Shame

transfer the money, but it depends on what you want to do with it, whether it’s legal with regard to taxes, I mean. If there’s something you want to buy, then a cashier’s cheque is preferable.’
    ‘No, I’m not buying anything.’
    He hesitated again. Looked around as if he wanted some colleague to come and help him.
    ‘This will be quite a considerable sum that is being transferred, so …’
    He typed again.
    ‘Four hundred and fifty-three thousand five hundred and twenty-three kronor. I just want you to know that such a large transfer might interest the tax authorities.’
    Monika suddenly noticed that her vague irritation was growing stronger and that it would soon become apparent to the man on the other side of the counter. This wasn’t like her, either. Not caring what that officious man thought of her. That for once she might be viewed as annoying with all her demands. But she would have to take it a little easy. She wasn’t finished yet, she had more matters to take care of, and it would be more difficult if she lost his goodwill.
    ‘Then I’ll take a cashier’s cheque.’
    He nodded and was about to pull out a drawer when she continued.
    ‘And then I’d like to take out a loan.’
    He began digging in the drawer and found the paper with the survey of her apartment. It was nine months old, but the building was known all over the city. Everyone knew how attractive the flats were. For those who could afford them.
    He gently closed the drawer, looking at her a bit longer this time, and then began reading the paper. She didn’t take her eyes off him as he scanned the document. She already had a mortgage on the apartment even though she could have made a large cash down-payment. Someone had told her that for tax reasons it was better to have the loan outstanding instead of paying it off with the money she had in the bank.
    When he finished reading he looked at her again.
    ‘How much did you have in mind?’
    ‘How much could I borrow?’
    He stood quite still. Then his hand went to his throat and tugged a little on the perfect knot of his necktie. He pulled out the drawer again and took out a form.
    ‘Please fill this out while I do some calculations.’
    She read the paper lying on the counter. Income, length of employment, marital status, number of children to support.
    She took a pen and started filling in the information.
    Her gaze settled on the hand holding the pen, and suddenly she didn’t recognise it. She recognised the ring she had bought for herself and saw that her fingers were making the motions she was telling them to do, but the hand seemed somehow separate, as if it belonged to someone else’s body.

    ‘You can borrow three hundred thousand more on the equity in your property.’
    He had gone over the completed form and familiarised himself with what else he needed to know, and now he placed a loan proposal on the counter in front of her. She had seen him talking with one of his colleagues. Noticed that during the conversation they had looked at her a few times, but she didn’t care. It was strange how unmoved it all left her. But three hundred thousand wasn’t enough. She needed more, and she slid his proposal back across the counter.
    ‘How much can I borrow beyond this amount?’
    She could see that he hesitated. She sensed his anxiety and was perfectly aware that she was the cause of it, but it didn’t faze her. She had a mission to fulfil and he had nothing to do with it.
    And what should she do with her money if she didn’t even have the right to be alive?
    ‘It’s easier if we know what you will be using the money for. I mean, if, for example, you want to buy a house or a car, it would be much easier for us to grant a loan.’
    ‘But that’s not what I’m going to do. I’m quite pleased with my BMW.’
    Her hand again. It looked different. And the words she heard herself saying were unfamiliar too.
    ‘I can see here that you have an excellent income and … you’re a doctor … and your ability to repay the loan is undeniably excellent. And only one child to support.’
    He hesitated.
    ‘Wait just a moment, I’ll consult my colleague.’
    He strode through the bank. She looked at the paper she had filled out.
    She had at least been honest, obviously, and put down her obligation to support Daniella.
    But only one child to support.
    He was an idiot.

    He was conferring with the woman she had said hello to when she came in. That was good. She presumably