Tore Renberg - See You Tomorrow

Daniel clears his throat, ‘Sorry, Sandra,’ he says in a stilted voice, ‘you should never have met me.’

The bright boy isn’t able to look at her. He isn’t able to talk naturally. He closes his eyes when he speaks, hardly opens his mouth. He backs away from the bed.

The corners of Veronika’s mouth begin to turn up into a smile as she sees Daniel move away. He walks over to the wall by the door and hides his face in his hands.

The girl who’s ruined Sandra’s life comes closer to the bed again.

What is she doing?

Sandra sees her lift her hands, bring them towards her neck. Her fingers curl, as though she were feline, her nails are long and painted; what is she doing?

The cuts on Veronika’s face glisten, a triumphant smile appears and her eyes are aglow. Her fingers touch Sandra’s throat. The crucifix. She takes it between her fingers, inspects it. Sandra can feel the disgusting breath on her face, and she wants to spit on her, wants to open her mouth and bite off her head, but she can’t do anything. Veronika loosens the clasp of the necklace, takes the crucifix and leans forward so her mouth is up to Sandra’s ear. Veronika lifts away a lock of hair, disturbing her summer blonde fringe, and whispers: ‘Hi, Sandra. Are you in pain?’

Sandra pictures kneeing her in the cunt.

‘It’s Veronika,’ she says, her lips millimetres from Sandra’s ear. ‘You’re nothing now. Nothing. Your tits are too small, those Met jeans suck, your thighs are too fat and your mouth makes you look like a weasel.’

Sandra pictures tearing her apart with her bare hands.

‘You can’t move,’ Veronika whispers. ‘You’re nothing now.’

Sandra imagines carrying her dismembered limbs. She walks across a dry stony landscape and after a while she reaches a fire-scorched rock-face. She crouches down and lets the body parts roll from her arms, as if they were logs of firewood. Then she lights it, sees Veronika’s skin start to melt, watches the flesh begin to drip, smells the rising fetor of marred meat and makes out the bones beginning to appear.

Veronika straightens up. She breathes calmly. A summer of sorts has taken hold of her. A barrage of sunbeams shine through her very being.

Veronika turns to Daniel.

But he is not there. He is no longer by the door. He is out in the corridor. There is a doctor standing beside him. Not the same one as a little while ago. A different doctor. Now Veronika is nervous. Sandra tries to see what’s happening, but it’s beyond her field of vision. She can only hear voices and see Veronika’s form moving towards the door, nearer to the doctor and Daniel.

‘And who are you?’

‘I’m just a friend of hers.’

His voice.

‘A friend?’

‘Yes. I know her.’

That bright mouth of his.

‘Okay—’ the doctor looks slightly puzzled.

‘How is she?’

My Daniel.

‘Well, it’s too early to say,’ the doctor looks even more uncertain now, looks from Daniel to Veronika and says: ‘And who is she?’

Sandra sees Veronika draw closer to Daniel and the doctor.

‘No, she’s nobody,’ Daniel says.

‘Just a moment,’ the doctor says, ‘wait here for a second, I need to check something.’

Daniel turns his head to look at Sandra. So deep, those eyes of his, she feels she could fall into them.

He puts two fingers to his bright mouth, and leaves.

Love, Sandra thinks, as she notices her vision begin to fail, love bears all things, believes all things and hopes all things. And love, she thinks, and sees that she no longer sees, love endures all things. Sing songs of praise for my bright boy.

Veronika places the necklace around her neck. Fastens it. Lets it rest in the hollow of her throat.

She watches Daniel go down the corridor, walk away with a heavy footfall. She sees the lift doors open and him disappear inside. She moves to the window on the seventh floor and waits. A minute goes by, maybe two, and then she catches sight of him below. He emerges from the main entrance. He walks towards the Suzuki.

She knows how to do this.

Don’t look, don’t listen.

It’s been like this a thousand times before and it can be like this again.

My wolf man, you called me one unusual girl, but you didn’t exist and here’s the rule I made when I was small, when I lay under the duvet and thought about how I was always alone, how there would never be anyone for me:

Trees with bark on

bark with soil on

soil with leaves on

leaves with water on

water with boats in

boats with people in

people with clothes on

clothes with me in

me with bark on

me with soil on

me with leaves on

me with water on

water with people in

people with soil in

soil with leaves in

leaves with trees in.

‘There you are, girls. Could you give me a hand here? Yeah, I know. Some people were here, I just came home to put out the candle — silly Daddy, leaving it burning, eh — so I sent Mummy on ahead. Wasn’t that a nice surprise, Tiril, Mummy turning up, you weren’t expecting that, eh? You might have seen a van driving off, yeah, that was them, they just broke in, I think they must have been a motorbike gang or something, they were masked, they tied me up, beat me and took a load of our stuff, but never mind, fortunately we’re insured, and I’m here, Daddy’s here, it’s fine, it’s fine, I’ve only a broken nose, as well as some fingers and ribs, along with a few cuts and bruises, it’s fine, unbelievable what a body can take, don’t cry, Malene, hi Tiril, it’s fine, Daddy’s sorted everything out now, things will be good now, we’re a nice little family so we are, we’ll be all right, we’ll get a new dog, it’ll all be okay.’

He hears the front door open.

The sound of Malene’s steps. Then Tiril’s. And Christine’s stomping.

Like she lived here.

‘Dad?’

Pål sits with his back to the oven. Aching pain all through his body. He’s lost feeling in parts of his back and he’s not certain, but it’s like something in his mouth is smashed. His hands are still tied behind his back, but he lifts a finger, an unbroken one, as though they could see him.

‘In here!’

Sounds in the hall. Crunching, crackling.

‘Jesus, Dad! What happened here!’

‘Oh, it—’

‘Shit! There’s glass everywhere!’

‘Hi, Tiril, how did it go? I’m in here!’

The footsteps near the kitchen.

‘Dad?’

They’ve entered the room. The footsteps have stopped. Breathing. A gasp. Someone says, ‘Jesus.’

It’ll be good to see light again, good to get the blindfold off.

The worst is over now.

‘Hi, are you there?’

Pål hears Malene begin to sob, the same sound as the night she lay with her face buried in a pillow after injuring her ankle. He hears Tiril scream, Zitha, Zitha, Zitha, and he hears what he thinks are her knees hitting the floor with a thud as she sinks down in front of the dead dog. He hears Christine’s silence, which only occurs when something has gone completely awry.

Well, she might move back home now? Who knows, never say never.

He clears his throat. ‘There you are, girls,’ he says, feeling a stinging pain in his mouth as he speaks. ‘Could you give me a hand here? Yeah, I know, there were some people here, I was just coming home to put out the candle, silly Daddy, eh?’