Read Online Intrusion: A Novel by Mary McCluskey - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary McCluskey
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table. Holding her wineglass with both hands, she took a few sips to calm herself. Sven. To hear Sarah say his name had shaken her. Once, to talk of him would have caused tears.
She had heard about the Danish exchange student long before she met him. Paul spent summers with his friend in Denmark and had shown Kat pictures, and so, already interested, she dressed carefully on the day that the blond male was due to join her university comparative literature class. When he walked into the classroom, every girl in the room turned to stare at him. Sven, tall, flushed with radiant good health, seemed to glow. The English boys in the class, pale after a long winter, looked gray and drab in comparison. Kat was surprised when he asked her out, so many prettier girls were flirting with him, and wondered if Paul had suggested it, but Sven seemed genuinely interested and they dated all that semester. They spent a lot of time in bed. In the mornings, she would watch him exercise, a ritual he never missed.
“You’re the poster boy for healthy living,” she told him once as he measured out ingredients for a breakfast shake. “What are you adding to that now? Eye of newt? Toe of dog? It’s a very weird color.”
He looked up, puzzled.
“Those are healthy things? This is fruit only. The blueberries change the color. I will make enough for you.”
“I’ll be the healthiest woman on the planet. All this exercise and fruit shakes, too.”
He smiled a white, wide smile.
Meticulous in courtship as he was in everything else, he asked if she was certain before inviting her to bed, was careful about contraception, sexually considerate. When she introduced him to her roommate, he seemed shy and intimidated. Sarah liked to tease him a little, call him the handsome Nordic god, make him blush.
In private, Sarah chided Kat.
“He’s sweet. And yes, he’s attractive. But, Caitlin, he’s so bland, so wooden. You can’t be serious about going to Denmark? What on earth will you talk about? Or do you plan to stay in bed for a year?”
It was his strong back Kat saw first, on that dark, rainy afternoon. Then, the muscular shoulders, the blond hair curling at the nape of his neck. He was murmuring to Sarah, the urgent intonation quite different from the voice he used with Kat. He seemed to be pleading.
She stood frozen in the doorway, her umbrella dripping, her hair in her eyes. Sarah and Sven. Kat had raced from the room, gone straight home to Rugby. Maggie’s wedding was the next day. Kat never saw Sven conscious again. The next time she saw him, he was just a blank body in a hospital bed.
She recalled the slow-motion minutes during Maggie and Paul’s wedding reception when Paul was called to the phone and returned to the ballroom, his face ashen. He whispered something to his new bride and both turned to stare at Kat as she stood chatting with a cousin. She remembered her sister crossing the room to tell her the bad news, her arms already outstretched.
All three had rushed to the hospital, Maggie in a borrowed raincoat over her wedding dress, to wait for hours in an echoing corridor. Paul, usually so calm, was agitated, his eyes bright with anxiety, hassling the nurses and the young doctors. “Why won’t they tell us anything? Why can’t we see him?” he asked repeatedly. But they were not family; they were not allowed into the ICU. Eventually, a nurse took pity on them and allowed them to sit with Sven, one by one, in the sterile, beeping hospital room.
“This is our wedding day,” Maggie whispered to Kat as Paul took his turn. “We should have left for our honeymoon an hour ago.”
Then, late that night, Sven’s parents arrived from Denmark, so stiff, so formal, and his friends were not allowed to see him again. Sven was moved to a special unit in the hospital. He had a fractured skull, they were told. There was some damage to the spinal cord. Eventually, his parents arranged for him to be taken back to Denmark. Kat never
She had heard about the Danish exchange student long before she met him. Paul spent summers with his friend in Denmark and had shown Kat pictures, and so, already interested, she dressed carefully on the day that the blond male was due to join her university comparative literature class. When he walked into the classroom, every girl in the room turned to stare at him. Sven, tall, flushed with radiant good health, seemed to glow. The English boys in the class, pale after a long winter, looked gray and drab in comparison. Kat was surprised when he asked her out, so many prettier girls were flirting with him, and wondered if Paul had suggested it, but Sven seemed genuinely interested and they dated all that semester. They spent a lot of time in bed. In the mornings, she would watch him exercise, a ritual he never missed.
“You’re the poster boy for healthy living,” she told him once as he measured out ingredients for a breakfast shake. “What are you adding to that now? Eye of newt? Toe of dog? It’s a very weird color.”
He looked up, puzzled.
“Those are healthy things? This is fruit only. The blueberries change the color. I will make enough for you.”
“I’ll be the healthiest woman on the planet. All this exercise and fruit shakes, too.”
He smiled a white, wide smile.
Meticulous in courtship as he was in everything else, he asked if she was certain before inviting her to bed, was careful about contraception, sexually considerate. When she introduced him to her roommate, he seemed shy and intimidated. Sarah liked to tease him a little, call him the handsome Nordic god, make him blush.
In private, Sarah chided Kat.
“He’s sweet. And yes, he’s attractive. But, Caitlin, he’s so bland, so wooden. You can’t be serious about going to Denmark? What on earth will you talk about? Or do you plan to stay in bed for a year?”
It was his strong back Kat saw first, on that dark, rainy afternoon. Then, the muscular shoulders, the blond hair curling at the nape of his neck. He was murmuring to Sarah, the urgent intonation quite different from the voice he used with Kat. He seemed to be pleading.
She stood frozen in the doorway, her umbrella dripping, her hair in her eyes. Sarah and Sven. Kat had raced from the room, gone straight home to Rugby. Maggie’s wedding was the next day. Kat never saw Sven conscious again. The next time she saw him, he was just a blank body in a hospital bed.
She recalled the slow-motion minutes during Maggie and Paul’s wedding reception when Paul was called to the phone and returned to the ballroom, his face ashen. He whispered something to his new bride and both turned to stare at Kat as she stood chatting with a cousin. She remembered her sister crossing the room to tell her the bad news, her arms already outstretched.
All three had rushed to the hospital, Maggie in a borrowed raincoat over her wedding dress, to wait for hours in an echoing corridor. Paul, usually so calm, was agitated, his eyes bright with anxiety, hassling the nurses and the young doctors. “Why won’t they tell us anything? Why can’t we see him?” he asked repeatedly. But they were not family; they were not allowed into the ICU. Eventually, a nurse took pity on them and allowed them to sit with Sven, one by one, in the sterile, beeping hospital room.
“This is our wedding day,” Maggie whispered to Kat as Paul took his turn. “We should have left for our honeymoon an hour ago.”
Then, late that night, Sven’s parents arrived from Denmark, so stiff, so formal, and his friends were not allowed to see him again. Sven was moved to a special unit in the hospital. He had a fractured skull, they were told. There was some damage to the spinal cord. Eventually, his parents arranged for him to be taken back to Denmark. Kat never
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