Sacrifice (7 page)

Maj-Britt slowly lowered the letter and felt for the first time in more than thirty years a need to pray to God. What Vanja had written was disgusting. May the Lord forgive her for the words she had just been tricked into reading.

T
he individual presentations had continued, taking up most of Thursday afternoon. Mattias had set the bar, and the rest of the participants had risen to the challenge. None of them wanted to be relegated to mediocrity by telling a boring story; they hadn't ended up in positions of authority for nothing. One fascinating account after another passed for review. Monika could only listen half-heartedly. It wasn't until she finally concluded her account and everyone's attention shifted to the person who was next that she realised fully how much energy it had taken. Any energy she had left was devoted to keeping herself upright in her chair. So much time had passed since she had confronted that memory; on the occasions when she had been forced to do so, she had merely passed over it quickly and left all the details in merciful shadow.

Unfamiliar voices followed, one after the other, separated only by the sound of applause. She participated in that as well, clapping her hands when necessary to avoid drawing attention to herself. And the whole time she was aware that he was sitting there. Right next to her sat someone who had the personality she so evidently lacked.

Someone who always made the right choice. Someone who had that trait so deeply engrained in
his character that doubt never arose, not even in the presence of death when terror blinded reason.

She had turned her head to look at him once, wanting to know whether it was also visible in his face. Wanting to see how a person looked who was everything she had always dreamed of being, the person she could never be because what she had failed to do could never be made right. Her brother was dead forever, and she would always be the one who hadn't turned off the sauna and hadn't taken those two extra steps.

That night had revealed the deficiency in her character, and since then not a day had passed that she didn't feel it grating inside her. Her choice of profession, all her prestigious belongings, her way of driving herself relentlessly to obtain better results; all were a way of trying to compensate for the defect she carried inside her. To justify the fact that she was alive while he was dead. Through her struggle she had achieved much, but there was one fact she could never change: knowing that in the depths of her soul she was an egotistical and cowardly person. It was something you either were or you weren't. And after it was proven that that's what she was, she didn't deserve love either.

Even though she was still alive.

After the meeting she went to her room. The others had moved on to the bar, but she couldn't face it. Couldn't face the socialising and the small talk and pretending that everything was fine. She sat on her bed and weighed her mobile phone, still switched off, in her hand. She wanted so badly to hear his voice, but he would be able to tell that something was wrong
and she wouldn't be able to explain. And the experience this afternoon had once again triggered all her doubts. He didn't know who she really was.

She was utterly alone; not even Thomas could share her shame.

The guilt. She had never allowed herself to mourn. Not deeply. Because how could she permit herself to do that? She had missed Lasse so terribly after she was left all alone with their mother. Missed him in a way she hadn't thought possible. He had always been there, and she had taken for granted that he would always continue to be there. There was nobody who could take his place. But her grief was so abject that it would desecrate his memory. She didn't have the right. Instead she did everything in her power to make her mother's loss more tolerable, tried to be happy and helpful, cheer her up as best she could. She envied her mother's right to indulge and wallow in sorrow without any obligations towards those who were still alive. Her sorrow was noble, genuine, not like Monika's, which served equally to hide the truth that was impossible to bear.

The betrayal. Horrified, she had realised that life outside their home would go on as if nothing had happened. Nothing was turned upside down or changed after the unthinkable happened. The same people were on the bus in the morning, the same programmes were on TV, and the neighbour was still adding an extension to his house. Everything continued without the rest of the world caring that he was gone, or even noticing. And her own life went on as well. The memory of him would one day lose its solid contours and fade; the emptiness would
remain but the world would be changed so that the empty space he left would be less noticeable. The path he would have taken would grow narrower and narrower and finally vanish in obscurity, transformed into wondering about who he might have become and how his life might have turned out. And she could do nothing to prevent what had happened.

Nothing.

Success, admiration, status. Every day of her life she had been ready to trade all she had ever achieved for the opportunity to do it over.

Because what death demanded was unreasonable. What it demanded was that she should fully understand. And accept the inevitable truth. Never again.

Never again.

Never again, ever.

