You're Mine Now

by Koppel, Hans

  ‘Are you drunk?’ Kathrine wondered.

  ‘No, unfortunately.’

  More laughter and doubling up.

  ‘Delicious, isn’t it?’ she mimicked, and dried the tears from her eyes.

  ‘Poor people,’ Kathrine said. ‘Imagine if they knew what you were saying.’

  ‘Won’t you have a glass of wine?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘Just the one glass?’ she teased, and looked at the clock. ‘Actually, half a glass. I thought I’d catch the last bus home.’

  ‘You can stay here, if you like,’ Anna offered.

  ‘Thank you, that’s kind. But it’s always good to wake up in your own bed.’

  Magnus came back with a bottle and some glasses.

  ‘I think it’s a bit strange that they praise each other,’ Kathrine said.

  ‘Yes,’ Anna replied, ‘but that’s the whole thing. It’s so charming, their guileless delight.’

  She fanned her face in her hand.

  ‘Oof, I feel so mean.’

  ‘But you had a nice time?’ Kathrine asked. ‘Apart from the food.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Magnus said, with undisguised enthusiasm. ‘There was a dessert as well.’

  ‘Ice cream,’ Anna howled. ‘It’s always ice cream. Every time.’

  ‘With a fruit salad,’ Magnus added. ‘From a tin!’

  Kathrine shook her head.

  ‘I hope you didn’t show your contempt while you were there,’ she said. ‘You actually sound quite nasty. I’m no great star in the kitchen either. What do you say when you’ve been to me for dinner?’

  ‘Mum, you’re in a totally different league. Not even the same solar system.’

  ‘You make really good food,’ Magnus assured her.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Kathrine said. ‘I make food, but it’s seldom very good. Cheers.’

  They raised their glasses.

  ‘When does the bus go?’

  ‘Half past,’ Anna said. ‘Take a taxi. We can pay for it.’

  ‘Taxi? When I can take the bus? What a silly idea. And in any case, it’s fun. Always some tipsy teenagers who get up to give me a seat. And then I can sit there and listen to them talk about their dramas. All their feelings on the outside. It energises me just to hear them.’

  ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘Not at all. Today’s teenagers are very well brought up. Anyone who says otherwise is just frightened, but doesn’t know what of.’

  ‘Okay, as you like,’ Anna said. ‘But I’ll come to the bus stop with you.’

  The air was cool and moist, the wind was soughing in the treetops along Landborgen. Anna and Kathrine walked arm in arm. Anna hoped that it was a tradition that would be passed on to the next generation.

  ‘Was everything okay with Hedda?’ she asked.

  ‘Just fine. She fell asleep in front of the television, so I carried her to bed. She’s such a lovely girl. You’ve done well by her.’

  ‘I don’t know that we’ve done anything really. She came ready-made.’

  ‘I think you can take some of the credit. Is she still riding?’

  ‘Twice a week. She thinks it’s fun.’

  Kathrine nodded.

  ‘That’s the main thing,’ she said.

  They walked in silence, side by side.

  ‘And you’re having fun too,’ she added. ‘You and Magnus.’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna confirmed. ‘We can laugh together.’

  ‘That’s important. That and the sack, and then you can solve most things.’

  ‘We’re okay on that front too. What happened, it was just… Did you never do something stupid?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do tell.’

  ‘No, no, never. Strictly off limits.’

  They walked past Hedda’s school, which stood deserted in the dark.

  ‘Empty schools are spooky,’ Anna said. ‘You can hear the echoes of all the break-time voices.’

  ‘The nights are okay. Sunny summer days are worse.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Kathrine shrugged.

  ‘You always seem to see some poor lonely soul on the swings or the climbing frame, someone with no friends who should really be on the beach. Someone who wants the holidays to end and the automatic social life of school to start again. Children left to look after themselves.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Anna agreed.

  They sat in the bus shelter. When the bus appeared over the crest of the hill like a lit-up ferry, they got up. Kathrine gave her daughter a hug.

  ‘Take care,’ she said. ‘And for God’s sake, don’t confess to Magnus. That would be a greater offence than the original one. People share their rubbish whenever they feel like it these days. It’s not good, not for anyone. If you need to talk, call me, promise.’

  Anna nodded. Kathrine stroked her cheek.

  ‘Good, darling,’ she said, and got on to the bus.

  Anna stood and watched as her mother made her way down the aisle of the bus, which was full of drunk teenagers ready to party. Just like a fish in water, she thought to herself and raised her hand and waved as the bus accelerated in towards town.

  Then her heart flipped.

  Erik Månsson was standing on the other side of the road.

  19

  ‘Damn,’ he said, and crossed the road.

  He looked at Anna, who couldn’t make a sound.

  ‘When’s the next one?’

  She stared at him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘What? Oh, I’ve been to see a friend. When’s the next bus?’

  Anna didn’t answer. Erik walked past her into the shelter and ran his finger down the timetable that was hanging there. She looked at him uneasily, tried to find a logical explanation why the man she had slept with suddenly appeared only a block from her house just after midnight.

  ‘It was the last one, wasn’t it?’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  Erik looked at her as if she were stupid.

