Where are you? she texted Jack.
No answer.
Something must have happened. Had he had an accident? She called the babysitter and asked how Julienne was.
“She’s fine, we’re watching a film.”
“And Jack?” Faye tried to sound unconcerned. Blood was seeping out between her legs as she talked. Soaked up by the diaper. “Has he been in touch?”
“No. I thought he was with you?”
She tried calling Henrik. He didn’t answer either. Thoughts were bouncing about in her head. She imagined two stony-faced police officers knocking on the door and apologetically informing her that Jack was dead. What would she do then? A feeling of déjà vu. The same anxiety as when Julienne was born.
Julienne had been expected to arrive in early June. Jack had been very loving throughout the pregnancy, even if he didn’t always have enough time for all the checkups and practical matters involved in a pregnancy. Compare had reached a crucial stage of development and Faye understood that the company had to come first now that they were expecting a child and he was determined to build something up for his family.
Jack had been at the office when the first contractions came. At first Faye hadn’t realized that was what they were, she assumed they were more of the vague preliminary aches that had come and gone during the previous month or so. But then they became so strong that she had to hold onto the kitchen counter to stop herself from collapsing.
Bent almost double, she had called Jack. The phone rang and rang until eventually she got his voicemail. She sent a text telling him to come at once, guessing that he was in a meeting. When she called Danderyd Hospital they told her she had to come in, but she didn’t want to go without Jack. She had imagined him helping her into their car, then nervously swearing at the traffic as they rushed to the maternity unit. Toward their first encounter with their longed-for child.
The contractions got worse with each passing minute but her phone remained silent. Neither Jack nor Henrik were answering her calls or texts. In the end she called Chris and asked if she could go with her and stay until Jack arrived.
Quarter of an hour later Chris rushed into the apartment, out of breath, in high heels and wearing a leopard-print coat. She half-dragged, half-carried Faye down the stairs. When they were sitting in the taxi on the way to Danderyd, Faye realized that she had forgotten the carefully packed bag that had been standing ready for the past two months. She ordered the driver to turn back, but Chris snapped at him to ignore Faye and just drive as fast as he could. You can always buy replacements for whatever was in that bag, she said, pointing out that children were born all the time without great long lists of equipment.
Chris had taken over the job of chasing Jack, and she called and texted him frantically. As the taxi pulled up outside the hospital she put the phone back in her bag.
“He knows where we are,” she said. “He knows what’s happening. Now we need to focus on getting you into the maternity ward before you give birth here in this taxi, okay?”
Faye nodded numbly. Pain was washing over her like an immense wave, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond breathing.
She felt oddly detached as she got out of the car, clutching Chris’s arm tightly. In the distance she could hear Chris shouting and ordering the staff around as they entered a corridor. She’d probably have to apologize afterward, but right now Chris’s shrill falsetto was the only source of comfort she had.
Julienne arrived five hours later. Five hours of pain that left Faye alternately fearing and longing for death. Chris stayed by her side the whole time. Wiping the sweat from her brow, asking for pain relief, yelling at the midwife, massaging her back, helping her with the gown and keeping track of the contractions. And when Julienne appeared Chris cut the umbilical cord, carefully passed her to Faye, and made sure she was in the right position to suckle. It was the only time Faye had ever seen Chris cry.
Two hours later a shamefaced Jack arrived at the hospital. He was carrying the biggest bouquet of roses Faye had ever seen. One hundred perfect red roses, so many that the staff couldn’t find a vase large enough. He stared at his shoes, his bangs fell across his face, and Faye felt all her anger and disappointment drain away.
Jack mumbled something about meetings, his phone running out of battery, a whole series of unfortunate circumstances. He seemed crushed, and Faye couldn’t help thinking that he was the one who had lost out, when it came down to it. He had missed the birth of the most beautiful baby the world had ever seen.
Very carefully, she handed Julienne over. She was wrapped in a blanket, and was snuffling happily after her first meal outside the womb. Jack sobbed so hard that his shoulders shook, but Chris stood behind him with her arms folded. Faye quickly looked away from her friend and watched her husband instead as he held their newborn daughter in his arms. It was obvious he loved her. No one was perfect.
Faye took a deep breath and forced the memories away. She had made herself suppress the birth, but this situation was far too reminiscent of it. Even if no child was going to be born today. A life was going to be extinguished instead.
Her stomach tensed, then clenched. She bit her lip to stop herself crying. She had to stay strong, both for her own sake and for Julienne’s. Jack would be proud of her.
Her forehead felt feverish, sweat was sticking her clothes to her skin. Behind a screen she heard another woman sobbing.
“There, there, darling. It’s okay.”
Someone was comforting her, holding her.
Her stomach started to cramp. The seconds ticked by. She let out a gasp when it eased. She realized she had been tensing and holding her breath. She wanted to have someone there to comfort her as well. Couldn’t stand the loneliness any longer. She took her phone out and called Chris. Wept. Explained where she was. Didn’t care if anyone overheard. She let out a groan when another cramp came, and clutched the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.
