Karl Knausgaard - Some Rain Must Fall

Tonje went to a seminar in Kristiansand, I had the whole day and night to write in, she came home three days later, wanted to go straight to a party, her band, made up of NRK staff, was going to play, she asked if I wanted to go with her, but I had to write, she went alone. After an hour I regretted my decision and went anyway, saw her playing the drums, I was moved for some reason, but when I went over to her afterwards and she was packing up the kit she was evasive, wouldn’t look me in the eye and wouldn’t talk. I knew that side of her, something was bothering her.

She carried the cymbal stands along the corridor, I had the snare drum in my hands, and I asked her to tell me what was up. I know there’s something, so tell me what it is. I can see something’s eating you.

‘I wasn’t going to tell you,’ she said. ‘But since you ask I will. I’ve been unfaithful.’

‘In Kristiansand? Just now?’

‘Yes.’

I looked at her. She looked at me.

I was angry. The thought that she had given herself to another man was terrible, but I was relieved too, now it wasn’t only me at fault.

When we got home we sat in my office as we had done a year earlier. I was no longer in a state of shock, since what had happened, what she had done, was no more than an extension of what I had done, but it was as terrible.

‘Why did you do it?’ I said. ‘I was so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing. But you never do anything on impulse. You knew what you were doing.’

‘I don’t know. I think it’s because you were suddenly so happy. Suddenly you were walking around beaming with happiness. You’ve been depressed for four years, ever since the autumn your father died and you made your debut, and it’s been so hard, so little fun. I’ve tried, I’ve tried everything. And then you start writing and you’re happy again! That was just so immensely provocative. It feels as if I have nothing to do with your life. It feels as if I’m on the outside. That was the last straw and, I thought, well, what the hell. And then I did it.’

I put my face in my hands.

I looked at her.

‘What do we do now?’ I said.

‘I don’t know.’

We went to bed, early next morning I packed a suitcase and travelled up to Yngve’s, he had moved to Voss. I was there for two days, talked to him, he thought I should stay with her. We were quits. Tonje was a fantastic person, I shouldn’t leave her.

I caught the train back to Tonje, we talked all night, I had decided to leave. I wanted to get away from everything. We kept everything open, it wasn’t finished, nothing was definitive, but we both knew it was over, at least I did.

She accompanied me to the railway station.

She embraced me.

She cried.

I didn’t cry, I put my arms around her and told her to take care of herself. We kissed, I got on board and as the train eased out of the station I watched Tonje walking down the platform and into the town alone.

I was on the night train to Oslo, everything I did on the journey was to avoid thinking. I read one newspaper after another, afterwards I read a novel by Ian Rankin, the first crime novel I had read for twenty years, until I was so tired I would fall asleep the instant I closed my eyes. In Oslo I bought another Rankin novel, changed trains, destination Stockholm this time, boarded and started to read.

That was how I left Bergen.