She ate in her room. Just before dinner she had called Åse and complained of a headache. Fifteen minutes later there was a knock at her door and there stood Åse with a tray full of food.

‘I told the guru that you were eating in your room. Hope you feel better soon.'

She fell asleep the minute she lay down, and slept for almost nine hours. She slipped off into sleep to escape her guilty conscience at not ringing Thomas as she had promised.
Don't ever leave me alone with a
silent phone again. I don't know if I could stand it
.

When she woke up she keyed in his number even though it was really too early.

‘Hello?'

She could hear that he had just woken up.

‘It's me … I'm sorry for not calling you yesterday.'

He didn't answer, and his silence scared her. She tried to think up an excuse but had none that was acceptable. And she didn't want to lie. Not to him. He had every reason in the world to say nothing. She knew far too well how she would feel if he was the one who went away on a course and didn't call.

I ask only one thing, and that's for you to be honest,
that you tell me the truth so I'll understand what's
happening
.

She closed her eyes.

‘Forgive me, Thomas. I had a tough day yesterday and afterwards I locked myself in my room; I couldn't even go to dinner.'

‘Good grief. That sounds like a fun course. What was so tough about it?'

There was a hint of something in his voice, and she knew at once that what she had said was just making the whole thing worse. She had failed him by not calling and sharing her day with him, preferring to handle it on her own.

As usual.

She was going to wreck this too. Her cowardice would once again claim its due and rob her of what she wanted most of all. The only thing he required was honesty, and that was the one thing she was incapable of giving. Her secret would fester like a sore, keeping them apart. It was actually within reach, the dream that she had given up all hope of realising. No success in the world could measure up to the strength his love could give her. And yet it wasn't enough. She couldn't help the fact that she was not a heroic person, but at least she could muster the courage required to explain things to him.

As long as we're honest then neither of us has to
be afraid. Don't you think?

How she had always wished for this, to stop being afraid.

She knew that she had to tell him, and what in the name of honesty did she have to lose? She would lose him in the end if she kept silent.

She had to take the risk.

But not now, not here on the phone. She wanted to be able to see his face.

‘I'll tell you when I come home. And Thomas …'

In any case she had to confess to the one other thing that was so hard to say.

‘… I love you.'

Friday and Saturday passed. Her decision to tell him was still firm and there was a sense of peace in having made up her mind. The intense pace of the course also helped to distract her. On Saturday evening, after too many lectures about visions and goals, effective delegation, and how to motivate your staff and create a positive work atmosphere, she sat down at one of the beautifully set tables in the dining room. Until then she had sat with Åse at every meal, and they had developed a real friendship. To say that Åse was a fresh breeze was an understatement; she was more like a hurricane that passed by each time you were near her. Monika liked her a lot, and she had already thought about inviting her and Börje to dinner sometime. She and Thomas. A couples' dinner.

If he stayed.

‘Is this seat free?'

She turned round and there stood Mattias. Until
now they had only exchanged a few words; without thinking why she had chosen not to sit at his table at the previous meals.

‘Of course.'

But she really wasn't happy about it.

‘Your name is Monika, isn't it?'

She nodded and he pulled out the chair and sat down. On her right, where he had sat before.

On each plate was an intricately folded linen napkin, and Mattias studied the artistry for a moment before he demolished it and put it on his lap.

‘That was a very strong presentation you gave. I haven't had a chance to tell you until now.'

Straight to the point. She had seen it before. People who had lived through great crises and been strengthened by their experience did not stoop to traditional polite nonsense. Wham!, right to the heart of the matter. Whether the people around them were ready or not.

‘Thanks, yours was too.'

Åse came to her rescue. With her usual commotion she sat down in the chair across from Monika and immediately unfolded her napkin without so much as glancing at the artistic folds.

‘God, I'm starving!'

With a scowl she read the little menu that decorated each bread plate.

‘
Lax carpaccio
? You can starve to death eating that.'

Mattias laughed. Monika was uncomfortably aware of his presence. His entire existence was one big reminder.

