt that something special was required to gain her attention. Titus realises deep inside that a teenage-like seduction boast doesn’t fit in very well with Eddie’s character, but he also feels that he doesn’t have the time or the ability to find other ways out of his dilemma. He has to give it a try, and it is at any rate not a completely rotten strategy. With a bit of luck it might just hit home. Or rather, it simply must work.

He is soon home again. He turns his phone on and waits for Astra to ring. Because she is going to, isn’t she? Surely?

When Astra climbs into the taxi, she is rather bewildered by all the emotions rushing around inside her. She has had a wonderful evening with Eddie: wild sailing, romantic dinner, intimate conversation, night swimming and kissing in the nude – all within the course of a few hours. What a pace! They are probably beginning to fall in love with each other, she thinks, and smiles to herself. She would never have thought that she would fall for a guy with extra-large coloured silk shirts. She is usually waylaid by blokes with expensive suits and smart hairstyles. Astra has no idea which women Eddie has had, but she doesn’t think they usually have an electronic calendar and ten-thousand-kronor shoes in their hall. But evidently opposites attract each other; the greater the charge at the ends, the greater the magnetism.

She tries to phone Titus again. Perhaps he has turned his phone on now.

Titus is sitting at the kitchen table staring at his mobile phone, and answers immediately when it rings:

‘Hi Astra. Where are you?’

‘I’m sitting in a taxi. But where are you? What’s happened?’

‘I’m at home. Can you come over?’ he says in a serious but short tone.

‘Sure. Are you all right?’

‘We can talk more when you’re here.’

Titus doesn’t even notice that Astra has no make-up and that her hair has that after-sex look. As soon as she comes in, he takes her hand and leads her to the computer. He bends down and puts the tube into his mouth. The breathalyser-lock approves his breath and the computer welcomes him to a new work session. He spreads his hands.

‘There, you see? I’m sober.’

‘Yes, I see that. I’m very pleased, I must say. What the hell are you playing at, really?’

Titus looks seriously at Astra and says that he’ll tell her everything.

And he does.

He tells her why he was forced to send her a false text message. How and why he came across Lenny. That Lenny was sloshed and blurted out everything Eddie had said about how he was going to mount Astra. How Lenny laughed and was twitching and jerking at the same time as he was obviously deeply impressed by Eddie’s ability to seduce women. How he imitated Eddie’s obscene gestures with which described that the final conquest would take place on all fours. That Titus hadn’t really believed Lenny, but that Lenny could even quote from a poem Eddie had written about Astra. Some rubbish about something that ‘shines all shiny’ and how he would shag her on his boat Come aboard amour. And that Eddie had said to Lenny that as soon as he had Astra on the hook then he would start pumping her for information about Titus’ new book.

That last bit wasn’t really planned. It just sort of slipped out.

Titus becomes silent and realises he can’t just keep on gabbling non-stop. He must give Astra a chance to digest it all.

The strategy has worked. He can see that from her long face. He isn’t proud of himself, but he does feel that what he has saved is of considerable value.

‘I didn’t know what to do! All I knew was that you were on a sailing date with Eddie. And I know Eddie, he can twist anybody round his little finger. I just had to do something. Do you understand?’

Astra stares at Titus. The words from Titus’ outburst whirl around inside her head, but don’t form any proper meaning. Shines all shiny… shines all shiny… shines all shiny… the words create a little whirlpool in her brain like water draining from a bathtub. At first you hardly notice anything, there is just a little trace of movement on the surface. But soon the laws of gravity and the forces of nature get the upper hand. The whirlpool makes demands, and it takes with it everything it can see on its increasingly wild clockwise journey. It can even suck a big toe into the drain.

In Astra’s head, the shines-all-shiny whirlpool whizzes around faster and faster. It soon sucks down common sense, which until now has managed to swim calmly and sensibly on the surface. Perspective and discernment join the roundabout too. ‘Shines all shiny’ grows into a maelstrom. She recognises that expression all too well: they are Eddie’s words, no doubt about it. She feels disgusted, partly by the idea that Eddie had planned his romantic attack upon her. Can it really be true? She is also disgusted to have been a subject of discussion between two cultural misfits at a pub as if she were just some damned plaything. She has no wish whatsoever to be the focus of their conversation. Why is she sitting here in the middle of the night in the flat of a nutty has-been who not only interferes in her life but also thinks he is capable of writing a book that can top the bestseller lists in several different categories? How did she get sucked into this swamp? This is crazy, why couldn’t she have an ordinary job instead? Lawyer, accountant, bank director, any bloody job at all?

But no way is she ever going to descend to Titus’ Neanderthal level and start crying or talking it out with him. Never ever. Coolness and professionalism, these are the only things that work with these decrepit old men.

‘I don’t know what to say, Titus. This is just too much. You make me so tired.’

‘I know, Astra. I’m sorry that it turned out like this. At first I didn’t know what I should do. But I was forced to tell you the truth.’