Shame

was done it wanted to go back inside. Somebody opened the balcony door, but it was dark in the flat so she couldn’t make out whether it was a woman or a man.

    Pernilla was sitting on the sofa watching TV. She had put on Mattias’s big pullover again, and Monika saw that she had been crying. In front of her on the table lay a stack of opened envelopes. Monika put down the bags. The hope that she would feel better again as soon as she got back inside the flat had been satisfied, and she felt all her resolve returning. She sat down next to Pernilla on the sofa. It was time to take the next step.
    ‘How’s it going?’
    Pernilla didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and hid her face in her hands. Monika stole a look at the envelopes on the table. Most of them were addressed to Mattias, and they all looked like bills. This was a golden opportunity that mustn’t be wasted.
    ‘I realise it must be tough to open all his letters.’
    Pernilla took her hands away and sniffled a little. Pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them.
    ‘I haven’t been able to open the mail for a while, but I did it while you were out shopping.’
    Monika got up and went into the kitchen to get some paper towels, which she handed to Pernilla when she returned. Pernilla blew her nose and crumpled up the paper into a ball.
    ‘We won’t be able to afford to stay here. I always knew that, but I just couldn’t think about it.’
    Monika sat in silence for a while. It was this information she had waited for Pernilla to confide in her.
    ‘Forgive me for asking, but were you covered by insurance? I mean, accident insurance?’
    Pernilla sighed. And then the whole story came out. The one Mattias had told and which it was now all right for her to know about. This time the account was more detailed. Monika memorised every detail, every number, noted precisely all the particulars in her well-trained memory, and when Pernilla had finished talking Monika was familiar with the whole problem. The loan they had been forced to take to pay their bills after Pernilla’s accident had not been a normal bank loan, but a Finax loan with an interest rate of 32 percent. And since they had not been able to afford any amortisation, the principal amount increased each month and was now up to 718,000 kronor. Pernilla’s only income was her disability pension, and even if it were possible to obtain a housing allowance, she wouldn’t be able to make ends meet.
    ‘Mattias had just started a new job and we were so happy about it. We would have had some tough years but at least we could begin to pay off this bloody loan.’
    Monika had already thought out what she would say when this occasion arose, and now the time was finally here.
    ‘You know, I was just sitting here thinking about something. I can’t promise anything, of course, but I know that there’s a programme that you can apply to when something like this happens.’
    ‘What sort of programme?’
    ‘I’m not quite sure, but I was helping someone else after a death in her family, on behalf of the crisis group, and she got help from that programme. I promise I’ll look it up tomorrow morning.’
    Pernilla shifted position and turned towards her. For that moment she had Pernilla’s full attention.
    ‘Well, if you have time and feel like doing it, that would be very kind.’
    Her heart was beating in a nice, steady rhythm.
    ‘Of course I can arrange it. But I’d need documentation. Loans, insurance, your living expenses, that sort of thing. How much your rehabilitation costs. Chiropractors, massage. Do you think you could get all that together?’
    Pernilla nodded.

    And while Monika stood in the kitchen sautéeing chanterelles, Daniella playing at her feet, and Pernilla coming in now and then to ask about some papers she wondered whether Monika would need, she felt for the first time in ages a strange feeling of serenity.

20
    F or three days no one from the home help agency had called. Neither Ellinor nor anyone else. She had enough food to last, there was no danger of that, but she began to wonder a little. Maybe Ellinor had been so angry that she hadn’t even arranged for a replacement, thought she’d leave the problem to Maj-Britt to solve as best she could. That would be just like her.
    But at least there was food. After three days, with no replenishment needed. She hadn’t called the pizza delivery in weeks. Something had changed, and she suspected that it had to do with the pain