Several other people sat down at their table, and soon all eight seats were taken. The mood became intimate. Forcing them all to reveal something about themselves during the introductions had been a
brilliant move on the part of the course leader. After that, no concerns had seemed too private to share with one another. Monika already knew more about some of the participants than she knew about her co-workers. But they didn't know as much about her. And she wondered whether more people besides herself had altered the truth a bit when they had had the chance.

‘How is your wife doing now, by the way?'

Åse was the one asking, and she directed her question to Mattias. She had long since wolfed down her
lax carpaccio
and was now spreading butter on a piece of crispbread while she waited for the entrée.

‘Oh, she's doing quite well, actually. She'll never be completely the same, but enough so that everything functions. And she doesn't have pain anymore. If you met her and didn't know otherwise, you wouldn't be able to tell. It's more things like getting sore if she sits too long and stuff like that.'

‘And your daughter, how old is she?'

Mattias lit up when she was mentioned.

‘Daniella will be one in three weeks. It's strange, becoming a father. Being away from home for a few days has become really tough all of a sudden. A lot of things happen while you're gone.'

There was nodding and agreement all round the table, because everyone seemed to have small children who changed quite a bit in just a few days. Only Åse felt otherwise.

‘I thought it was really great to get away from home for a while now and then when my kids were little. Just to be allowed to sleep through a whole night! But now that they're grown, I miss the sound of those little feet in the night.'

Åse had told Monika about her kids. A grown son and daughter who were the pride of her existence. The son had been born with no arms, and she had described her conflicting feelings after the delivery, and then her joy at the wonderful ability of children to adapt to any situation. Now that son had given her two grandchildren.

Monika took a gulp of wine and leaned back. She was missing Thomas. She shut off the noise around her and savoured the feeling. It was great to have a reason to feel this kind of longing. Her whole life she had hoped that someday she would have a chance to yearn like this. And now she finally did.

She suddenly realised that Mattias was talking to her.

‘Excuse me, what did you say? I was somewhere else there.'

He smiled.

‘I could see that. But it looked like it was a nice place, so don't let me disturb you.'

As if he hadn't disturbed her enough already. She felt instinctively that she didn't want to talk to him, but on the other hand she didn't want to seem uninteresting. If she were forced into a conversation now, it would have to be about something neutral.

‘What kind of work do you do?'

There was almost a cloud of dust around that question, it was so boring, but Mattias wasn't about to be scared off.

‘I've just started a new job as head of personnel for a large sporting goods store, not one of those big chains but an independent one. I've never been a boss before, so that's why they sent me to this course.'

He grinned.

‘Not that I think it was actually necessary, since we only have six employees, but the owner of the store is a friend of mine, and he knows how bad our finances have been since Pernilla's accident. You know, the part I mentioned about not having any health insurance.'

She wanted to say something appropriate about how happy she was for his sake, but she wasn't going to lie anymore. Instead she said something about insurance companies in general, and he picked up on it right away and they were off on an interesting diversion. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she had to admit that he was a very entertaining table companion, and for the next hour she had a great time, and she even laughed a few times. And how he talked about his wife! So full of love and loyalty – not ten minutes would pass during the conversation before he would mention her again. Quite naturally, she supposed, since she was part of his life. Monika wondered whether Thomas would ever talk about her in this way – whether she would ever be such a central part of his life, so natural and self-evident. Mattias told her about the difficult years after the accident, how it had brought them even closer together. With a laugh he told about how they tried to fill the emptiness left by their great passion for diving. How they tried one hobby after another, but since they couldn't afford to spend any money the choice was rather limited. He laughed the most when he described their brave attempts to take up birdwatching. How, after a day in a bush with only a magpie and two wagtails on their list, they were forced to admit that telling the anecdote would probably be more fun than ever doing it again. Later, in library books, Pernilla began reading
about the history of Sweden, and after a while her interest in the topic became so intense that he began to think it was becoming obsessive. With a smile he confessed that she had also become a little too interested in Gustav II Adolf and the rest of those historical characters, but that it was probably all right because at least it didn't strain her back. And he told her how happy he was about his new job, which would finally make manageable the debts incurred during Pernilla's rehabilitation, not to mention the ongoing expense for all the chiropractors and masseuses that were necessary to alleviate her pain.