Читать книгу Integrity - Anna Borgeryd - Страница 19

12

Be proud of who you are.

Vera’s teabag

Vera had persuaded Adam to send her favorite jeans, her green sweater and her fall jacket. She thought she had enough clothes, but now there was that banquet. ‘Formal attire, at minimum.’ What on earth did that mean? Vera felt lost. When Cissi offered to help her, she accepted gratefully and went over to Cissi’s apartment on a Thursday morning.

Vera looked out through the bus window at the people out in the fall sunshine. It was windy, and on the long, curved pedestrian bridge she saw a woman in a beret lose her balance as she pushed her overloaded bike up the steep slope. She fell, along with the bike, her grocery bags, and everything. Two teenage boys in baggy-crotched jeans hurried forward to help her. The shorter one helped her up and out of the path of a middle-aged man with a briefcase and a knitted hat who was braking as he biked downhill. The tall one ran after three oranges that were playfully rolling away down the bridge. Vera smiled. She had retreated home to Västerbotten because she hadn’t felt that she had anywhere else to go. Now she realized that if you had doubts about your faith in humanity, this was a place where you just might get it back.

Cissi lived in an attic apartment just east of downtown. Vera had to climb all the steps with her healthy right leg, stamping like a child learning to use the stairs. Three flights up in the old wooden house there was a large studio apartment with dormer windows and mismatched furniture, spiced with a new-age aesthetic. When Vera saw the batik throw and the waterfall with the rotating stone, she felt like the only thing missing was the scent of incense. Otherwise, books, clothes and shoes dominated the apartment. It was messy and cozy, both foreign and homely at the same time. Next to one of the windows there was an old-fashioned make-up table with a mirror and, in Vera’s eyes, an unbelievable amount of cosmetics.

Cissi offered her Ayurvedic tea and homemade cookies, and they commented on the sweeping advice that they got from their teabags. They said that if nothing else worked out then they could get work coming up with words of wisdom for teabags.

‘Live and let live,’ said Vera.

‘Dare more than you dare,’ suggested Cissi.

Cissi studied Vera in the light coming in through the window and got up suddenly.

‘You have to be “fall”, with that skin and your warm, green eyes! You can have this; it’s way too dark for me. Classic shopping mistake.’ Cissi had fetched the hair-coloring kit from her bathroom and put it in front of Vera.

‘Fall?’ Vera thought she had heard incorrectly, but Cissi explained that she was sure that people were right for certain colors, and that colors – and thus even the people suited to them – were divided into groups named after the seasons. Cissi started talking about the debate in color-analysis circles about whether you could be a blend of color groups, and if so how the colors were blended.

Vera smiled at her friend’s complicated theories and let Cissi convince her. She already had brown hair. According to Cissi, the toning would just ‘make your hair shinier and give it little chestnut highlights,’ and it warmed Vera that Cissi was so generous and positive. Sleep, eat, work and study was all she had done for the past few months, and now she felt like it would be good for her work on the welfare project if she fixed herself up a bit. She used to do it, after all. Maybe it was time for the old Vera to make a comeback?

‘Everything in life has pluses and minuses,’ said Cissi philosophically.

Yes, maybe so… Vera thought about Saturday.

‘Can I take out your braid?’

Vera nodded. Her host loosened the hair-tie carefully and freed Vera’s hair. She began to lift and pick at it as she continued:

‘And the trick is to do something about, or downplay, the negative and emphasize the positive.’

But if you can’t do anything about the negative? Saturday’s failure: it hadn’t been so easy then. It hadn’t been a matter of ‘downplaying’ things.

Now Cissi let go of her hair and looked worriedly at Vera.

‘Hey – what is it?’

Vera shrugged her shoulders and smothered a sob.

‘Was it something I said?’

Vera writhed as if in physical pain. ‘No… it isn’t your fault, it’s just that… If it doesn’t work, what then?’

‘If what doesn’t work?’ Cissi sat down on a stool in front of Vera. ‘I would say that you have a lot we can build on, so when we’re done you’ll be…’ She stopped herself. ‘Ah… look even better, I mean.’

Vera shook her head again.

