Studio Sex - Studio Sex Part 28
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Studio Sex Part 28

The big man got to his feet and walked restlessly over to the window. The rain was like a gray screen outside, hiding the view over the water.

The press secretary stopped him. "You shouldn't be standing there brooding in full view of everyone in the street. Pictures like that make a brilliant illustration of a government in crisis."

Vexed, the prime minister stopped himself. His bad temper grew even worse, and he abruptly turned to his foreign trade minister and barked, "How the hell could you be so damned stupid?"

Christer Lundgren didn't respond, just went on staring at the lead-gray sky from his place in the corner.

The prime minister moved closer to him. "Goddammit, you know we can't go interfering in the work of a government authority!"

The minister looked up at his superior. "Exactly. Neither the police or anybody else's."

The prime minister's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Don't you realize the predicament you've put us in? Do you recognize what the consequences of your actions will be?"

Christer Lundgren jumped to his feet and rushed up face-to-face with the prime minister and yelled, "I know exactly what I've done! I've fucking saved this goddamn party, that's what I've done!"

The press secretary stepped in. "We can't undo what's already been done," he said in a conciliatory tone. "We have to make the best of the situation. Going in and altering documents after the fact could end in disaster. We simply can't do that. I really don't think the journalists are capable of locating those receipts of yours." He circled the two ministers. "The most important thing is to cooperate with the police without giving them too much information."

In a gesture of conciliation, he put a hand on the shoulder of the minister for foreign trade. "Christer, it all depends on you now."

The minister shrugged off the hand. "I'm a murder suspect," he said in a strained voice.

"Yes, it's ironic," the press secretary said. "The death business is your responsibility in the cabinet. As far as arms sales are concerned. I suppose it wasn't meant literally."

It was evening by the time she woke up. Sven was sitting next to her on the bed, watching her.

"Welcome home," he said, and smiled.

She returned the smile. She was thirsty and had a headache.

"You sound as if I've been gone for ages."

"It feels like it," he said.

She pushed away the bedcover and got out of bed, feeling dizzy and queasy. "I don't feel well," she mumbled.

She staggered out to the bathroom and took a Tylenol. She opened the bathroom window to get some air. The rain had eased off but not stopped completely.

Sven came and stood in the doorway. "Shall we go and get a pizza?"

She swallowed. "I'm not really hungry."

"You've got to eat something. Look at you, you've gotten so thin."

"I've been busy." She walked past him and into the hallway.

He followed her out to the kitchen. "I heard they gave you a hard time on the radio."

She poured herself a glass of water. "Have you started listening to the current affairs program with debate and analysis?" she said tartly.

"No. Ingela told me."

She paused with the glass next to her mouth. "The sperm bucket?" she said with surprise. "Are you seeing her?"

He got angry. "That's such a mean old nickname. She hates it."

Annika smiled. "It was you who came up with it."

He grinned. "Yeah, right." He chuckled.

Annika drank the water in big gulps, and he came up to her and hugged her from behind.

"I'm cold. I've got to put some clothes on." She wriggled free.

Sven kissed her. "Sure. I'll call Maestro in the meantime."

Annika went into the bedroom and opened her closet. The clothes she'd left here were creased and smelled musty. She heard Sven call the local pizzeria and order two quattro stagioni. He knew she didn't eat mussels.

"You'll stay here now, won't you?" he called out to her after hanging up.

She searched through her clothes. "Why do you think that? My contract lasts until the fourteenth of August. I've got a week and a half left."

He leaned against the doorpost. "Do they still want you, though, the way you were disgraced like that?"

Her cheeks were burning. She rummaged deeper inside the closet. "The paper doesn't give a damn about what they say in a ridiculous radio program like that."

He came up to her and hugged her again. "I don't care what they say about you," he whispered. "To me you'll always be the best, even though all the others say you're worthless."

She pulled on a pair of old jeans that were too big for her now and an old sweater.

Sven shook his head disapprovingly. "Do you have to look like that? Haven't you got a dress?"

She closed the door of the closet. "How long will the pizzas be?"

"I mean it. Put something else on."

Annika stopped, breathed. "Come on," she begged him. "I'm hungry. The pizzas will get cold."

Eighteen Years, Ten Months, and Six Days I long to return to the light and bright times. When days floated into shadowy nights like a spirit: clean, clear, fragrant, and soft. Time was a hole, weightless. The elation, the first touch, the wind, the light, and the feeling of absolute perfection. More than anything else in the world I want that moment to return.

