Читать книгу Integrity - Anna Borgeryd - Страница 20

13

Jujutsu belongs to the Japanese martial arts family of budo. Ju is translated as soft and responsive, while jutsu means method or technique. The name communicates that it is the art of defeating an opponent using as little physical strength as possible.

Peter’s first book about his martial art

Peter’s eyes had been drawn like a magnet to the reddish brown curls, and to his joy he realized that it actually was the girl from the changing room who was sitting on the bus he climbed onto for the ride home. She was real and she was travelling east on the number 8 bus, just like he was, at the same time! He sat tensely, wondering why she looked so familiar. Had they met when they were out somewhere? He thought that he ought to find out her name. He didn’t want to lose her again, not without knowing something about her.

But then strange things started happening.

The first was that she sat next to Cissi, the hippie lady from the department. Maybe he had seen her with Cissi? But that didn’t feel right. They were talking. He sat diagonally behind them and strained to hear what they were saying. It was then he realized that the voice he had recognized from the left-hand changing room had been Cissi’s. She’s a friend of Cissi! Well then, he could just ask Cissi who she was and needn’t worry about losing her. Cissi said, ‘See you,’ and got up. When she moved to the back of the bus to get off, Peter hurriedly looked away, out through the window, as if he didn’t want her to see him. Afterwards he wondered why he had done so.

Then things got even stranger. As soon as the bus started moving again a teenage boy slunk forward and sat down next to her. Peter recognized him. It was the kid with the jeans and the big unruly hair who had been waiting outside the changing rooms. Peter considered for a brief moment, looked around in embarrassment, and moved lithely and quietly across the aisle to the boy’s now empty seat, only two seats behind her. He listened tensely.

‘You know, she brings up sex all the time. That’s not what it’s supposed to be about!’ the boy complained.

‘Well then all you need to do is explain that to her.’

She sounds kind, Peter thought affectionately and a strange certainty filled him.

‘I’m sure she’ll help you,’ she continued.

‘Yeah, but I think you can help better. You’re like, married and everything!’

She’s married! His heart sank like a stone – he hadn’t thought of that. She might actually be happily married, faithful and forever unavailable.

She looked out of the window, but the youngster looked pleadingly at her, ‘please?’

Peter realized with some discomfort that he himself might not have been fully informed about the ages of all the girls he’d picked up in the city, but none of them had been that young, had they?

‘There’s no rush. As long as it’s, like, before the class trip,’ the teenager continued.

‘When’s that, then?’

‘In the spring.’

‘I’m really not the right person,’ she said, and Peter felt relieved.

Her curls spilled between the seats when she turned her head and studied the boy; she shook her head a little, and Peter got the sense that she was amused.

‘Alright,’ she said finally.

Hah, so much for being faithful. If you’re going to help guys hungry for love, the least you can do is stick to ones your own age, thought Peter helplessly.

The kid looked satisfied under his giant hair: ‘Awesome! I’ll, like, come over some time. I’ll check with Cissi about where you live and stuff.’

The kid got up and moved to a seat on the other side of the bus, the one Peter had been sitting in before. He put on his headphones and turned the music on. I’m Mister Lovva-Lovva, bragged Shaggy so loudly that it was audible to everyone on the bus.

Tinnitus is what you are going to get, Mister Lovva-Lovva, thought Peter sourly, again feeling like he was not at all himself. But there was something familiar in that voice – the feeling that he had heard it before grew stronger. And how could he be so strangely certain that she was kind? The truth crept up on him slowly. When she got off at his bus stop and he saw that she limped toward Stipend Street, he was certain. The woman from the changing room was the dull, grey girl on crutches – his wall-banging neighbor Vera Lund-something. Gren? Berg? Kvist?

A cold fall wind made him shiver, and he put up the collar of his tweed blazer. He waited a while to give her more of a head start. He couldn’t bring himself to catch up and talk to her. Embarrassment paralyzed him.

Of course, he had never before seen her in anything other than ugly old jogging clothes with a fuzzy braid down her back. Yet from the moment he had seen the beauty in the red dress, he had felt like he recognized her. But how could he not have seen that it was the same person? And what should he do now? When Vera opened the door to the dorm with her key, Peter heard a cheerful voice ring out in the stairwell:

‘Looking good today, luv!’

Peter’s steps felt heavy on the stairs, like someone who was hopelessly far behind. But Matt had not seen her radiantly smiling in that dress; he had just seen her in her normal gear on her way to her room.

That’s different, a completely different thing, he said in his own defense.

Vera’s door was closed when he came into the hallway. He was glad that he could slip into his room unseen. Through the wall he heard music: it was loud and hard with distorted guitars. Vera often listened to music, but this was the first time he had heard her listening to hard rock. She must be in a strange mood. Peter’s state of mind improved. Maybe she had been as affected by the eye contact as he had? And equally self-conscious about how to take some kind of reasonable next step, given that it turned out that it was the two of them who had suddenly discovered each other, despite the fact that they had been living wall-to-wall all fall? Although, of course, she had recognized him immediately; was that why she had looked so… surprised? The questions spun around in his mind as he lay on the bed with his hands behind his head and listened to Vera’s unusual choice of music. He lost track of time, and when he realized how late it was he had to grab a couple of sandwiches on his way to martial arts practice.

