Part 3 (1/2)

It is cringingly awful. Why, Malene asks herself, do I know so little about this woman? Especially since I imagined that we share so much. I mustve been chatting away on the phone without asking the right questions, without listening properly.

Charlotte snickers when she admits that she can take time off work without any questions being asked. Like today. Meanwhile, Malene has taken in other little things about this room that looks as if it is shared by a young woman and her grandmother. Woolen joint bandages lie neatly rolled up within reach, as does a collection of pop CDs. Charlotte is a couple years younger than Malene, but she has suffered from arthritis for eight years compared with Malenes six.

Still speaking as vivaciously as ever, Charlotte is describing AYAPs social calendar the parties and seminars. The members.h.i.+p has such a great time together on their weekend jaunts, when they make their aching bodies play about in hotel gardens during light summer nights. Then she asks about Rasmus and Malene wonders how much she should tell.

At this point Charlotte speaks in a flatter tone, clearly self-conscious about not having a boyfriend. They have talked about it on the phone, but Malene has always a.s.sumed that its just a matter of time before Charlotte finds someone. It cant be more serious than that. Now, watching her, Malene can see how ill she is. Maybe Charlotte will never find anyone.

Malene realizes that she has just come out with some tired old cliche to the effect that there is a Mr. or Miss Right for everyone.

Charlotte puts on a happy face and straightens up. Thats true, I know. And while Im on the lookout, I wont waste my time complaining. She dunks a cake delicately in her coffee.

Thoughts fly into Malenes head. How do they manage, the ones who are seriously disabled? How do they endure it all without jumping off a bridge? Charlotte will never get a man and she knows it. Sh.e.l.l never escape this social housing h.e.l.lhole. And how would I cope? I could never be so happy with so little.

Charlotte in the flesh is no different from the person who wrote the e-mails. Its just that finding her here, among her cus.h.i.+ons and special aids, changes Malenes perception of her. For Malene, this realization is all the harder to take because of the worsening situation between her and Rasmus. As they put it in Seinfeld: Breaking up is like knocking over a c.o.ke machine. You cant do it in one push; youve got to rock it back and forth a few times. Malene has noticed that Rasmus is definitely rocking.

Soon it will be my turn, she thinks. I will smile mechanically as I tell people that Rasmus and I arent together anymore. Never mind, Ill say, there are so many fun things to do when youre single.

She gets up, excuses herself, and goes to the bathroom. Inside, she weeps noiselessly among all the special bath aids and handles that Charlotte requires in order to be able to wash on her own. Or does someone come in to help her? Will Malenes own bathroom look like this in a few years?

Malene takes her time. She pinches some of Charlottes foundation to pat into the skin under her eyes. Better that than have to explain to Charlotte that just being with her makes Malene want to cry.

She takes a few deep breaths and opens the door. Baffled, she recognizes the smell even before she sees Charlotte. This sweetish, resinous scent is just about the last thing she expected. Charlotte is sitting in her big armchair, puffing vigorously on a large joint.

Oh good, there you are. I was worried. Thought I might have to blow some smoke under the door to tempt you to come out.

Malene has listened to other arthritic people speaking about the advantages of smoking hash. Drinking wine often causes stiffening and pain, and can react unpredictably with medicines. She sits back in the soft armchair and starts to munch on a little chocolate-dipped cake. Might be just as well to leap into the world of the disabled here and now, she thinks.

Charlotte hands her the joint. The longer you hold the smoke in your lungs, the more you get out of it. Dont even think of coughing!

Thanks. Lots of my friends used to smoke. Ive tried it too. Trouble was, it had no effect on me.

Malene inhales heartily. That should be enough to get me stoned, she thinks.

But, as before, smoking pot seems to do nothing for her. They light another joint a little later and she tries again. Still nothing, except for the sweating, and thats mostly due to the overheated room.

It isnt until she stands up to leave that she finally notices her head feels distinctly strange.

They embrace.

Lovely to meet you at last!

Yes, it really was. Ill e-mail you from the office tomorrow.

Maybe Ill mail you sooner. While youre on the train back home.

One more hug.

There isnt much waiting for her in Copenhagen: when a friend has been as supportive as Iben, you cant reasonably expect more, like her remembering to e-mail you from Nairobi. Not even if youve written to tell her that you are worried about your relations.h.i.+p with the man in your life.

Malenes hands and feet are tingling. Any moment now she might tip over into the unknown. Collapse in unstoppable laughter, perhaps.

If I hadnt gone out of my way to fix Iben up in that job, it wouldve been me who went to Africa. And then I would have had all the exciting new experiences and made all those international contacts.