Sweat was running down her back.
“I’m on my way,” Chris said. Like she always did.
“Really?” Faye sniffed.
“Of course I am, darling.”
Half an hour later the sound of Chris’s heels echoed along the corridor. She leaned over Faye. She stroked her hair with neatly manicured fingers. Wiped her brow with a napkin she took from her YSL sac de jour.
“I’m sorry,” Faye whispered. “Sorry for everything.”
“Don’t worry about that, darling. It is what it is. Now let’s just get through this and get out of here. Okay?”
Chris’s hoarse voice was simultaneously matter-of-fact and sympathetic, in a way that managed to calm Faye down. She had always been able to do that. Faye hadn’t realized how much she had missed that until now.
She met her gaze. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” Chris said. “I was with you when Julienne was born. Of course I’m going to be here now.”
Faye grimaced with pain and squeezed her hand. It was the most beautiful hand she had ever seen.
While a life was running out of her, she pressed her cheek against Chris’s hand.
STOCKHOLM, FEBRUARY 2003
WE WERE LIVING IN A three-room flat in Bergshamra. Jack’s uncle had wanted his apartment back when one of his children returned from abroad. It was on the red line of the metro, close to the city, but it was a different world. The neighbors were a mix of ordinary Swedes and migrant families. Chatty, friendly mothers. Children shouting and being noisy in the public spaces, but they were pleasant and well-behaved.
Jack and Henrik had both graduated from the Stockholm School of Economics, Henrik with top grades, Jack with average ones. But neither of them had tried to find work. They spent all their time trying to get Compare off the ground. The business idea was telemarketing, with a commission-based wage structure that was more aggressive than any similar company. Motiv
ation, motivation, motivation, as Jack used to chant. His favorite quote was “Hungry wolves make the best hunters,” and the business model I had developed for them suited hungry wolves. More than anything, it suited two men who were as eager for glory as Jack and Henrik.
Our living room was their office. They shared a large desk and worked side by side on a couple of chairs I had found down in the garbage room but told Jack I had inherited from my grandmother.
I admired their intensity, and was convinced they were going to succeed, confident that they were well on their way. As a result I was taken by surprise one afternoon when I got home to find Jack sitting on the sofa, staring into space.
“What’s the matter, darling?” I said, sitting down beside him.
“We’ve run out of money. Henrik’s used up all his savings and I’ve gone cap in hand to try to get more capital, to no avail. I haven’t managed to find any investors. We simply weren’t good enough.”
He ran his hands through his hair.
“Maybe it isn’t a complete disaster. We’ll both be able to find jobs. Henrik’s talking about moving to London and getting a job in the financial sector. Maybe it would be just as well if we gave up these childish dreams and grew up. I’ll tell him I want out tomorrow, that would be the best way forward. I could go to London as well, that’s where the real money is. Or New York. Wall Street. Maybe I should go to Wall Street.”
Jack’s speech was intended to convince himself, but I could tell he didn’t mean a word of it. He was nowhere close to giving up on his dreams. And the very thought that he might move and leave me on my own again was enough to make me panic.
I couldn’t begin to imagine a life without Jack. Anxiety started to well up inside me, but I swallowed the nausea and said as calmly as I could, with my hand on his, “Where’s all this coming from? I thought it was going well, you both sounded enthusiastic as recently as last night when we went to bed. I heard you talking on the phone.”
“We were convinced we’d found some investors, but today we were informed that they aren’t interested after all. So we’ve got no money, darling. Right now we’re surviving on your student grant and that job in the café. I haven’t even been able to pay my mobile bill this month.”
The hopes of generations lay heavy on his shoulders, and the disappointment was etched in his face. He was the one who was going to put right everything his father had done, and restore the family’s honor. But now he was ready to give up his crusade.
I cupped his face with my hands.
“No. I’m not going to let you give up your dream.”
“Aren’t you listening? We need money. Some sort of income. And you’re still at college . . .”
He turned to look at me. His eyes were as deep and wet as a puppy’s. Jack needed me, in a way that no one ever had before.
“I can take a year’s sabbatical.”
“But you love college . . .”
Those blue eyes looked into mine, and I could already see the spark glinting in them, and that he was only raising objections for the sake of it.
“I love you more. And I know that you’re going to succeed, as long as you get the chance to do your thing. We’re a team, you and I. Jack and Faye. We’re going to take over the world, that’s what we’ve always said. I can graduate a year later, and what difference does one year make in the broader scheme of things?”
I shrugged.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Jack said, pulling me toward him.
“Of course I am,” I said with a laugh.
Happiness was bubbling inside me like a fizzy drink. I was giving him a gift, and he was accepting it, because he loved me.
“I know you’d have done the same for me. And I believe in Compare, I know we’re going to be millionaires. And then you can pay me back!”
“And I will! Everything that’s mine is yours, darling. Ours!”
He kissed me, then picked me up and carried me into the bedroom.