On the bus down to the clubhouse Peter realized that there were both advantages and disadvantages to the fact that it was Vera. An advantage was that although she certainly was married, her lawfully wedded husband was nowhere in sight. He realized that he had never seen any trace of a husband. Doesn’t that suggest it’s not the world’s best marriage? Another advantage was that Peter had plenty of opportunities to see her; they practically lived together!

The disadvantages were, of course, harder to think about. She hadn’t made any secret of the fact that she didn’t like him, and he hadn’t exactly given her any good reasons to do so. He got that. He realized suddenly that he had never seen her dimples before she was standing there outside the changing room, because he had never seen her happy before!

The bus stopped at the first stop just west of downtown and Peter got off, determined to do whatever it took to see more of those dimples. It happened to be one of his absolute specialties: when he wanted to, he seldom failed to make women happy.

The workout was gruelling, and not only because he had not eaten enough. After a short warm-up they went straight on to randori and Peter was paired with a new guy from southern Sweden who had to be 15 kilos heavier than he was. He was good and Peter had to concentrate fully in order to avoid a severe beating. When he managed to get Vera completely out of his head and began to learn the big newcomer’s style, he managed to bring him to the floor several times.

After practice he was completely exhausted. His arms hung at his sides, aching and almost unusable, and he felt satisfied as he got into the shower. He still had it, the talent to concentrate fully and take in the present, to softly feel where his opponent was going, to follow along in his opponent’s direction, but then to apply his own power in exactly the right way to steer things to where he wanted them. His thoughts returned all too easily to the memory of Vera smiling in the red dress, and it spread a lovely sweetness through his body. Peter hurriedly dried off and got dressed.

He was hungry. Hungry in so many ways. But something unfamiliar held him back. In any other case he would have asked her directly, but now he opted for Cissi instead.

The next day he found Cecilia Åström in her office at the department. He started with a little small talk about the summer course and how nice he thought it was that Vera had wound up in his dorm – he knew that it would have been a big lie only two days ago, but now it was an astonishing truth – before he got to the heart of the matter.

‘By the way, I heard that Vera was going to some…’ He thought about the occasion on which Vera might wear the red dress and guessed, ‘ball?’

‘Uh-huh, yeah…’ answered Cissi, focusing on her computer screen. ‘You know, the university’s annual fall festival, the fall banquet.’

Peter was surprised. ‘But ordinary introductory-level students never go to that, do they?’

Cissi turned toward him. ‘Who said Vera is ordinary?’

‘But, I mean… how did she get an invitation? Is some relative being awarded a doctorate?’

‘We’re all going. She’s part of our…’ Cissi turned back towards her computer screen, ‘You know… Sturesson’s… Future Wealth and Welfare project.’

‘Oh, damn, I’m part of that too,’ Peter heard himself say.

‘Really?’ Cissi tucked her red hair behind her ear as she turned back towards him with surprise. ‘Are you the advanced level student? I thought it was Tomas Lern?’

Tomas Lern – top of the class. The light blond go-getter and math genius, who was aiming at a lucrative career in finance. Wooden and awkward, but the only one in class who got the right answer on the test question about derivative construction. Probably because he had already studied four semesters of applied physics. Or because he was simply devilishly smart, Peter admitted to himself.

‘Tomas? Really?’ Peter shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ll check with Sturesson. Maybe I misunderstood something.’

He was lucky, because Sturesson was in his office, and the red light outside was not on. Peter knocked on the door and boldly entered: ‘Excuse me, do you have a minute?’

The greying man stroked his goatee. ‘Peter. Absolutely! Take a seat.’

‘I thought I would let you know that I have checked into my… workload at Great Escape during the fall. Turns out, it is not going to be too much. Basically just board meetings, and there are only four per year.’ Peter smiled brightly from the visitor’s chair.

‘Yes?’ said Sturesson, looking at a loss.

‘Yes, so I would like to accept your offer on Future Wealth and Welfare.’

Åke Sturesson’s eyebrows travelled upward and he sighed deeply. ‘Really? You tell me this now? It’s just that… it is just too late for that.’

Peter’s heart beat hard, but his voice sounded normal and relaxed.

‘Oh? Pity. But I should offer congratulations. You have already got a lot of work done?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that,’ admitted the Professor. ‘But I have had time to talk to someone else. Lern is going to do it.’

‘Oh, Tomas Lern? Yes, he and I have taken all of our economics courses together. Excellent choice,’ said Peter and nodded, while in his head he thought, what was it that Sturesson said he wanted? ‘He is a really good mathematician. And if he has said yes, and you are completely satisfied, then there is no reason to change your mind. You know that he studied applied physics to begin with? You will get really advanced derivative calculations in his cha…’

‘He studied applied physics first?’ interrupted Sturesson with a worried frown.

‘Yes, and imagine what a good springboard it will be for him to have published his formulas in the project publications. One of the big banks will hire him immediately.’

Åke Sturesson rubbed his beard anxiously, stretched for a binder on a shelf and started looking through it. ‘Yes, of course. But in the application we promised a more popular science approach. And we are going to present it at a big press conference in May. I need to ask him…’

‘Yes, ask him what he does best. I think that’s a good move,’ said Peter, suspecting that victory was almost his. ‘And be sure to tell him that he gets to take part in a press conference in the spring.’

Knowing Tomas, he would rush to turn down the position. I’m doing you a favor, buddy.

‘Otherwise, are you willing to jump on board and write something more accessible?’

‘Me? Absolutely!’