A House in Norway

by Vigdis Hjorth

  She printed it out, put it in an envelope, posted it through her tenant’s smart letter box, and texted to let her know that she had a letter. Alan’s car wasn’t there. She was secretly hoping that everything would be all right now.

  She heard nothing. She observed the Pole with her child in the afternoons, and would see Alan’s car from time to time, but there were no text messages and consequently no resolution meeting, and no rent reached her bank account on the twenty-fourth, the date in the month she usually got it. So the conflict was a reality, her worst fears had come true. They intended to stay, but not pay. She stood behind the curtains and watched the Pole park and the girl get out in her pink puffer jacket wearing a pink hat and white gloves and something that looked like small ankle boots similar to her mother’s, who acted as if everything was normal, she lifted out shopping bags and brushed snow off the car, went to the laundry basement in the evening and washed her clothes, so that Alma could smell cigarette smoke in the hallway, but she still didn’t pay. Alma wrote several text messages asking whether or not she intended to stay, but got no reply. In other words, they thought they could avoid paying, avoid answering her messages, avoid telling Alma about their plans. The end of the month was coming up, would they stay there in February without paying as well, in March, and in April? And Alan would park his car where she had specifically asked her tenant not to park, look down, look to the side and away before walking quickly up to the door, but apart from that he didn’t act as if he had anything to be ashamed of. They didn’t give a damn about Alma, they had no respect for Alma, they weren’t scared of Alma, and what was she going to do about it? She called the National Landlords Association, which didn’t appear to be unfamiliar with this problem, but they couldn’t offer her a solution, unfortunately, she sensed how they squirmed at having to admit that when faced with this basic problem, there was little or nothing they could do to help the landlord. All she could do was print out the form ‘Notice in accordance with the legal enforcement of the Debt Act. Section 4 to 18 re. non-payment (eviction)’ on their website, complete it and send it to the tenant, although it was pretty obvious that when matters had deteriorated to the extent they had, the tenant would ignore the letter. But then you’ve at least initiated the process, the lawyer said, and didn’t add that it would probably be protracted, stressful and expensive, but Alma could tell that it would from the tone of the lawyer’s voice, his choice of words, his sympathy.

  She printed out the form and filled it in. I request that the property is vacated within fourteen days from today’s date. The outstanding rent amounts to X. The notice to evict can, however, be voided if the rent plus interest is paid. She didn’t send it, she was still hoping things would work out because the Pole’s composure by the car, her unhurried walk with her daughter and her shopping bags to the door, and Alan’s apparent calm when he parked and walked the same way a few hours later in the evening, could be interpreted as evidence that they weren’t stressed, they didn’t see themselves as being at war or in a conflict, like Alma did, and which they surely must, if they intended to go on living there without paying rent. Alternatively their composure was an expression of the extent to which they didn’t give a damn about Alma, didn’t care about Alma and Alma’s messages, especially now when she was alone in the house, without her strong son and her son-in-law with the saw. Now they weren’t afraid to exploit and walk all over Alma, they enjoyed walking all over Alma, tormenting Alma. They knew how anxious and nervous Alma must be, given how little she knew about their thoughts or plans, they wound Alma up by deliberately presenting themselves as calm and collected, as masters of the situation, at ease and at home on what was Alma’s land, occupying it, the parasites.

