Karl Knausgaard - Some Rain Must Fall

‘Well, think I’d better get going,’ Hans said. ‘See you later.’

He disappeared up the hill to the left and we continued on our way to Garage. Hans lived on the other side of the Dragefjellet district, in a flat he shared with Tone, his girlfriend. Before that he had lived in a little collective in Sandviken with Ingar and Kjetil, two of his best friends, both active in Student Radio and Studvest, as he was. I had been there once, to a party with Yngve, that was the night he got together with Gunnhild, with whom he had moved into a flat in Marken only a few weeks ago. She was good-looking in a gentle retiring way, studied biology, came from a farm in Hardanger and was everything Yngve, or for that matter any other young man, could dream about. I was there that night, the place had been packed, and then I was there a few days later, alone, I had been walking around the town not knowing what to do, and I had thought, I’ll go and visit Hans. I didn’t know him, but we played in a band together, so it wouldn’t seem that strange. Uphill from Bryggen, along the main Sandviken road, down the narrow passages to the crooked old house where they rented the first floor. I rang the bell, no one answered. I rang again, but they obviously weren’t at home, so I turned and was about to go back up. At the end of the alley I saw Ingar. He had seen me because our eyes met, but he pretended he hadn’t and carried on.

Why did he carry on?

Wasn’t he going home?

He was probably going shopping, I thought, walking up the hill. At the same time I had a nagging suspicion it was me he was avoiding, me he didn’t want to meet, perhaps feel obliged to invite in. So instead of walking down to the town centre I went up the next street and waited for him.

He appeared only a few seconds later, scanned both sides of the street before walking the last bit to the entrance of the house, took out his keys and, after glancing up the hill, unlocked the door.

My heart was heavy as I left, it was me he had been avoiding, there was no doubt about it, but why, what was it about me?

Oh, I knew of course, I felt it all the time, there was something about me people didn’t want to know, something they tried to avoid if they could. Something I had, something about the way I behaved.

But what was it?

I didn’t know.

I didn’t say a lot, of course, I could safely assume that this was noticed and commented on unfavourably. Perhaps also that what I did say tended to be about inappropriate topics. What I said was often heartfelt, at least as soon as I was alone with someone, and people shied away from that like the plague. The alternative was to say nothing at all. These were my only modi vivendi, it was my entire register.

Well, not with Gunvor. She knew who I was.

The rain increased as Yngve and I hurried down Nygårdsgaten.

‘I’ll just have to ring Gunvor,’ I said. ‘She might be waiting for me at hers.’

‘That’s OK,’ Yngve said. ‘I’d better tell Gunnhild.’

‘Is there a phone box anywhere near here?’

‘There’s definitely one in Festplassen. On the corner, down from Garage.’

‘Shall we go there first then?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about swapping?’ Yngve said when we stopped by the phone box rummaging through our pockets for coins. ‘You ring Gunnhild and I’ll ring Gunvor? See if they notice the difference?’

We were alike, Yngve and I, but only at first glance, we shared a kind of general resemblance which meant that I could be mistaken for Yngve by people who didn’t know him that well. But our voices were almost identical. Often when I had rung up Yngve’s old collective they had thought it was Yngve taking the piss.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Shall I ring Gunnhild first?’

‘Yes, tell her I’m going to Garage with you and I don’t know when I’ll be back.’

I lifted the receiver and dialled the number.

‘Hello?’ Gunnhild said at the other end.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ I said.

‘Hi!’ she said.

‘Gunnhild, I’m going to Garage for a bit with Karl Ove,’ I said. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be home. But don’t wait up anyway!’

‘I might still do,’ she said. ‘But have a good time! And say hello to Karl Ove.’

‘Will do,’ I said. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’

Yngve laughed.

‘You’ve only been together a few months,’ I said. ‘Gunvor and I have been together for more than a year. She’ll notice.’

‘Want a bet?’

‘No, I daren’t.’

Yngve picked up the receiver, inserted the money and dialled the number.

‘Hi, Karl Ove here,’ he said.

Silence.

‘I’m going out with Yngve and Hans. But I’ll come back to yours afterwards, is that all right? I don’t know how long we’ll be, but … Yes … Yes … I love you too. Bye!’

He rang off and turned to me with a smile.

‘Did you say you loved her?’ I said.

‘Yes? She said she loved me!’

‘Shit. You shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

He laughed. ‘We don’t have to say anything. Then she’ll never know.’

‘But I know.’

He snorted.

‘You’re so sensitive,’ he said. ‘It was just a joke!’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said, and set off towards Garage.

Six hours later I was at a party in Fosswinckels gate, thinking how talented I was, writing actually wasn’t a problem, I was full of energy, I really did own the world. That wasn’t how things were, as I would have been the first to admit, but really they were. A couple of girls had given me the once-over in the basement of Garage, they had been long hungry looks, but of course I did nothing, I had a girlfriend, didn’t I, Gunvor, asleep at home waiting for me. But this felt like a missed opportunity, a regret, and while Bendik, who owned the flat, put on the Happy Mondays and people around me were shouting and laughing excitedly, I sat staring at the ceiling thinking, it was fine, all I had to do was finish the relationship, then I would be free, and there would be nothing to stop me doing anything I wanted.

It was getting on for half past four, people were starting to leave, again there was only the hard core left, Bendik, Arvid, Erling, Atle, and when all hope of any more fun had gone I drained my glass, got up and went downstairs without saying goodbye, made a beeline for the backyard next door, where I went round pulling at the bikes, but they were all locked, I would have to walk, unless there was one left unlocked in the adjacent yard.

No, there wasn’t.

The rain was teeming down as I trudged down the hills. In front of Garage, which now lay dark and empty, with raindrops running slowly and ornately down the windows and one taxi after another racing out of the tunnel beneath Høyden, I stood wondering what to do. I didn’t want to go home, no question about that. I trotted towards Slakteriet, but that was closed too. I lit a cigarette, cupped my hand over it against the rain, walked up the gentle incline ending at the theatre. What I wanted was to sleep with someone, a girl I hadn’t slept with before, one of the two who had been looking at me. Why hadn’t I grasped the opportunity, how could I have been so incredibly stupid? Gunvor would never find out, and I wasn’t doing it to spite her, I just wanted it so much I hadn’t thought about anything else all evening. A woman’s soft body, downcast eyes, new breasts, a new backside, she bends forward for me, on all fours for me, doggy position, and I, and I, well, I ram it in. That was basically all I wanted, but it was hopeless here, in a town where the rain fell remorselessly, deserted apart from the occasional darkened taxi, at half past four in the morning, how could it happen?

There was someone in Nøstet, she might have been in love with me once, she would probably receive me with open arms.