Minus Me (24 page)

Chapter 49

Linda is woken by the daylight in her room. The fire has gone out in the hearth, but it’s still nice and warm. Sleepily, she stretches out under the duvet. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Linda sits up. Zak? Should she open it? Before she has time to decide, she hears the lock being turned from outside. Is he picking the lock? Linda is on her feet in a flash. She dashes out into the hallway, and nearly collides with her mother.

‘Mum?’

‘So this is where you are!’ says her mother, her voice slipping uncontrollably into a falsetto.

Her father appears immediately behind. He hangs up his keys on the hook where Linda’s are already hanging.

‘What have you done to yourself?’ asks her mother, touching Linda’s new blue hairdo.

‘I got it cut,’ answers Linda, taking her mother’s hand to stop her. Right now, she’s very glad Zak fixed her nose so well. Even if it was kind of brutal the way he did it.

Linda and her mother stand looking at each other. Linda is still holding her mother’s hand. Her mother shifts her grip, and laces her fingers between Linda’s.

‘I know, Mum,’ says Linda, answering the words that she knows are on her mother’s lips: we’ve been so worried.

‘We’ve been driving all night,’ whispers her mother.

Linda releases her hand from her mother’s grip, and goes back into the living room. Her parents follow her.

‘Have you been sleeping here in front of the fireplace?’

‘Yes, as you can see,’ says Linda, giving a shrug and bending down to pick up the duvet from the floor. She folds it neatly and hangs it on the back of the sofa.

‘And you made a fire. That’s my girl,’ says her father.

Linda goes over to the kitchenette. She takes the tin of coffee out of the cupboard, puts the filter in the coffee machine and measures out the water.

Her mother immediately goes to help.

‘Ellen . . .’ says Linda’s dad, holding her mum back.

‘I’ve got some cake,’ says Linda, unwrapping the rest of the lemon sponge that Olga had insisted she take. Linda’s parents sit at the kitchen table as though they were guests.

‘I’m sorry I went off like that, but I can explain,’ says Linda, wanting to get in there before her parents.

‘I see,’ says her mum, fiddling with the mug she’s been given. ‘Do you think I could have green tea instead of coffee?’

‘Sure,’ says Linda. She takes down the tin of tea, fills a saucepan with water and puts it on the hob.

‘As you’ve probably guessed, you’re going to be a big sister,’ says Linda’s father suddenly.

Linda turns towards her parents.

‘Why couldn’t you admit that before?’

‘We’ve been unlucky twice before, so we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure.’

‘And now you’re sure?’

She turns away, pretending to be busy with the coffee.

‘Well, it’s been over three months now. And we’ve even been to an early ultrasound, and had extra tests. Everything seems to be normal and fine. And, not that it matters, but it’s a boy. A little brother,’ says her mother.

‘That’s brilliant,’ says Linda, smiling.

The news is better than good, since they’ve had everything checked. This time there really is going to be a baby.

‘Aren’t you pleased? Would you have preferred a little sister?’ asks her father.

‘No, no. A brother is perfect.’

The coffee is ready, and Linda pours some out for her father.

‘Thanks,’ he says taking a gulp. ‘That’s lovely!’

‘You’ve grown up so much!’ says her mother.

‘Thanks. I think I have too,’ says Linda, unable to hide a smile.

She hears the water boiling in the pan, and takes it off the heat.

‘But you do know how frightened we’ve been?’ says her mother, pushing her mug over to Linda. Linda pours the water on a tea bag, wondering what to say. It suddenly feels unnecessary for her to have run off. It’s so good that they’re here, and that they’ve driven through the night to find her. All their worrying, right down to the little things, like whether she’s dried her hair before going out in the cold; it all points to the fact they love her. Linda knows that. And when she looks into her parents’ faces, she feels it even more. She means the world to them. Even with a little brother on the way, she is irreplaceable. They’ve come all the way here to tell her that.

‘Yes, I do know,’ answers Linda. ‘But I had to go. There’s something I’ve got to put right.’