  ‘I just said. I was at a friend’s. Why? Can’t I come here? Do you own this part of town?’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Who? My friend? What makes you think it’s a he?’

  Erik gave a self-confident laugh.

  ‘Are you following me?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Am I what?’

  ‘You heard,’ Anna said.

  He seemed to be more amused than anything else.

  ‘Why on earth would I follow you? I’ve been to visit a friend.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Why? Don’t you believe me? He’s called Johan, he lives in one of the white-brick buildings down there. Johan Andersson.’

  ‘Johan Andersson.’

  ‘An old friend, married, two kids. Why? What are you doing here?’

  ‘I live here. You know that. You’ve checked my address.’

  ‘I mean, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night without a dog or anything?’

  ‘I was keeping my mum company while she waited for the bus.’

  ‘Well, she caught it then,’ Erik sighed. ‘Lucky for her.’

  ‘How old are the children?’

  ‘Which children?’

  ‘Your friend’s. You said he had two children.’

  ‘How old? Three and five.’

  ‘Called?’

  ‘Saga and Max. Why?’

  He laughed again and shook his head.

  ‘You really think I’ve come here to do what – to spy on you? Don’t you think you might be exaggerating your own importance just a little?’

  Anna didn’t answer.

  ‘Come on,’ Erik said. ‘You’re making me nervous. Exactly what would I get out of it?’

  ‘Which one’s oldest?’

  ‘Which what’s oldest?’

  ‘Of the children. Mats or Saga?’

  ‘Mats? His name’s Max. Who would call their kid Mats these days?’ Erik gave a weary sigh and said: ‘She is. The
girl’s the oldest.’

  ‘Saga?’

  He gave an irritated single nod.

  ‘Satisfied?’

  Anna relaxed a bit and changed tack.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  ‘No worries.’

  Erik looked away. Anna reached out and gave him a friendly prod on the shoulder.

  ‘I didn’t mean to offend you, but I’ve got a family. I love my husband.’

  He nodded, with gritted teeth.

  ‘It’s different for you,’ she added.

  He looked at her.

  ‘What do you know about that?’ he said, almost aggressively, and walked off.

  Anna hurried to catch up with him, stopped in front of him and blocked his path.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I really didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  He turned his face away like a child who’s been treated unfairly.

  ‘Erik… please. It was silly of me. I’m sorry.’

  He looked at her.

  ‘Do you know how it feels? You’re making all kinds of accusations. Why would I follow you? Tell me. Why the fuck would I follow you?’

  Anna looked at the ground.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It was just such a surprise to see you. I never intended to jump to conclusions.’

  ‘No, you just did it naturally.’

  He took a deep breath.

  ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ he said. ‘I have to walk back into town. It’s going to take an hour and I’m tired.’

  He walked past her. Anna stood there. What she wanted to say was stuck in her throat.

  ‘You took your time.’

  Magnus was in his underpants, with his toothbrush in his mouth.

  ‘The bus was late,’ Anna said.

  Her husband spat the toothpaste out into the sink.

  ‘Was starting to wonder if something had happened.’

  Which is why you’re getting ready to go to bed, Anna thought.

  ‘Actually tried to ring,’ he added, in an accusing tone.

  ‘I didn’t have my phone with me.’

  ‘No, so I heard.’

  He dried his mouth on a towel, smiled at Anna.

  ‘Have to say, your mother is very cool.’

  ‘Yes, can’t say I don’t agree.’

  ‘If you’re like that when you get old, I won’t complain.’

  Anna smiled and squeezed out some toothpaste. She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She knew what she looked like inside out, but was blind to how she looked from the outside. Like so many women, she saw only her flaws, her shortcomings, the ultimate abnormalities. She wondered whether Magnus reacted to the skin by her ears, if he concentrated on the crow’s feet around her eyes, the deepening furrows from her nose down to her mouth. Probably not to any great extent.

  Anna had talked to Trude and Sissela about the moment when they’d first discovered that they were women. For all of them, it was when men had started to comment on their appearance, and for Anna, it was a boy in high school. He had passed her in the corridor and spontaneously exclaimed, Nice tits! as he passed. As if it were the most natural thing in the world to comment on a stranger’s appearance.

  Anna looked at them in the mirror and thought to herself that he hadn’t been wrong. In fact, overall, there wasn’t much to complain about.

  Erik went to his car, which was parked a block away, and drove home. He hadn’t planned anything, had just thought of observing from a distance. When Anna left the house to walk to the bus stop with her mum, an opportunity opened up.

  He didn’t know what he’d expected. If he’d expected anything at all. He had, of course, hoped that she would be pleased to see him, hadn’t imagined otherwise.

  Instead she chose to confront him. What was he doing there? Who had he been to see? What were the children called?

  He’d managed to pull it off, but her reaction was appalling.

  He found a parking place by Norra Hamnen, walked back to the flat and turned on the computer. He knew the video clip off by heart, but still couldn’t get enough of it.

  She was theatrical. Women were. It was as if they got their ideals from films. An uncontrollable passion that took over them, an animal instinct that freed them from responsibility and obliterated their guilt. Preferably up against a wall.

