Erotic Refugees (13 page)

After that they had a quick
wander in the office section, lay on a few beds, nodded
appreciatively at the latest in LED lighting fixtures, and ended up
by one of the many cafés, mentally drained and physically weary.
With a nod they agreed on the need for coffee and a sandwich and
sat themselves down.

Eoin placed a sugar lump on his
spoon, lowered it into the coffee and removed it after a couple of
seconds. He deposited the un-melted half of the sugar on a napkin,
stirred the coffee and sipped it. Rob watched this ritual with
interest before draining his own coffee in a single noisy slurp. He
went off immediately to get some more.

Eoin watched Rob as he poured
the coffee and flirted with the girl at the till. Here he was
again, spending more time with this guy he'd not even known two
months ago. He was even going to Ikea with him, the Swedish
equivalent of getting engaged, but actually knew very little about
him. He realised that was his own fault for never asking, and had a
mental image of Alice wagging an accusing finger. So when Rob
returned he cleared his throat and presented his question.

“
So Rob, um … why are you
here?”

Rob looked around in surprise.
“Buying a bed?”

“
No, I mean, why are you
here at all, in Sweden?”

Rob opened his sandwich in
silence, removed half the cheese and the fat wedge of tomato, and
closed it up again. Eoin performed a similar ritual on his own
sandwich, evening out the lettuce, slicing up the tomato thinly,
arranging it between the ham and cheese and finally sprinkling
pepper along the whole thing.

“
I dunno,” Rob said. “I
came here on Erasmus about eight years back. I did my project and I
went home. But then I didn't quite finish uni and things were a bit
slack in Ireland so a guy I'd met on Erasmus invited me back. And I
decided, ye know, why not? So four years ago I came back and I got
a job.”

“
Not an erotic refugee
then? No woman involved?”

Rob shrugged as he bit off some
rubbery sandwich and began to chew. “Nah, not then. There was Hanna
for a while, but we broke up. After that I was just stayin' on to
finish things up before headin’ home. I mean, no point hanging
around without a reason, right? But it sort of never happened, so
I'm still here.”

Eoin nodded as he stirred his
coffee. He offered a silence for Rob to continue, or to pose a
question in return, but nothing was offered. Rob just sat there,
looking thoughtful as he tore a hole in his sandwich. They drifted
into a mutual silence.

As soon as the coffee was gone
they abandoned their partially eaten sandwiches and forged on
towards the distant exit. They passed curtains, carpets and frames
and finally arrived at the warehouse section where people were
diligently doing Ikea's work for them, pulling items from shelves
and stacking them on trolleys.

Rob located the aisle and shelf
he needed and tugged out a plastic-wrapped bed. (Not the one on
top, of course, as everybody knew you didn't take the one on top).
They manhandled it onto the trolley and moved off, now within sight
of the outside world.

They didn't get far because
coming towards them was a short girl with bleached blonde hair and
very blue eyes, wearing pointy blue boots. She put a heeled foot on
their trolley, pretending to stop it from moving, and nodded.

“
Hi there
Rob.”

Rob smiled. “Oh, hi Emilie.” He
took a clumsy step forward, gave her a clumsy hug—hugging was one
thing that didn't come natural to any Irishman—and stepped back to
look at her from a metre's distance.

Eoin was studying the both of
them and noticed that Emilie was a lot more pleased to see Rob that
Rob probably realised. He also found himself judging Emilie
immediately on her appearance, and not because of her shape, size,
colour or perceived political leanings, but because she had a face
piercing. And Eoin just didn't like face piercings.

“
So, yeah,” Rob said.
“What ye up to then?”

“
Not much. Bought a few
chairs.” She nodded to a trolley behind her. “And a
plant.”

Her gaze flicked to Eoin where
they lingered for a moment before returning to Rob. “Oh yeah,” Rob
said. “This is Eoin. Eoin, Emilie.”

Eoin shook her hand. Her nails
were long and painted blue and the ring in her eyebrow kept on
drawing his suspicious gaze. She turned back to Rob and the two of
them got chatting. Rob pushed his trolley towards the checkout,
Emilie pushed hers beside him and Eoin, suddenly on the outskirts
of things, had a sudden premonition of where all this was
leading.