‘What?’ asks her mother, leaning across the table. ‘Is there something we can help you with?’

‘No. I’ve got to sort this out on my own.’

‘But maybe you can tell us what it is? Maybe we can help you with some advice,’ suggests her father. ‘We were young once, you know,’ he says with a smile.

‘It’s Axel. We fell out this the summer. It was just a stupid misunderstanding. But it was mainly my fault. So I’m the one who needs to apologize,’ explains Linda.

‘And you couldn’t just ring him?’ asks her mother, with a little tinge of sarcasm.

‘I need to do this,’ says Linda. ‘Afterwards I’ll come home. I promise.’

Her mother shakes her head despairingly, but eventually nods. Her father asks if she can’t turn her mobile on at least, and carry it with her. When she tells them she’s been stupid and thrown her phone away, her mother simply pushes her own across the table. Linda picks it up, weighs it in her hand, wondering if she should say more.

‘I love you both, and the baby too, even if I haven’t actually met him,’ she says.

‘And we love you too, our little treasure,’ says her mother. ‘But go on now. Do what you have to do.’

‘Thank you,’ says Linda, putting the phone in her pocket.

It’s a cold and clear morning outside. Linda takes the bicycle out of the shed. She feels strong as she peddles up the hill to the main road. It is still very early and she cycles slowly. She focuses on her breathing the way Zak taught her on the train. She lets her mind move gently with her breath. As she breathes in she pushes her left foot down on the peddle. And as she breathes out, she pushes down with the right. And so she rides along, not rushing the day. She’ll get there when she gets there.

Chapter 50

Linda leans her bike against the fence, releases her rucksack from the rack, and takes a slip of paper from the side pocket. She has a faint feeling that she has been followed. She turns quickly and looks down the road. Surely it’s not her parents again? She has to smile when she sees who her pursuer is. It’s just the cat. The one that stayed with her all night. She stuffs the slip of paper in her pocket, and bends down to stroke it.

‘How did you get here? I thought you’d left me when you weren’t there this morning. Ah, you’re such a beautiful pussycat.’

The cat purrs in reply and rubs itself against her legs. Linda crouches down, but then it suddenly reaches out its paw and scratches the back of her hand.

‘You’re quite right,’ says Linda. ‘I can’t put it off any longer.’

She gets up and looks towards the house. She glances back down at the cat. It grimaces as though it’s hissing, but no noise comes out. Linda takes the slip of paper out of her trouser pocket. Her lips move as she reads what’s written on it. Then she walks up to the house. She tries to think about her breathing: breathe in deep and take a step; breathe out slowly and take a step. But it’s completely useless. Her breathing is shallow, her heart is thumping, and her hands are so sweaty she’s worried the ink on the paper will smudge. Crazy Zak and his stupid breathing exercises, she thinks.

Reaching the top of the front steps, Linda presses the doorbell. No hesitation now! Her ears are pounding. The slip of paper is soggy with sweat. Axel has got to be the one who comes to the door. And he has to come soon. She hears footsteps in the house. Somebody is walking about in their socks. It must be Axel, since his parents always wear slippers with clunky soles. Those super-healthy clogs from Germany. The door opens. It’s Axel.

‘Linda?’ says Axel, with a questioning look.

He looks paler than he does in the summer, but he’s wearing the same Brazil football shirt. Yellow doesn’t suit him. It doesn’t go with his blond hair. Should she tell him? She wants to. She’d rather anything but what she’s written on the slip of paper. Still, she clears her throat and looks down at it, her hand shaking:

You were the one who taught me the bass,

So I stood on stage and I didn’t lose face.

Whenever I dream it’s your hands I see,

I need more than friendship, that’s now clear to me.

As Linda gets to the end a shadow comes up behind Axel. A little hand slips into his. A figure with blonde, almost-white hair that hangs loose, and which is quickly pushed to one side with the other hand. Mia.

‘Who is it?’ asks Mia.