‘It’s my… husband.’ She had to make an effort to get the word out. ‘Adam. I was supposed to be with him in Stockholm this weekend, but I couldn’t stay. I just couldn’t. It felt completely wrong.’

Cissi looked at her sympathetically. ‘You couldn’t bring yourself to stay?’

‘No. First there was a song on the bus that made me… I got off and threw up in a dog-waste bin. And then, in the apartment. I was going to stay, but it was like my body refused. I felt really bad.’ Vera took a shaky breath.

Cissi looked at her. ‘Okay.’

They sat quietly for a while before she continued.

‘But you made the best of the situation, didn’t you? Because, you know, it’s like Gunde says, “you can’t fool your body”.’

Vera smiled palely, remembering the iconic cross-country skiing world champion. She dried her face a little embarrassedly and nodded, ‘Yes, it’s like Gunde says.’

She laboriously twisted off her engagement and wedding rings and put them on the little label that was attached to the teabag. The label’s message encouraged her to be proud of who she was.

Cissi thought they might as well go ahead and do everything at once, so when Vera was sitting in Cissi’s tiny bathroom with her hair, now a worrisome orange, in a sticky heap under a plastic bag, Cissi lit a powerful lamp on the mirror. Vera had washed her face carefully and even put in her contact lenses in honor of the day. But Cissi wasn’t impressed. She pointed to places where Vera’s skin was dry and chapped and where Vera’s thick, dark eyebrows stuck out.

‘Oh, sorry. We’ve only just got to know each other and here I am saying things like that. Flat-out rude. It would be like you coming up to me and blurting out, “well, here’s a muffin-top!”’ Cissi grabbed the fat around her waist.

‘No, it’s okay,’ said Vera, smiling palely. ‘It’s like when my mother-in-law came to the apartment. She cleared off the whole kitchen counter and pointed out all the stains. I actually told her that a lot of daughters-in-law would be offended, but not me. In the first place, it was mostly Adam who did the dishes. But even if I had lived there alone…’ Vera shrugged her shoulders, ‘I’m not interested in competing for “cleanest kitchen counter”. It would be another thing if we were going to operate on it.’

‘Okay. But now you’re taking… a break from Adam?’

Vera nodded and looked at the light indentation that the rings had left in her finger after years of wearing them. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’

Cissi went out to the little table where they had sat drinking tea. She came back with Vera’s rings and placed them carefully in her lap.

‘Don’t forget them. You know, you can’t dump him on me,’ she tried to joke, but went on quickly: ‘Uh, so the mother-in-law cleared the counter. What did she do after that?’

‘She got cracking with the steel wool. And I guess that’s what you feel like doing too?’ Vera asked, dutifully forcing her rings back on.

Vera was surprised at the amount of work Cissi put into the renovation project. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a big sister. They took a break for lunch and then Vera scrubbed the bathtub to get rid of all traces of orange hair dye. Otherwise, it was just simple, goal-focused work, and after four hours in Cissi’s little apartment – after Cissi had curled Vera’s now chestnut-colored hair and made up her face – it was time to go into town and get kitted out for the banquet.

‘Formal attire means long dresses for women.’

‘So what does “formal attire, at a minimum” mean, then?’ wondered Vera.

‘A gorgeous long dress!’ Cissi took a draped, gold-colored creation out of her full closet. ‘This is what I’m wearing.’

Vera glanced at herself in the mirror on the way out. She saw her usual jeans and her favorite sweater, but what was above the beige jacket felt foreign. She struggled with a desire to go back in, wipe off half the make-up, and put her look-at-me hair in a ponytail – that’s what the old Vera would do. But Cissi was already halfway down the stairs. This isn’t even my kind of thing. I hope I don’t see anybody I know, thought Vera as she shut the door behind her.

Cissi knew Lovisa, who managed Formal Clothes on Norrland Street. When Vera had tried on everything that was left in stock in size 8, there were only two dresses that were remotely possible. One of them was a violet-blue fluffy chiffon and the other was a rust-red silk dress with cap sleeves and hand-embroidered copper pearls on the bodice. Vera didn’t like the violet one; it was too much like a wedding dress. When Lovisa suggested cream-colored evening gloves to go with the red dress, Cissi thought that decided it. It was true that Vera was usually as shy as a wallflower, but if, for once, she was going to a banquet, why not show off her fantastic figure in the red dress? And it was a perfect color for her as well.