“
That's a lot of stuff,
Emilie. Ye have a car, yeah?”

Emile shook her head. “I can
manage. I'll take a taxi from the tunnelbana.”

“
Well we have a car, we
can give ye a ride, no problem!”

Sure, Eoin thought, arranging a
ride for this lady was definitely not a problem for Rob. Rob's the
name and rides are definitely the game.

“
Really?” Emilie glanced
at Eoin, and nodded. “Yeah, sure, thanks, that would be
nifty.”

Nifty? Eoin wrinkled his nose.
Where had she learned her English to come up with a word like
nifty? In a sixties diner?

They checked out their items
and piled the small ones into the blue carry-home bags, which were
also good for fetching firewood, storing things you didn't really
care about in the basement, and hauling laundry to and from the
washing room. Then Rob and Emilie, still chatting about nothing
that mattered, led the way to the car. Eoin tagged along behind
them, wondering how an easy-going trip with Rob had suddenly turned
into Rob-meets-a-chick-and-well-you-know.

Rob started up the car as soon
as the doors were closed. They made it out of the car park and onto
the motorway after a few flamboyant swings. Eoin was squeezed into
the back seat with only the plant for company. He was not terribly
surprised when, after driving for a few minutes, Rob dropped a
casual question on him.

“
So I'll drop ye home
Eoin, alright? And we'll continue with that thing tomorrow,
yeah?”

“
Oh yeah,” Eoin said
flatly. “Sure.” He noticed Emilie throwing him a glance in the
rear-view mirror and felt once again his irrational hatred for her
eyebrow-ring and most of the rest of her.

They slipped in and out of
traffic, making good progress. The atmosphere in the car was
charged, and Eoin could feel that he was definitely the spare. The
sexual tension crackling between the other two could have easily
charged the car's battery.

Eoin stared out the window as
the Toyota drifted towards an exit ramp, and wondered what he'd end
up doing tonight. A glass of wine in the kitchen? A book in the
bath? Maybe a three-hour film and a Mars Bar? The choices were
endless, but all fairly rubbish.

Suddenly Rob swung the wheel to
the left in a move that wasn't exactly dangerous but still caused
the plant to slide into Eoin and poke its waxy leaves into his
face. Rob, ignoring an irritated beep or two from the cars behind,
moved them back onto the motorway.

“
Ye know what,” Rob said
carefully. “I'll take ye back first Emilie. I'll need some help
from Eoin to, um, put some things together. Alright?”

Emilie turned her head and
gazed out of the window. “Yeah, sure Rob,” she said, with no
particular feeling. “That's fine. Thanks for the help.”

It clearly wasn't fine, and
even Eoin could see they'd both been expecting something to happen.
But now it was all off, because Rob had simply decided not to, and
Eoin realised something huge had happened.

Rob has skipped an opportunity
for casual sex in order to keep a promise. He had actually put
somebody else before his own momentary pleasure. And Rob, driving
along with a slightly dazed look, seemed to understood that
too.

Eoin would never mention it, of
course, and Rob wouldn't either. That was just the way it worked.
And while it wasn't much of a selfless gesture Eoin guessed, from
what he knew of Rob, that for him it was the equivalent of donating
a Statue of Liberty, or cutting off an ear.

They dropped Emilie at her
place in Bandhagen and helped her to get her things upstairs. She
was quick to say goodbye and this time Rob clearly wasn't
expecting, and didn't receive, a hug. She closed the door a little
too hard, leaving both men standing in the hall, in the flickering
light of an old bulb, while the echo of the boom died away.

Rob however seemed impervious
to Emilie's opinion of him. He hummed as they descended the stairs
and, as they drove back to his place with a night of work before
them, Eoin found himself humming along.

Rob threw together an omelette
with peas, onions, and sliced sausage. They worked as they ate,
balancing the plates on their knees. Then they worked after they
ate and kept right on working until the birds outside had clocked
out and the sky was dark.

