silence ensues.
“So what do you think?” she says and looks up at him. “What do you think you can do?”
“I don’t know,” Henning says and exhales heavily. “But I think I’m going to need my gym bag.”
13
“Are we nearly there yet?” Julie Brenden whines. She tries to wriggle out of her car seat, but the seat belt keeps her in place.
“Not long to go now, darling,” Elisabeth replies, turning around. “Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
“It’s just over there,” Thorleif says as the popular Bogstad Lake, where people go swimming in the summer and skiing in the winter, appears behind the trees. On the far shore the manicured fairways of the fashionable Oslo Golf Club sparkle in the late-summer sun.
“Oh, dear,” Elisabeth exclaims as they turn into Bogstad Farm. “We’re not the only one who thought of this.”
Thorleif looks at the sea of cars parked outside the farm. He lets the car roll across the thick cobblestones. There isn’t a single vacant parking space to be seen.
“I’ll drop you off outside the entrance and then I’ll look for somewhere to park,” he says.
“That would be great.”
He drives them as close as he can, stops, and helps Julie out of her car seat.
“I’ll be with you very soon,” he says to Elisabeth. “Keep your mobile on so I can find you.”
Elisabeth doesn’t seem to hear him, instead she extends her hand toward the children and waves them eagerly over to her. Julie jumps and skips across the cobblestones. Thorleif is about to repeat his request when he notices a dark blue BMW right behind him.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, holding up a hand apologetically. He quickly gets back in the car and drives off. Soon he is back on the road. It’ll be a long walk back, he concludes. Both sides ofthe road are wallpapered with cars. The BMW is still right up his back.
A car park appears to his left. Expectant-looking families are getting out of their cars. I’ll try my luck here, Thorleif thinks and turns into it. He drives slowly across the gravel while scouting for a vacant space.
There! A single vacant space. He presses the accelerator and slips in before someone else grabs the space. Triumphantly, he turns off the engine and sits there for a while feeling the sun heat the car. Thorleif removes his seat belt and as he does so he looks in the rearview mirror. The dark blue BMW is quietly blocking him in. The driver appears to be staring at him. Thorleif tries to work out if the man wants something from him, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.
As Thorleif gets out, the wheels of the BMW dig into the ground and tear it up. Thorleif follows the car with his eyes as it turns right at the end of the car park and accelerates toward the exit. He notices the driver’s fair skin and ponytail. The car indicates left and drives off at speed toward Oslo.
14
Human beings are creatures of habit. They have their fixed rituals, which they repeat every day, every week, every year. Henning is one of those creatures. In the past, before Jonas, he might visit a restaurant or somewhere similar, and if he used the toilet there more than once, he would inevitably find his way back to the same cubicle. He might even wait for it to be vacant if it wasn’t when he first arrived.
Veronica Nansen told him that Tore and his friends worked out every Sunday at one o’clock in the afternoon and that you needed a good reason not to show up. When Henning stops outside Fighting Fit in Kjølbergveien, the time is a little past one thirty. If I’m lucky, he thinks, that ritual is still being honored.
The name of the gym is printed in red letters against a black background on a filthy glass door. The carpet inside is purple. Henning walks up to an imposing reception counter. Three tiny potted plants have been placed at random on the counter next to an index of workout cards and a till. A computer screen lights up the face of a short-haired woman who is staring at it. Two white
“So what do you think?” she says and looks up at him. “What do you think you can do?”
“I don’t know,” Henning says and exhales heavily. “But I think I’m going to need my gym bag.”
13
“Are we nearly there yet?” Julie Brenden whines. She tries to wriggle out of her car seat, but the seat belt keeps her in place.
“Not long to go now, darling,” Elisabeth replies, turning around. “Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
“It’s just over there,” Thorleif says as the popular Bogstad Lake, where people go swimming in the summer and skiing in the winter, appears behind the trees. On the far shore the manicured fairways of the fashionable Oslo Golf Club sparkle in the late-summer sun.
“Oh, dear,” Elisabeth exclaims as they turn into Bogstad Farm. “We’re not the only one who thought of this.”
Thorleif looks at the sea of cars parked outside the farm. He lets the car roll across the thick cobblestones. There isn’t a single vacant parking space to be seen.
“I’ll drop you off outside the entrance and then I’ll look for somewhere to park,” he says.
“That would be great.”
He drives them as close as he can, stops, and helps Julie out of her car seat.
“I’ll be with you very soon,” he says to Elisabeth. “Keep your mobile on so I can find you.”
Elisabeth doesn’t seem to hear him, instead she extends her hand toward the children and waves them eagerly over to her. Julie jumps and skips across the cobblestones. Thorleif is about to repeat his request when he notices a dark blue BMW right behind him.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, holding up a hand apologetically. He quickly gets back in the car and drives off. Soon he is back on the road. It’ll be a long walk back, he concludes. Both sides ofthe road are wallpapered with cars. The BMW is still right up his back.
A car park appears to his left. Expectant-looking families are getting out of their cars. I’ll try my luck here, Thorleif thinks and turns into it. He drives slowly across the gravel while scouting for a vacant space.
There! A single vacant space. He presses the accelerator and slips in before someone else grabs the space. Triumphantly, he turns off the engine and sits there for a while feeling the sun heat the car. Thorleif removes his seat belt and as he does so he looks in the rearview mirror. The dark blue BMW is quietly blocking him in. The driver appears to be staring at him. Thorleif tries to work out if the man wants something from him, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.
As Thorleif gets out, the wheels of the BMW dig into the ground and tear it up. Thorleif follows the car with his eyes as it turns right at the end of the car park and accelerates toward the exit. He notices the driver’s fair skin and ponytail. The car indicates left and drives off at speed toward Oslo.
14
Human beings are creatures of habit. They have their fixed rituals, which they repeat every day, every week, every year. Henning is one of those creatures. In the past, before Jonas, he might visit a restaurant or somewhere similar, and if he used the toilet there more than once, he would inevitably find his way back to the same cubicle. He might even wait for it to be vacant if it wasn’t when he first arrived.
Veronica Nansen told him that Tore and his friends worked out every Sunday at one o’clock in the afternoon and that you needed a good reason not to show up. When Henning stops outside Fighting Fit in Kjølbergveien, the time is a little past one thirty. If I’m lucky, he thinks, that ritual is still being honored.
The name of the gym is printed in red letters against a black background on a filthy glass door. The carpet inside is purple. Henning walks up to an imposing reception counter. Three tiny potted plants have been placed at random on the counter next to an index of workout cards and a till. A computer screen lights up the face of a short-haired woman who is staring at it. Two white
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