Fantastic figure? Vera shook her head and showed Cissi how the dress was too big across the bust.

‘No, that, that’s your…’ Cissi seemed to be searching for a word that was not too critical, and she lowered her voice, ‘nonexistent bra’s fault. We should have done that first – found proper underwear…’ Cissi turned to Lovisa.

‘Can we borrow it for a while today and check to make sure it’s right? You probably won’t need to make any alterations; the length is just right and it fits perfectly at the waist! What does it cost to hire it for the weekend for the banquet if she pays now and takes it without any alterations?’

Then Cissi’s cellphone rang; it was an indignant guy on the other end. Cissi waved at Vera to finish up the deal and she walked away towards the bridesmaids’ dresses as she talked into the telephone: she didn’t have time to come right now, but yes, she was downtown. Sure, they could meet if he wanted.

‘Was that your boyfriend?’ Vera wondered, as a sales assistant carefully wrapped up the red dress with the copper pearls.

‘Huh? No! God, no! That was just Freddie, my little cousin. He might show up later. But he’s okay for a 15-year-old.’

When they left the store with the party dress protected inside a large garment bag, Vera felt uncomfortable. She understood that the fortune she felt she had paid to rent the dress was actually a bargain price because of Cissi’s friendship with Lovisa, and it was a relief that the banquet problem was now solved. But if she had felt dressed up before, now it was full masquerade.

Vera didn’t have very much money left, so the miracle bra that was needed would have to be found at the big, low-price chainstore at the city mall. Cissi guessed that it would take a while, so she used the opportunity to try on clothes too. After about 20 minutes, when she still hadn’t found a single bra that fitted, Vera began to feel downhearted. Cissi came back with her arms full of clothes. She hung most of them over the door of the changing room next to Vera’s, but draped a few things over Vera’s door as well.

‘I couldn’t help myself. Try these on, I think you… What’s wrong?’ Cissi broke off when she saw Vera’s sad eyes.

‘Nothing fits.’ Vera let her arms fall to her sides and shyly revealed the bra she had tried on. Cissi studied Vera and the dozen alternatives that were hanging in the changing room.

‘Excuse me, is it okay if I…?’ Cissi fiddled with the shoulder strap and the strap across Vera’s back.

‘But, Vera,’ she said reading the label, ‘34A – are you sure about this? I think it looks too big. You have it fastened on the hooks farthest in and it’s still loose.’

‘A is the smallest they have,’ said Vera with a small voice.

‘Yes, yes, but it’s here that it’s too big!’ Cissi pulled the strap away from Vera’s back demonstratively.

Cissi went out to the underwear display and came back with several new bras. ‘I read somewhere that over half of Swedish women wear bras that are the wrong size. You should have 32B, or maybe even 30C; try these!’

‘But isn’t B for… well… a normal-sized bust?’ Vera didn’t take the garments that Cissi held out to her.

‘Yes, and C is large – for you. Geez! 32 or 34 inches around the body! You are slim enough for several people! You could easily share a little with me,’ said Cissi and smiled kindly.

‘Yeah, so shouldn’t I have 32A?’

Cissi’s phone rang again. ‘Nah, try these on; you’ll see.’

Cissi went out and answered the phone. Vera heard her describe where they were.

Cissi was right. These fitted much better. But most of the ones she had chosen were generously padded models that Cissi said were designed to ‘highlight her charms’.

What a strange expression, thought Vera. Who is this highlighting supposed to charm? A brief thought in Adam’s direction pained her. It seemed like an impossibility. Even when she stretched herself far beyond her comfort zone.

I don’t like surprises!

She broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly she felt how much her knee ached and how tired she was. She sat down and rested a while, observing the stranger looking at her from the mirror. Vera closed her eyes and waited for the pain and nausea to subside.

‘It was Linus. Stupid asshole!’ a guy just outside the changing room said glumly. Vera started. Who is he talking to? He carried on complaining.

‘The teacher went, like, nuts, and now everybody has to write a whole fucking essay about love!’