One year wasn’t so bad. And it meant everything for Compare. Not so much for my education. I found studying so easy, whereas Henrik had to work hard for his grades. Sure, I hated wiping tables, serving coffee, getting my backside pinched by old men who thought the waitress was included in the price of a coffee and pastry. But Jack was the love of my life. My soul mate. We held each other up. Next time it would be Jack volunteering to help me.
I informed the School of Economics of my decision that evening, and called my boss at the Café Madeleine. He was delighted. I knew he had plans to expand, but found it hard to get away from the day-to-day running of the café. There and then he offered me the position of personnel manager. The monthly salary felt dizzyingly large. Twenty-two thousand kronor. I said yes.
The only person who objected to my decision was Chris. She came into Madeleine’s at closing time with a black look in her eyes.
“You and I need to talk,” she said.
She dragged me across a rainy Stureplan and into a bar. She snapped at the bartender that she wanted two beers, then pushed me into one of the booths.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and it might well make you angry with me. Maybe this is the end of our friendship. But someone’s got to say it! You’re making a mistake.”
I sighed. How would Chris be able to understand? What she and Henrik had was nowhere close to what Jack and I had.
“I know you only want what’s best for me. But this is something that has to be done. Jack needs to concentrate on Compare if their dream is going to become a reality.”
“What about your dream, then? Bloody hell, Faye, if Jack and Henrik had half your brains they’d be billionaires by now.”
“I’m happy as long as I’ve got Jack. And his dreams are my dreams.”
“Are you worried he’ll leave you if you don’t do this?”
“No.”
I almost started to laugh. The thought was so absurd. Obviously, his talk about London and New York had worried me a bit, but that was all it was: talk. Jack wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him.
Chris gestured irritably to the bartender to bring us another glass each.
“In that case,” she muttered, “why can’t he put Compare on ice for a year while he works instead? Why are you the one who has to give up college for his sake?”
Chris lit a cigarette with trembling hands.
“It’s so fucking typical,” she muttered.
I reached for Chris’s packet of cigarettes. Jack didn’t like me smoking, but I seized the opportunity to have one now. I’d just have to remember to buy some mint chewing gum before I went home.
“One year, Chris. Then I’ll be back. By then Jack and Henrik will have Compare up and running.”
I blew a perfect smoke ring, which framed Chris’s skeptical expression. She dropped the subject, but the look on her face made it abundantly clear what she thought about it.
—
Six months later Compare was launched, and became an instant success. Jack and Henrik’s young telemarketing team and new way of working hit Sweden like an invading army. They achieved results unmatched by anyone before them. Companies were soon lining up to have Compare take over their own telemarketing operations. Money rained down on us. Just over a year later we were millionaires.
Neither Jack nor I saw any good reason for me to return to my studies. We had already reached our goal. Together. Why should I fight my way through college exams when things were going so well for us?
You studied in order to become successful, and we had done that. The future was so bright, I needed shades.
The crisis was edging closer and closer. Obviously she should have seen the signs. Opened her eyes. They say nothing blinds us like love, but Faye knew that nothing blinds as much as the dream of love.
Hope is a powerful drug.
She decided to ch
ange tactics. Instead of sitting at home like a sad puppy, waiting for Jack, she would give him the time and space to miss her.
There were two weeks to go until his birthday party. The event organizers had told her when to show up, but that was all. Apart from the instruction that the dress code was “evening dress.” She had been contemplating rather more entertaining themes when she was still under the impression that she was going to be organizing her husband’s birthday party. The Great Gatsby or Studio 54. But evidently that wasn’t what Jack wanted. Sometimes she couldn’t help wondering if she had merely imagined that she knew him. She seemed to have the wrong idea about everything these days. At least when it came to Jack, anyway.
Faye knocked on the door of his study in the tower, heard an irritable yes, and walked in.
She put on a smile. Not that it mattered. Jack was staring at the screen.
“Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt. I just thought I’d let you know that I’m going away with Julienne for a few days.”
He looked up in surprise. His handsome profile stood out against the glass of the window.
“Oh?”
“Yes, you’ve got so much going on at the moment. And I . . . well, I suppose I don’t. I’ve rented a house in Falsterbo.”
She was prepared for Jack to protest, he had never been very enthusiastic about her wanting to do things on her own. But to her surprise he seemed almost relieved.
“That’s a great idea. It’ll do you good to get away for a while, after, well, all that unpleasantness.”
He was avoiding her gaze. When he got home late the night after she had the abortion he had offered a cursory apology about an emergency at work. No more than that. No roses this time. No tears. And she had swallowed once again, accepting what she couldn’t change, even if it left a bitter aftertaste. But she could still feel the coolness of Chris’s hand against her cheek when she went to bed.
“Do you think so?”
She kept her voice neutral. Keep looking forward. Never back. She could turn this around. She was stronger than Jack realized. She had been playing the weaker sex for a long time now. Because that had been what Jack needed. But now she realized it was time for her to take charge, without Jack noticing. He wasn’t the sort of man who liked taking direction.
The Gilden Cage Page 13
