Read Online A Blessed Child by Linn Ullmann - Free Book Online
Authors: Linn Ullmann
Tags: Fiction
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and let himself slip into a few hours of peaceful sleep. And suddenly, just when his parents could fight their sleepiness no more, he opened his eyes and said,
Let’s always remember this moment. Always! No matter what happens, let’s not forget that we lay here in this bed, all three of us, utterly alive and utterly still. When I’m older I want you to tell me about this night, how we lay here in bed close to one another and you sang the night away. I know nothing of how my life will turn out, but whatever happens I want you to tell me about our lying here, all three of us, about how much you loved me and how scared you were of losing me.
The little boy opened his eyes and looked at his parents, and suddenly they knew what they were going to call him. A few years later they split up, parting as enemies and tugging their children in opposite directions, as if the children had very long arms, but on that particular night they lay quietly beside each other in bed with the little boy between them. His mother slept and his daddy stayed awake, or his daddy slept and his mother stayed awake, and the little boy slept and woke, slept and woke, as is the way with very small babies quite new on this earth.
Erika filled up the tank. She bought two bars of chocolate. One for herself and one for the boy in the backseat. She considered buying a bar of chocolate for her pregnant passenger but decided not to. She came out of the shop and ran to the car, then turned and ran back in again. She bought oranges. She had had a taste for them both times she was pregnant herself. It wasn’t far to Sunne. She got into the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition. The woman beside her was staring straight ahead. She hadn’t taken off her coat or loosened the belt.
Chapter 20
A few months before Erika’s thirtieth birthday, she went out to a restaurant with Laura and Molly. It was something they did from time to time. First they had dinner and then they went to a bar and drank vodka and talked about their husbands, their jobs, and a little bit about the old man on Hammarsö. It was a mild summer’s evening and Erika drank too much. Erika couldn’t take much alcohol. And it was then that she met Tomas. Nine years later, on her way to Sunne in the car, she had the feeling she had never really sobered up since that day; as if that last sip of spirits, the one that illuminated the room and set the orchestra playing, had still not evaporated but had left vague little traces in her body.
Tomas was sitting at a table on the other side of the bar, drinking beer. It was Molly who saw him first. Then Laura saw him. And finally Erika saw him, too. Later that evening, she threw up over him in the taxi.
“I’m not used to drinking this much,” she kept saying, as she tried to wipe the sick off his shirt. Tomas helped her upstairs, maneuvered her into the bathroom, sat her on the floor of the shower, and let the warm water flow. He washed her hair and dried the back of her long, slender neck with a towel. He said she had the palest neck he had ever seen. Like a ballet dancer, he said.
“My mother’s a ballet dancer,” she said, and began to cry.
He gave her clean clothes, a cotton shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and put her in a chair in the living room. He went out to the kitchen to make coffee. She did not want to lose him. She was tired and she ached all over, as if she had given birth without a moment to rest afterward. Everything just carried on. She sat in the chair in his living room and knew she must not lose him.
“Can you hear me, out there in the kitchen?” she called.
“I can hear you,” he called back.
Erika sang:
I wish, I wish, but it’s all in vain,
I wish I were a maid again;
But a maid again I never shall be
Till apples grow on an orange tree.
The idea had been for them to make love, and then for her to go home to Sundt and the children, slip under the covers beside Sundt, and wonder whether Sundt could
Let’s always remember this moment. Always! No matter what happens, let’s not forget that we lay here in this bed, all three of us, utterly alive and utterly still. When I’m older I want you to tell me about this night, how we lay here in bed close to one another and you sang the night away. I know nothing of how my life will turn out, but whatever happens I want you to tell me about our lying here, all three of us, about how much you loved me and how scared you were of losing me.
The little boy opened his eyes and looked at his parents, and suddenly they knew what they were going to call him. A few years later they split up, parting as enemies and tugging their children in opposite directions, as if the children had very long arms, but on that particular night they lay quietly beside each other in bed with the little boy between them. His mother slept and his daddy stayed awake, or his daddy slept and his mother stayed awake, and the little boy slept and woke, slept and woke, as is the way with very small babies quite new on this earth.
Erika filled up the tank. She bought two bars of chocolate. One for herself and one for the boy in the backseat. She considered buying a bar of chocolate for her pregnant passenger but decided not to. She came out of the shop and ran to the car, then turned and ran back in again. She bought oranges. She had had a taste for them both times she was pregnant herself. It wasn’t far to Sunne. She got into the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition. The woman beside her was staring straight ahead. She hadn’t taken off her coat or loosened the belt.
Chapter 20
A few months before Erika’s thirtieth birthday, she went out to a restaurant with Laura and Molly. It was something they did from time to time. First they had dinner and then they went to a bar and drank vodka and talked about their husbands, their jobs, and a little bit about the old man on Hammarsö. It was a mild summer’s evening and Erika drank too much. Erika couldn’t take much alcohol. And it was then that she met Tomas. Nine years later, on her way to Sunne in the car, she had the feeling she had never really sobered up since that day; as if that last sip of spirits, the one that illuminated the room and set the orchestra playing, had still not evaporated but had left vague little traces in her body.
Tomas was sitting at a table on the other side of the bar, drinking beer. It was Molly who saw him first. Then Laura saw him. And finally Erika saw him, too. Later that evening, she threw up over him in the taxi.
“I’m not used to drinking this much,” she kept saying, as she tried to wipe the sick off his shirt. Tomas helped her upstairs, maneuvered her into the bathroom, sat her on the floor of the shower, and let the warm water flow. He washed her hair and dried the back of her long, slender neck with a towel. He said she had the palest neck he had ever seen. Like a ballet dancer, he said.
“My mother’s a ballet dancer,” she said, and began to cry.
He gave her clean clothes, a cotton shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and put her in a chair in the living room. He went out to the kitchen to make coffee. She did not want to lose him. She was tired and she ached all over, as if she had given birth without a moment to rest afterward. Everything just carried on. She sat in the chair in his living room and knew she must not lose him.
“Can you hear me, out there in the kitchen?” she called.
“I can hear you,” he called back.
Erika sang:
I wish, I wish, but it’s all in vain,
I wish I were a maid again;
But a maid again I never shall be
Till apples grow on an orange tree.
The idea had been for them to make love, and then for her to go home to Sundt and the children, slip under the covers beside Sundt, and wonder whether Sundt could
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