Malene is crying in the restroom on the train. The cannabis has. .h.i.t home and the air is bubbling up against her face. The dingy white plastic surfaces seem to float upward, the filthy gray floor too, followed by metal handles, and then signs, smells, sounds. Everything is rus.h.i.+ng up, up, even faster, past the electrical cables. Or perhaps its the other way around. Inside the rumbling of the train, Malene is falling.

chapter 5.

on the Monday after Sophies party, Malene is at her desk in the office, working on the text for three posters that will feature stories about Danish people helping Jews to escape during the Second World War. The subtext is that people should have the courage to confront any persecution of a minority, but the fact that thousands of Danes risked their lives and saved more than ninety percent of Denmarks Jews gives yet another dimension to Malenes project.

Gunnar once expounded on the subject while he and Malene nibbled olives, waiting for a menu.

The ma.s.s rescue of Jews strengthened the sense of national self-satisfaction. All nation-states hang on to beliefs like This country of ours is special and Were the decent ones. The Danes simply indulge in this kind of thing more than most and they feel justified. History tells us that were without evil, and so without guilt.

Malene doesnt want her exhibition to bolster this national lack of insight. And, as usual, Iben is full of suggestions. Malene considers countering with Gunnars quote but decides against it.

She leans forward in her ergonomic chair, bought to alleviate the pain from her arthritis, and tries to concentrate on what she is writing. Bispebjerg Hospital had registered two hundred Jews as patients under false, non-Jewish names when the Germans surrounded the hospital She knows perfectly well that she mustnt allow herself to fret about Iben and Gunnar.

Iben is actually in top form today. Normally Malene is glad to have her back in the office the atmosphere was much duller while she was away in Kenya. At first Malene had worried about her brainy friend coming to work at the Center. For one thing, with only five colleagues, it could have been slightly claustrophobic. Also, supporting Ibens job application could have ruined the friends.h.i.+p Malene had come to depend on so much.

The first things she had noticed about Iben when they met were her clear blue eyes and the sharp little crease between her eyebrows. In those days Ibens skin was paler and her manner more earnest. Still, it was easy to make her laugh, dissolving into the bubbling loud giggle that made her look so charming. Afterward she would compose herself quickly, ready to debate any issue seriously.

But Iben is also a perfectionist. Everything has to be well thought out, executed to perfection, one hundred percent. Anything less seems worthless to her. Apparently Iben needed therapy for panic attacks after her fathers death. Malene didnt know her then, but its always been obvious to her that Iben is fragile.

Probably no one but Malene knows that Iben cant stand having her head and body under water at the same time. Iben keeps her head dry when was.h.i.+ng her body and remains fully dressed when she washes her hair. That has to be a symptom of something or other.

They were all astonished to learn how Iben behaved during the hostage business. She would have wanted to do the right thing of course, but to act so dramatically well, that was unexpected. She said herself that she had been someone else in Kenya. Thats why Frederik called her Batgirl. He must have thought it was flattering to suggest that she had a secret ident.i.ty. But he had enough sensitivity to see how much Iben detested the idea and stopped his joking at once.

Two years ago, for all her doubts, Malene had felt she had to support Iben for the DCIG post. All the students of literature had hoped to land jobs as editors or book reviewers or journalists writing on the arts. Instead, and regardless of how brilliant they were, they received at best low-paid freelance commissions, supporting themselves with unemployment benefits. Decent public jobs were few and far between. As Iben scouted around, her lack of office experience turned out to be a major drawback. She would come back from the employment offices with gruesome tales of graduates who had been in the system for years. They were game for anything, but would-be employers labeled them overqualified.

You can spot them at once. Ten seconds is enough. These guys are broken, and no sensible boss would dream of employing them. And they know it too.

When the post as DCIG information officer was advertised, Iben didnt go for it. She didnt even mention it. Instead she applied for every other job with a whiff of desperation.

Malene knew the risks when she phoned Iben and urged her to apply. When we receive your application, Ill tell everyone how talented you are and what a hard worker you are. And Ill tell them how much I look forward to the pleasure of working with you.

Come on, they wont consider your best friend.

I wont tell them that. Ill say that we were students together and that I got to know you when we lived in the same dorm. And that I remember you were fantastically efficient and reliable. Thats only the truth.

Were not letting on that were close friends, then?

Well, no not close friends. But friendly.

I still wont get the job. Ill be up against thousands of more experienced people.

Ill brief you on exactly what you should say to the different board members in the final interview. Thatll help.