‘Well, if you call somebody a whore, it’s good that the teacher reacts. I think what he did was exactly right!’ It was Cissi; she had come back with more clothes. Vera realized that the young guy with her must be cousin Freddie. He continued indignantly.

‘But, honestly! Otherwise – no class trip! And there’s no reliable stuff about love that you can pinch from the internet either! I checked – nothing!’

Vera sat and listened as Cissi tried to help Freddie, who was having a ‘mega crisis’, and a smile crept over her face. She and Cissi were so different, but there was still something that felt very familiar. Now Vera realized what it was. Cissi was a problem solver, just like she was. But Cissi had completely different knowledge and skills, and her repertoire of solutions seemed impressively broad. The least she could do was allow herself to be helped. Vera put on the long gloves and got up resolutely. She had guessed that the chocolate brown push-up bra would work but the question was: how would the rust red creation fit now?

The dress was surprisingly heavy with all the silk fabric and the embroidered pearls. Unexpected questions popped up in Vera’s head: Who sewed all these on? I wonder what her life is like? Vera managed to pour the silk over her head and down onto her body, and she got her arms into the dress. After trying unsuccessfully to bend her arms backwards and pull up the zipper, she realized that she needed help. She knocked lightly on the wall of Cissi’s changing room, went out through the swing doors, and turned her back to Cissi. Vera had glanced in the mirror and thought it looked promising; maybe it would work after all?

‘Well, look at you! Oh, hold up your hair!’ Cissi waited so that she wouldn’t catch the zipper in Vera’s chestnut-colored curls. Vera smiled and obeyed, and when Cissi pulled up the zipper she felt the dress settle perfectly across her hips and waist. When Cissi was finished Vera let down her hair and carefully twirled around once. Cissi smiled broadly and nodded in satisfaction, like a sculptress in front of her creation. Then Vera noticed that someone else was looking at her, and she looked in that direction.

At first he looked like an anonymous catalogue model in his relaxed dressiness: shirt hanging out, blazer, long striped scarf and a cap pulled down low over his forehead. After a second, though she realized that it was Peter Stavenius. The weirdest thing was the way he was looking at her. She had wondered about her neighbor sometimes, what he really did to conquer so many hearts. Now she was seeing it with her own eyes.

He looked at her like she was the only person in the whole world, and as if he really liked her. Well, ‘liked her’ was too weak. He looked like he had been waiting for her his whole life and now stood there, completely attentive, ready to do anything for her. God, he’s a good actor!, she thought, impressed despite herself, caught in the confused locking of their eyes. But why are you looking at • • like that?

That was when she realized. He didn’t recognize her, because he had never seen – and even now wasn’t seeing – her. It was all the fakery that he was seeing, and he clearly appreciated it. The new hair color and the shiny Hollywood curls, the fake, painted eyelashes, the lip gloss, the rented dress, and, of course, the well-padded chocolate-brown bra. She had dressed up as a ‘pin-up chick’ and suddenly she was on Mr Sex Machine’s radar. She was suitable prey for the predator.

Then a pretty, dark-haired girl approached Peter with a corset provocatively pressed against her body, obviously flirty and intimate. Vera wasn’t surprised that she had never seen the girl before. The scene illustrated perfectly why Peter’s inappropriate gaze had caused her to have such unpleasant associations. Vera fled back into her changing room and let the swing doors hide her blush of indignation. Safely alone again, she sat down and tried to calm her racing pulse with deep breaths.

‘That one!’ Cissi said, sticking her head into Vera’s changing room. Vera hopped nervously up off the little stool. Shhh, she wanted to say.

‘Ooh la la!’ emphasized Cissi and lifted her arched eyebrows suggestively.

Don’t you recognize Peter? ‘Do you think so?’ asked Vera and tried to look relaxed.

‘Yes! What a heartbreaker!’ said Cissi with conviction.

Vera grimly took off the formal gloves, no longer able to hide what she felt in her heart.

‘Right. Exactly. And that’s nothing worth betting on. It’s really nothing worth having.’

Cissi stared uncomprehendingly at her. ‘What? A girl needs it sometimes, right? It does the trick. Of course you should buy it. No doubt about it!’