Shame

opened the door to take the cordless phone that Pernilla handed to her. She wasn’t sure her voice would hold.
    ‘Yes, this is Monika.’
    ‘Hi, it’s Åse. I don’t want to bother you if you have company, but I just have a brief question.’
    In a flash the membrane was intact again and what had leaked out was in safe custody on the other side. Her first impulse was to pull the door shut behind her, but the need to see Pernilla’s face took precedence. To see whether she reacted, recognised the voice of the woman who with her deep guilt had visited her flat. Pernilla had sat down at the table again, and all Monika could see was her back.
    ‘That’s all right, it’s a good friend who came over for dinner.’
    At any rate she had resumed eating. Monika desperately tried to tell herself that was a good sign.
    ‘Well, the fact is, my daughter Ellinor is working as a home help and she needs your help. As a doctor. I know she wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. I just wonder if it’s okay if I give her your number so she can ring you. She needs to get in touch with a doctor who might consider making a house call to one of her clients.’
    All Monika wanted was to end the conversation, find out what Pernilla had understood or not understood, and return to her seat at the dinner table so that she could see her face. To put to rest the uncertainty, she was willing to go along with anything.
    ‘Of course, no problem. Please ask her to call a bit later this evening so we can arrange a time.’
    And that was the end of the conversation. Monika remained standing, totally still. She looked at Pernilla’s mute back there at the kitchen table, every detail suddenly rendered with such sharpness that it made her eyes burn. She felt the dread of taking the few steps that would give her the opportunity to interpret Pernilla’s expression, show her whether she had been unmasked or not, whether the time had come when she would be forced to confess. Her legs wouldn’t obey her. As long as she stood where she was, she was allowed to put things off.
    Then Pernilla turned round, and it seemed to take an eternity before Monika could see her face.
    ‘God, this thing about the money is unbelievable. Thank you, Monika, thank you so much.’
    The dizziness and nausea were gone, along with her indecision. The deep fright she had felt at the risk of being unmasked had convinced her. It was already too late to turn back.
    She had reached the point of no return.
    To subjugate herself and take responsibility for Mattias was her only means of escape.

24
    M aj-Britt demanded that Ellinor report every word that was said during the phone conversation with the doctor, and Ellinor did the best she could. Maj-Britt wanted to know every syllable, every nuance, the least little tone of voice with which she had been delivered up. She could hardly feel the pain any longer, all her attention was circling round the forthcoming doctor’s visit. And she was afraid; her fear had reached heights it had never even approached before. Soon the front door would open and a strange person would enter her stronghold, and she herself had participated in inviting that person in. And that put her at a disadvantage that was almost impossible to bear.
    ‘I just told her the truth, that you had pain in your lower back.’
    ‘And how did you explain that it was necessary for her to come here?’
    ‘I said that you would rather not leave your flat.’
    ‘What else did you say?’
    ‘I didn’t say much more than that.’
    Maj-Britt had a hunch that Ellinor must have said something else but didn’t want to tell her. She must have described her repulsive body, her unwillingness to co-operate and her disagreeable behaviour. Filth had been said about her, and now she had to let the person who had heard those words come here and touch her.
    Touch her!
    She deeply regretted letting herself be talked into this.

    Ellinor claimed that she had a free day and that was why she could stay at the flat so long, but Maj-Britt refused to be invaded once again by Ellinor’s goodwill. There must be a reason. Why would she do all this if there wasn’t some underlying reason?

    It was a quarter to eleven; only fifteen minutes to go. Fifteen unbearable minutes before the torture would begin.
    Maj-Britt paced up and down the flat, ignoring the pain in her knees. It was a greater torment to sit still.
    ‘How do you know this doctor?’
    Ellinor was sitting cross-legged on