Linda can see that Mia has grown since last summer, and looks even better than she does in her new profile picture. And now Mia rests her cheek against the yellow football shirt, which is also in that profile picture. The dental braces have gone, and so has the puppy fat. And Axel? Have his hands been under that pullover? Has he touched her there? And did he do it with the same sensitive touch as when he brushed Linda’s hair from her face last summer?

‘It’s Linda, as you can see,’ answers Axel, releasing his hand from Mia’s.

‘Linda? I didn’t recognize you with your new hair,’ says Mia with a giggle, revealing her beautifully straightened teeth.

Linda screws up her slip of paper and flings it away as she jumps down the steps. The gravel crunches under her feet as she runs towards the gate. She puts her hand on the top of the gate and swings herself over. Oh my God, how did I do that? she thinks, landing safely on the other side. Just, whoosh, over the gate, as if it was nothing. She throws herself onto her bicycle and peddles away from Axel’s house.

Chapter 51

Linda doesn’t stop until she’s down by the little shop on the harbour. She throws the bike down, kicks the wheel and flings herself onto a bench that’s warming in the sun. Axel and Mia! Of course! That’s why he hasn’t been on the internet lately, and why the texts have got shorter. Mia! Little Miss Rose-Pink! Little Miss Whatever-You-Say. Or Little Miss I-Don’t-Dare, whenever somebody’s got a fun idea. Linda imagines Axel asking to touch Mia’s boobs, and Mia saying: But of course you can, Axel. Blush blush blush.

‘Shit!’

Linda gets up from the bench and kicks the wheel of her bike again. What kind of an idiot is she? Travelling all the way from Trondheim just for this! Everything was meant to be perfect. Eternal, perfect love. She was going to faint – or even die – in his arms. Gazing out at the sea, with the cry of the gulls in the distance. Oh, so romantic! But oh, so ridiculously unrealistic! Why couldn’t she have left it as a dream? Why did she have to travel all this way?

It’s Zak’s fault. And since Zak isn’t here to get a well-deserved kick in the arse, her bike gets a third kick. The bike, which has always been her pride and joy, now has scratches in its metallic blue paint. She turns away from it, and it lies helplessly with its front wheel spinning.

‘You’re pathetic,’ snorts Linda, marching into the shop.

The bell over the door rings brightly, reminding her of the summer. The teenager behind the counter is reading a magazine and barely looks up when Linda comes in. Linda goes straight over to the fridge and takes a Fanta. It’s as though she’s on autopilot, the same drink she and Axel used to buy and share. Ha! Now she can have a whole bottle of Fanta to herself. She goes to pay. She’s got enough money for a little chocolate bar too.

‘Wait, don’t forget your change,’ says the girl behind the counter.

‘You can keep it, for luck or something,’ says Linda, going back out.

The cat is waiting for her outside. It’s rubbing its cheek against the abandoned bicycle, as though marking its territory. It’s purring and seems to be in a good mood again.

‘You’re following me about everywhere. What are you after, eh?’ asks Linda, crouching down.

The cat strolls over with its tail straight up and starts rubbing its cheek on her legs.

‘Oh, so you think I belong to you, do you?’ asks Linda. She laughs, but doesn’t stroke it. The scratch on her right hand reminds her that she’s dealing with a capricious little creature.

A Fanta is just what she needs now. She puts the top of the bottle on the edge of the bench and knocks off the cap. It clatters on the asphalt and rolls across the uneven surface. The cat leaps about, investigating this new plaything.

Linda is about to put the bottle to her lips when she sees two people peddling towards her on a bicycle. Axel, with Little Miss Rose-Pink on the crossbar, sitting snugly between his arms as he steers, hair fluttering like candyfloss from under the pink woolly hat that matches her pink pullover. She looks like one giant pink sweetie. Linda spits, then on complete impulse, grabs the cat and throws herself behind the corner of the shop. The cat meows loudly and sinks its teeth into her.

‘Ow!’ she says, dropping the cat, and putting the back of her hand into her mouth. It’s bleeding.