Shame

Out there everything was white. A white void where nothing existed. But now she found herself time after time standing at the very edge of the illuminated circle facing the whiteness, and suddenly she realised that something was moving out there, that there was more. In all that whiteness outside it was suddenly possible to discern shadows. Shadows of something that would not quite materialise but was coming closer and closer.

    Vanja’s letter was burned to ashes on the balcony. And yet it hadn’t helped. Vanja was a mentally deranged woman who recounted events that had never happened, and distorted beyond recognition what might have occurred. All the other thoughts and speculations that had been recounted to Maj-Britt were so repulsive that she wished she had never read them. Even though her own relationship with God had been fairly strained, even non-existent, she definitely did not intend to blaspheme. And that was precisely what Vanja did! She blasphemed so terribly, and since Maj-Britt had read her words, she was guilty too. She had to get Vanja to stop sending those letters. Not even the consolation of stuffing something in her mouth remained as an escape for her. And during the past week that pain in her lower back had been so intense that it made her feel nauseous.

    It was two days since she fell out of bed and Ellinor had rescued her. Today Ellinor would be coming back. Maj-Britt had decided during the night what she would do to be rid of her obligation and the hint of atonement that had resulted. She had already undressed. In only her underwear she now lay waiting for Ellinor to arrive. Once Ellinor saw her disgusting body she would back away in repugnance and lose her power. She would be ashamed of her reaction, which she would not be able to hide, and thus Maj-Britt would regain the advantage and her right to display her loathing.

    Writing paper and a pen had been lying on the night-stand for twenty-four hours, right next to the note with Ellinor’s mobile number, and no matter how much it went against the grain, she was forced to admit that it felt good to have that note lying there. If anything should happen again.
    She detested that feeling.
    The fact that Ellinor could offer her something that she didn’t want.
    Four crumpled-up attempts at letters lay on the floor. Saba had sniffed them curiously a couple of times before realising how pathetic they were and losing interest. Her hatred for Vanja was so strong that the words wouldn’t come. What she had done was unforgivable. To crash into a world where she was not welcome and turn everything upside down. To lay claim to someone’s time as if her warped opinions were worth any consideration whatsoever.
    Maj-Britt reached once again for the pen and began to write:
    Vanja ,
    I am writing this letter with a single purpose: to persuade you not to write letters to me!

    That was good. That’s how she should start. Actually, she also wanted to stop there, since that was the only thing she wanted to say.
    Your speculations and thoughts do not interest me; on the contrary, I find them extremely repulsive.

    She crossed out everything and wrote instead:
    What you think and believe is your private business, but I would be grateful to be spared from sharing it. The fact that you presume the right to condemn my parents’ faith, only then to surrender to something resembling a home-made heathen belief upsets me, to tell you the truth, and in view of …
    * * *
    ‘Hello!’
    Maj-Britt quickly laid the pen and paper on the nightstand and pulled back the bed covers. She heard Ellinor hanging up her jacket on one of the hangers in the hall.
    ‘It’s only me!’
    With great effort Saba managed to clamber over the edge of the basket to go and meet Ellinor. Maj-Britt heard the shopping bags being put down in the kitchen and Ellinor approaching the bedroom. Her heart beat faster, not from nervousness but from anticipation. For the first time in ages she felt calm, absolutely in a superior position. Her disgusting body was also her most powerful weapon. To expose it was to throw the viewer off balance.
    Ellinor stopped short in the doorway. She seemed to want to say something but the words got stuck inside her lips. For a second Maj-Britt thought she had succeeded. For a second she managed to feel satisfied, but then Ellinor opened her mouth.
    ‘Good Lord, you’re a sight! We’ll have to put some cream on that eczema right away.’
    Maj-Britt hurriedly