Unspoken

much more came out of the conversation. When Pia Dahlström left, a faint trace of her perfume lingered.
    Several Months Earlier
    “Are we going to eat here?”
    She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She had thought that they were going to a restaurant.
    “That’s right. I borrowed an apartment from a friend. The food is ready upstairs. Come on.”
    He led the way through the front entrance. The building was located on one of those posh streets near Södertorg, inside the ring wall. There was no elevator, so they had to trudge their way up to the fifth floor. When they reached the top landing, she was out of breath and had a growing sense of uneasiness in her chest. She looked at his trousers with the sharp creases. He suddenly seemed so old. What did he want with her here, anyway?
    She had an urge to turn around and run back down the stairs, but then he took her hand.
    “Wait till you see how nice it is.”
    He fumbled with the keys.
    The apartment was the biggest one she had ever seen. It was on the top floor, with thick beams in the ceiling and a view of the sea. The living room was enormous, with a polished hardwood floor and big, colorful paintings on the walls. In one corner stood a table that was set with plates and glasses. He hurried over to light the candles in a candelabra.
    “Come on,” he said eagerly. “Come over here and have a look.”
    They went out on the balcony, which had a panoramic view. She could see the water and part of the harbor, the town, with its labyrinth of buildings, and the tower of the cathedral.
    “Let’s have some champagne.”
    He made it sound so natural that she felt very grown up. He came back with a bottle and two glasses. He eagerly filled them.
    “Cheers.”
    She didn’t dare refuse. Cautiously she took a sip. It tickled her nose but didn’t taste very good. She hadn’t tried much alcohol before. Just a couple of times when her mother had urged her to have some wine on a Saturday evening so that she wouldn’t have to drink alone. Red wine tasted horrible. This was better. She took another sip.
    “So, what do you think? Isn’t this grand?” he said, putting his arm around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to react.
    He drank another toast with her.
    “Drink up, little lady. Then we’ll go in and eat.”
    For dinner they first had toast with some kind of topping. She ate carefully, watching him to see what he did. He poured the rest of the champagne and clinked glasses with her again and again. She took small sips but soon began to feel dizzy. The conversation kept stalling. He asked her a number of questions but mostly talked about himself. Boasted about all the amazing trips he had made to exotic places in the world. As if he wanted to impress her.
    She listened but said very little. Reluctantly she began to relax. It was wonderful to be sitting in such a beautiful room, feeling the warmth from the candles. To be eating such an elegant dinner with muted music in the background. The main course was pork tenderloin with saffron rice. And red wine with the food, much better than the wine she’d tasted at home. She drank the whole glass. He kept on talking as Fanny devoted herself to studying the movements of his lips. She started getting the giggles.
    “Did you enjoy the food?” he asked as he stood up and started clearing away the plates.
    “Yes, thank you. It was great.” She snickered.
    “That’s good.”
    He looked so satisfied that she started laughing even more. To think he could be so pleased just because she was happy.
    “Would you like some coffee? Or maybe you don’t drink coffee?”
    She shook her head.
    “Where’s the bathroom?”
    “It’s out in the hall, to the right. It says ‘WC’ on the door.”
    He pointed, eager to show her the way. She was in such a hurry to pee that she felt as if she would burst.
    The bathroom was just as elegant as the rest of the apartment. It had a light dimmer. She played with the light switch, moving it back and forth. The bathroom was sparkling clean, and it smelled nice. Everything looked new and unused. The toilet paper had a pattern, and it was softer than what she was used to. She smiled at herself in the mirror, then giggled. To think she was allowed to enjoy all this luxury.
    When she went back, he had dimmed the lights and was sitting on the sofa. On the low coffee table stood two glasses of wine and a tray with