His darkness blocks out the horizon. It isn't easy to navigate in the dark. The circle is round and evil. I bring out in him the darkness that cloaks our love in a fog. My steps grow unsteady and I stumble on our path. His patience gives out. I pay the price.

But we are the most important thing there is to each other.

Monday 6 August The water boiled over and then, pouring it into the filter, she spilled some and scalded herself.

"Shit!" she cried out, jamming her burned finger into her mouth.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

A drowsy Patricia was standing in the doorway to the maid's room, dressed in T-shirt and panties, her hair tousled.

Annika was immediately gripped by a pang of guilt. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm really sorry."

"What's the matter? Did something happen?"

Annika turned around and poured the rest of the water on the coffee. "My job's hanging by a thread. Do you want some coffee, or are you going back to bed?"

Patricia rubbed her eyes. "I'm off tonight. I'd love a cup."

She put on a pair of shorts and disappeared into the stairwell to go to the bathroom. Annika quickly blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She took out a couple of slices of bread from the freezer, put them in the toaster, and put cheese and marmalade and margarine on the table. She heard Patricia come back in and close the front door.

"What happened?"

Patricia was staring at Annika's legs, and Annika herself looked down at them.

"I was chased by a lynch mob last Thursday. They almost set fire to the car as we were driving away."

Patricia gaped. "Jesus, sounds like a James Bond movie!"

Annika laughed. The toaster clicked and threw the slices up in an arc, and as they caught one each, Patricia laughed too.

They sat down at the kitchen table and made breakfast. Annika missed the morning paper. She looked out the window; the rain was pattering on the windowsill.

"So how was the countryside?"

Annika let out a sigh. "Just what you'd expect in this weather. I spent Friday night with Sven, my boyfriend, and then I went to my grandmother's. She's got a cottage that's part of Harpsund. She can rent it for as long as she likes, as she was the housekeeper there for thirty-seven years."

"What's Harpsund?"

Annika poured the coffee. "It's an estate between Flen and Halleforsnas. A man called Hjalmar Wicander donated it to the government when he died in 1952. The condition was that the prime minister could use it as a recreational residence."

"What's a recrea... residence?"

"It's a summerhouse but it has reception rooms." Annika smiled. "Harpsund has been a big hit among prime ministers, especially the present one. He's from Sormland and most of his family still lives there. I met him there on Midsummer Eve a couple of years ago."

Patricia was impressed. "You've been there?"

"I often went with Grandma when I was a kid."

They ate in silence.

"Are you working today?" Patricia asked.

Annika nodded.

"You've got a really hard job, don't you?" Patricia said. "And dangerous- if there are people trying to set fire to you."

Annika gave a lopsided smile. "Someone set fire to your workplace too."

"That wasn't personal."

Annika sighed. "Still, I wish I could stay."

"Why do you have to go in?"

"My contract ends next week. Only one or two of the summer freelancers will get to go on working at the paper."

"Couldn't you be one of them? You've written a lot."

Annika shook her head. "They've got a recruitment meeting with the union tomorrow, and after that we'll find out who gets to stay. What are you doing today?"

Patricia's gaze turned inward and disappeared out in the rain. "I'm going to think about Josefin. I'm going to speak to the spirits and look for her on the other side. When I make contact with her, I'm going to ask her who did it."

Anne Snapphane was at her desk when Annika walked into the newsroom.

"So you're alive," Annika established.

"Barely. It's been a goddamn awful weekend. The bosses have been completely nuts. Any assignments the news editor has handed out during the day, the night editor has trashed at night. I've had five stories spiked."

Annika dropped down at her desk. The dragon had left behind a battlefield of empty coffee mugs, wire copy, and used Kleenex tissues.

"I did think twice before I came in," Annika said. "Now I know why."

Anne began to laugh. Annika swept everything on the desk, including five notepads, two books, and three mugs marked Mariana, into the wastebasket. "Take that, you upper-class bitch."

Anne laughed so hard she fell off her chair.

"It wasn't that funny, was it?"Annika said.

Anne sat up again and tried to stop laughing. "No, it wasn't that funny," she said, chuckling. "It won't take much to make me laugh today. I know that I'm going to be getting out of here."

Annika stared at her. "You've got a job? Where?"

"With a TV production company in Hammarby Dock. I'll be researcher on a cable-station talk show aimed at women. It starts in about five weeks. It could be really trashy. I'm really looking forward to it."

"What if you get a job here?"

"Christ knows if I want to. Besides, the TV job is a permanent post."

"Congratulations." Annika walked around the desk to give her friend a hug. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Hey, could you dykes spare a minute to do some work?"

Spike was back in the news editor's chair.