  Intertwined and half-naked, they appeared in the picture. Kissing and passion, a quick exploration of each other’s bodies, both flattered by mutual desire. The deep sigh of satisfaction when he penetrated her.

  Her vulgar torrent of words, how she begged him to go deeper and take her harder, her face that distorted when she came.

  It had the same effect every time.

  Erik unbuttoned his jeans.

  20

  Anna looked at her husband with amusement.

  ‘Shall I show you what you’re sitting on?’

  ‘Very funny.’

  Magnus pulled more of the lead towards him. He had washed the outside of the car, rinsed the rubber mats and was now going to vacuum the inside. All so they could take good pictures that showed the car at its best.

  ‘It’s all about turning the buyer on,’ he explained. ‘The first impression is what counts.’

  Sweden’s worst car buyer was now an expert in selling and knew how it should be done. The professional dealer they had visited earlier in the week hadn’t wanted to give them a better offer, which had annoyed both Magnus and Anna so much that they decided to try an alternative make to the car that was almost obligatory for Swedish families.

  ‘You don’t have to put your bum in the same seat all your life,’ he continued. ‘It’s the customer who decides.’

  Magnus was lured by the prestige of a German make, Anna by the prospect of something cheaper. But no matter what, the first thing on their list was to sell their existing car.

  ‘You’re good,’ Anna said, and left her husband to his work.

  Half an hour later she was standing in the kitchen with Anna, watching Magnus set up his rarely used camera equipment, which included a tripod and remote control.

  ‘Is he taking pictures?’ Hedda asked.

  ‘No, he’s creating images,’ Anna replied, unable to hold back a laugh.

  Hedda didn’t understand what was so funny, but was happy just to be part of it.

  ‘Wait,’ Anna said, and went out into the hall and dug out a beret from among all the hats. ‘Go out to Daddy and say that he has to put this on.’

  Hedda went out and handed him the beret. She pointed towards Anna, who was in the kitchen filming it all on her mobile phone. When Magnus realised that unexpectedly he was entertaining his family with his artistic ambitions, he donned the beret and played along, moved the tripod centimetre this way, a centimetre that – unable to decide which was best.

  Two hours later they were sitting in their newly spruced car on the way to Väla. The advert had been posted on the internet and Magnus checked his phone at regular intervals to make sure that he hadn’t missed any calls from prospective buyers.

  ‘It’s never looked so good,’ Anna said, when they’d parked. ‘Maybe we should just keep it.’

  Magnus looked at her. His entire existence was now focused on upgrading the car. His wife’s words made the ground under him shudder on the Richter Scale.

  ‘Just joking,’ she said, and took his arm.

  The heaving shopping centre was like a cancerous tumour, packed full of hypnotised shopping zombies. Anna nudged Magnus in the ribs and nodded at their daughter, who was walking a few steps in front of them. She looked like a born-again Bible belt American in Jesus country. Hedda’s wide-eyed fascination with the people and what was on offer made both Anna and Magnus quiver with delight. They both realised they had to enjoy it while it lasted. Soon enough Hedda would be embarrassed to be seen with them, like all teenagers.

  She turned to them.

  ‘Mum, your phone’s ringing. Can’t you hear it?

  Anna fished her phone out of her
bag.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi, it’s me.’

  Erik’s voice. Anna’s mood swung from easy and happy to troubled and nervous within a fraction of a second. Her windpipe constricted and her cheeks reddened. She stopped, trying to keep her distance from Magnus. But he stopped too, looked at her, wondered who it was on the phone.

  ‘No, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong number,’ Anna forced herself to say.

  ‘Call me,’ Erik said.

  ‘Not at all.’

  She hung up.

  ‘Wrong number,’ she said, and put her phone back in her bag.

  She could barely swallow, looked around to find something to comment on, something insignificant and everyday, whatever. She was ready to confess, whether it was wanted or not. She couldn’t hide her feelings from the man she loved and had shared her life with for fifteen years, it wasn’t possible.

  ‘Right,’ was Magnus’ response. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I want to go to the pet shop,’ Hedda cried.

  ‘I have to pop into H&M,’ Anna said. ‘Need to buy some tights.’

  ‘Okay,’ Magnus replied. ‘I’ll go to the pet shop with Hedda and we’ll meet outside the coffee place.’

  Anna smiled at him with love.

  ‘You really don’t want to be here any longer than necessary,’ she said.

  Magnus shrugged.

  ‘Just thought it would be more efficient.’

  ‘Okay, see you there.’

  They parted. After a hundred metres, Anna turned to make sure her husband and daughter were far enough away. She got out her phone and called.

  ‘Hi.’

  His voice was soft and affectionate, intimate, as if they shared a world together.

  ‘I’m with Magnus and my daughter at Väla,’ Anna snapped, and looked around.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘You can’t call me, certainly not on a Sunday. Don’t you understand that?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What do you mean, “what do you mean”?’

  ‘Why can’t I call you?

  ‘Because I’m married and I have children.’

  ‘You don’t know why I’m calling you. Maybe I want some help with the advertising campaign.’

  ‘Erik…’

  ‘I miss you.’

  Anna didn’t answer.