  She sat bent over the Constitution picture and was about to add the critical knowledge that people lack, but progress was slow because she was upset about the Poles. When she heard their cars arrive, she trembled with rage, yet at the same time she was scared of meeting them, she avoided them because she didn’t know what kind of face to put on. Threatening and screaming at them was futile, the Poles would merely smile at her because she couldn’t throw them out and they knew it, they would appear to know the rules and that her only option was to send them a form, which they didn’t even have to acknowledge. She would have to wait two weeks after it had been received before she could contact the enforcement officer, who would then have to issue several warnings, so it would take a long time and many procedures before any real talk of eviction could begin. And right before that they would leave the country, but for several months before they did that, they could live in Alma’s house for free. She felt violated and abused, she put the finished, completed form in an envelope, went to the post office to send it by registered post, queued up and wrote a last desperate message to the Pole asking whether she was staying or moving out. To her surprise she had an instant response. ‘Today I will put in the letter box termination of contract and letter.’ And surely that could only mean that she was ending the contract and moving out, oh, if only! And Alma left the queue and drove home, looked in her letter box, found nothing, checked her letter box again in the dark before she went to bed, found nothing. Yet she slept better that night than previous nights now that she had hope. However, there was no letter the next day, either, or the day after that, had she misunderstood something? I haven’t found any letter from you in my letter box, she wrote, but had no reply, so she was back to square one; she should have sent the notice of eviction when she was queuing at the post office because the Poles were just playing games and they had a plan. She decided to send it first thing Monday morning because today was a Saturday and her boyfriend was visiting and they were sitting each with a glass in front of the fireplace, and Alma was going on about the Pole and the situation and wrote her an absolutely final, final text message before posting the notice. Are you staying or not? in capital letters and surprisingly, she had a reply immediately, it must be because they were out at a party and had been drinking because the cars weren’t on the drive and the lights weren’t on. ‘I made up my mind and am moving out. You letter in letter box. Regards Slawomira.’ Alma showed it to her boyfriend, and he breathed a sigh of relief and said well, that’s sorted then, he was fed up with hearing about the Pole. And Alma wanted to believe the happy message, but there had been so many false starts, so much toing and froing, and the promised letter had never appeared in the letter box. But seeing as the Pole would appear to be in a communicative mood, Alma asked what date she would be moving out, and again the answer came instantly, 15 February. Excellent, Alma wrote, and forgot about the outstanding January rent. Have a good evening. You too, the Pole wrote. That was how it should be. What did I tell you, her boyfriend said, everything will be all right.

  Two days later the letter appeared in her letter box, not handwritten like the last one, but typed, two pieces of paper and formal like Alma’s. On the first page, it said:

  Slawomira Trzebuchwskai

  Nordrevei 7

  1814 Halvøya

  Termination of apartment

  On 31.01.2013 to announce departure from apartment.

  Accelerated mood due to the situation. I attach a letter.

  It went like this:

  Alma. Than half a year I was attacked by your letter and text messages at night. From a holiday apartment scare me rather increase electricity meter. Contract electricity is included in the rent, as is hot water. Very often, your family came to you, so I don’t have hot water for several days (though pay money for it) Snow clearing your property belongs to your duty. For six years I do it same way as you. Such services must be paid after 1000 kroner per month. Because you would never pay. I don’t even get thank you. For 6 years when you leave I bring your post home for free. In my company for such services also I must pay. I did it out of politeness. 6 years fighting with mice. I gave you a final bill with poison mouse (149 kroner!) so far you did not give me money. Just now, after so many years,
called carpenters, who pulled down kitchen. Wandered into me like your daughter strange guests open door and look at us. Give me impression of teeth not wanting me to guests come. Since I began situation very tense and nervous, as you know. In such a situation, you can’t live under one roof. Of this situation worsens my health. I think you share equally for the situation. The doctor forbid me to be nervous, and this is why I have to change apartments. I am sad about this because I live next to you longer than 6 years.

  About payment. For January you don’t pay for the apartment. Want to leave the house as soon as possible, that is to say, to the middle of February. You had deposit 6 years ago 10,000 kroner. For apartment for a month you deduct money of 6,500 kroner. You owe me 3,500 kroner. I want you to give it back to me in the middle of February. If you don’t give me it apartment papers in February. I think this solution is the best for both of us. Normal life cannot be rebuilt in this situation. You can’t increase my rent every two years. I have a little child and responsible work, and I mustn’t be upset. Barely speak Norwegian, but I am the same man as you. I respect people and expect the same from others. And I am sorry that in this way I have to say goodbye.

  Best regards and good wishes.

  Slawomira Bogumila Trzebuchwskai.