They stood around the kitchen
table with their eyes red and dry, like parents admiring a newborn
baby. Before them lay an A3 pad crammed with boxes and arrows and
tiny bullet lists. They knew what they'd need in the database, how
the icons might look, how the login and menus would work, and what
would keep users coming back for more. In fact, they had before
them the workings of the whole site.

“
You know,” said Eoin,
checking his watch. “It's getting on, maybe I should—”

“
Hey, no problem, ye can
stay here. I've got an extra bed now! And we'll get some more work
in. Come on Eoin, it's closer to yer job and
everything!”

Eoin was doubtful. He thought
about socks and underwear, about the deodorant he'd need to borrow,
and the room that had different noises and the breakfast that would
be all wrong. He had no toothbrush either and he wondered what his
colleagues would say when he showed up with the same clothes two
days running, and what Jenny would say, and what…

“
Alright,” he said
suddenly. “Sure. That sounds good.”

Rob grinned. He thrust a can of
medium-strength beer into Eoin's hands, and flipped the opener on
one for himself. He held his beer up and they banged them
together.

“
Damn fine work tonight!
So here's to gettin' bloody rich eventually!”

Eoin nodded and swallowed a few
foamy mouthfuls.

“
And why not. Bloody
rich, eventually!”

Chapter
15

“
Eoin, it's nothing.
Well, not much.” Alice paused and looked at Eoin as if she were
about to say something more. Then she shook her head and went on
chopping.

Eoin was watching her from his
perch on a high stool by her breakfast table. He was nervously
rotating a cup of weak Swedish tea between his fingers. This didn't
feel very good at all. In fact, it may well have been Bad Idea of
the Week, an accolade Eoin found himself handing out far too often
these days.

He had popped in at very short notice
as he'd an hour to kill before his date with Anja. He saw the
excuse of an imminent date as a good opportunity to request some
“help” from Alice, and to see how she was and, more specifically,
how they were. Not knowing what was going on between them put him
on edge, and the edge was not a place with which Eoin was
comfortable. This forced and weird conversation, however, was
starting to make him regret the whole thing.

“
Andy is just something
that happened around the time my marriage broke up.” Chop-chop as
the carrots slid into neat coins. “He wasn't the reason
but—”

“
You were seeing Andy
back then?” Eoin blurted out.

“
I said he wasn't the
reason.”

“
But,” Eoin started and
then found nothing to follow it with. Alice was flustered, and he
wasn't used to that. He slid a sideways glance at her, looking for
a clue about how to deal with her. She had her hair tied back with
a band and was wearing an old baggy t-shirt and training pants.
Only Alice could manage to look great in that outfit. Eoin felt it
wasn’t quite the time to mention that, but couldn’t decide on what
else to mention either.

The silence dragged on. Eoin
raised his tea and sipped at it, feeling more and more like an
idiot for popping in unannounced like this. The Swedes didn't
really do popping in very well. All popping, whether in or out, had
to be arranged and confirmed at least a week in advance and then
pencilled into a diary. Eoin knew this. This spontaneity had surely
added to Alice's level of fluster, and maybe that was too many
different kinds of fluster for anybody to bear.

Alice put her knife down. She
rinsed her hands and rubbed them dry on her clothes. Then, with
great relief to both of them, she deftly changed the subject.

“
Right, let's see what
you've got in store for this lady tonight!”

Alice took him by the arm and
manoeuvred him carefully into position in the hall. She switched on
the lights, took a step back and studied him critically.

“
Your jeans are too high,
pull them down a bit. And don't tuck that shirt in, even with the
jacket on, it's just too short. The brown belt matches the shoes,
bonus points on that. And open the shirt a few buttons. What about
smells?”

She stepped up to Eoin, sniffed
him, then gave an accusing look. “What, you've got nothing on? No
man-perfume at all? Seriously, how are you going to impress a lady
like that? With just your natural manly odour?”

Eoin shrugged and Alice tssked.
“Stand. I've got samples somewhere.”

She made for her bedroom. When
she returned with two tiny bottles, Eoin couldn't hold it in any
more. “Look, this trip to Gotland,” he blurted out. “We've started
to plan it, and I just want to know what to tell people. Like
Andy.”