  Alma threw it aside. So she wanted money. Not pay the January rent, live in the apartment for half of February without paying, and then for Alma to pay her, pay them? This was blackmail. Weren’t they going to leave until Alma paid them? She lunged at the keyboard and wrote like a fury, she was incandescent with rage, but realised after a while that she mustn’t vent her fury without a filter, so she called her boyfriend and explained, and he calmed her down and she understood that she had to be professional. The most important thing, her boyfriend said, is that you get rid of her. Had it been him, he said, he would have paid the measly 3,500 kroner, which Alma could easily afford, to make the problem go away, to get the Pole out of the house. But Alma couldn’t. She wouldn’t hear of it. She owed them nothing, on the contrary! Paying them would be giving in to their terrorist demands, surrendering, it would be cowardly and scaredy-cat to reward bad behaviour, it would be crawling, demeaning herself, it was beneath her. So she launched into a lengthy defence speech, and again her boyfriend was shocked at her vehemence, her outpouring of emotion, what was it about the Pole that provoked Alma so? Was it that they violated her boundaries, that they intruded, invaded her house, and thus her sense of self, because her sense of self was strongly linked to the house and was delicate and home-made like the house and vulnerable to wind and weather and snow and cold winds and was barely still standing, and Alma’s hard-earned structure was now about to crumble; what little order had reigned in her inner and outer world was about to collapse, because it was the Pole who lived next to Alma, rather than the other way round! But those are just words, her boyfriend said. No, Alma howled, and he took a deep breath and sat down on his sofa, she could hear, and confessed that he couldn’t help her with this. No, Alma said, and hung up, then called the friend who rented out her holiday cabin in the winter, and fortunately she agreed with Alma and understood Alma, what dreadful people, she said, they’re taking advantage of you.

  The next day, when she had calmed down a little and braced herself, she wrote that she accepted the notice to vacate, but not the financial demand because the 10,000 kroner deposit was never paid. She and Alan never did go to the bank to open a deposit account. And when Slawomira took over the tenancy, she had no money, so there had been no question of a deposit. Both the interpreter and the social worker could vouch for that. We worked together to solve your problem, Alma wrote, because it was the truth. But, she added to meet her boyfriend halfway, the Poles halfway, and in order not to escalate the conflict, it was OK that they paid no rent for the remaining time, for January and the first two weeks of February. In return she expected the apartment to be properly cleaned when they left, and that they took all their belongings with them, including those from the shed and the garden, and the woodshed. Best wishes, Alma.

  She saw no signs that they were moving out. They came and went at considerable leisure, as she could observe from the window. It was coming up for 15 February, no removal van, no boxes, the child and her mother into the car in the morning, out of the car in the afternoon in the winter darkness, fortunately it didn’t snow enough for her to have to clear it. Alan’s car was there even more often now, also in the morning, as if he had no regular work. She considered calling social services and shopping him. The sixteenth and the seventeenth passed without any sign of them moving out, no removal crates, boxes or packing, so on the eighteenth she called social services. The social worker didn’t answer her phone, and Alma left a long message saying Alan was back, and that the couple weren’t paying rent, that Alma wanted to talk to her, but she never called back. And Alma wrote to the Poles that unless they moved out soon, she would call the council. And she got her son to come over and change the lock in the laundry basement, and the following day when Alan’s car was on the drive, she saw him walk from the apartment with a plastic bag in his hand, heard the garage door open, and knew that he would soon discover that the lock had been changed, that his key didn’t fit, and wondered what he would do then, she didn’t trust Alan. But nothing happened, she waited in fear for an hour, then she decided that the danger had passed.

  The twentieth of February arrived and then the twenty-fifth and Alma texted the Pole that seeing as she had given notice almost a month ago, Alma had signed an agreement with new people who would be moving in on 15 March; however, builders were coming to fit a new kitchen on 1 March. It wasn’t true, but why shouldn’t she play as dirty as they did?

  Just one hour later when Alma was halfway up the steep hill to Sydmarksetra car park where she had gone to ski, she got a message from the Pole; she parked her car and read it. No hi, no Alma, just: I wrote to you in writing that you must pay the rest of the deposit. It be 3,500. If you don’t give me the money, we will not be in motion out of the apartment for 1 March. I want no people in my house then I call the police.

  That was the final straw. She didn’t get out of the car, but turned it around, drove home as fast as she could, impatiently, she could feel her heart pounding in her throat, blood roaring in her temples, all the clichés, which was why they were clichés, this was how deep outrage felt, that was enough, there had to be limits, she couldn’t get home quickly enough, she had to get back while her body and her mind still felt as they did now, before it subsided even a little and she started having the slightest doubt; this time she called no one, she didn’t want to be talked out of anything or calmed down now that she was in full flow without any inhibitions; she couldn’t get home fast enough to express it, she forced the car up the drive, parked it and ran outside and could smell burned rubber, she registered that Alan’s car wasn’t there, but even if it had been there, she would still have done what she did, she ran up and banged on the door again and again because she knew they were in there, her car was in the drive and all the lights were on, she hammered on the door and didn’t stop until it was opened a little, and Alma pushed it open and stormed into the small hallway and glared at the Pole’s anxious face and her hair in old-fashioned curlers and she was wearing a singlet, of course she was, in the middle of winter. That’s enough, Alma shouted, this time you’ve gone too far, she yelled, you bloody well move out now! The Pole appeared unprepared for Alma’s wrath; she had never seen and had never known Alma to possess such rage, she might even have thought that Alma was just as scared of, say, Alan as she was, that Alan’s mere presence would make Alma shake like the Pole shook in front of Alan, that Alma was scared of the police, she might have misinterpreted Alma’s formal conduct and behaviour, and thought that Alma always and without exception obeyed laws and regulations, and now she suddenly had a fury in her hall who refused to budge, and Alma could see that the Pole was struggling to keep her cool, especially because Alan – who had in all likelihood he
lped her compose the wording in that outrageous message which threatened Alma with the police, if she let in carpenters to knock down the kitchen in an apartment that was now occupied illegally – wasn’t there and couldn’t protect her. You can’t live here without paying, Alma shouted into the face of the Pole, and the Pole pressed her lips together as if she thought that she could, that she could live for free in Alma’s house and not pay, and had made up her mind along with Alan to do just that. You can’t live here without paying, Alma shouted again. Did you really think you could, she asked with searing irony and the Pole didn’t reply, and the little girl appeared in the doorway at the top of the steps, her eyes frantic with fear, and the Pole struggled to control her expression and ran upstairs into the living room and fetched a folder to show Alma that she had the paperwork in order and pulled out the contract Alan had signed, where it said that the deposit was 10,000 kroner. Is that your signature, she asked, pointing to Alma’s handwriting at the bottom of the document. But that money was never paid, Alma shouted, now bordering on hysteria. No account was ever opened for the deposit. Or you would have had the account number, surely? But you already know this, Alma shouted, because you were there. And Alan knows it too. And yet they were intending to use this stupid piece of paper against her, blackmail her with it, but it was no use, she wanted to tell her, it was irrelevant, besides this agreement wasn’t valid, but the one she signed with the interpreter and the social worker was, did she have that? And the Pole raced upstairs again past the terrified child with her hand on the door frame, the other on a hideous steel lamp with fringes on the shade, and the Pole came back with another folder, looked inside it, found a sheet of paper and waved it under Alma’s nose, and Alma wanted to snatch it, but the Pole withdrew her hand. Does it say anything about a deposit, Alma shouted, does it say anything about a deposit, she demanded to know in a louder voice, and the Pole hesitated probably because she hadn’t checked it, just taken Alan’s word for it, Alma thought, and the Pole glanced briefly at the papers before putting them quickly back in the folder, then she jutted out her chin as if proud and looked hatefully at Alma, but Alma could see that her eyes were moist. Does it say anything about a deposit, Alma asked again somewhat calmer now because it doesn’t, she said and raised her voice again, so you’re living here illegally and if anyone is calling the police, it’ll be me, Alma declared and left. If anyone is calling the police, she repeated, then it’ll be me! Then she turned on her heel and marched down to her car and drove away, she couldn’t stand being there a moment longer.