The Dangerous Game (19 page)

She noticed Robert giving her an appreciative look. She was glad that he was so generous. His words had warmed her heart and offered some solace after all the misery she’d been through in the past few weeks. He was talking to a couple of designers but kept glancing in her direction. I just hope he doesn’t get too interested, Jenny thought. She knew of his reputation, but so far he hadn’t displayed those sorts of tendencies towards her. Not at all. He had seemed genuinely happy about her success, although the looks he gave her hinted at his undisguised admiration. She sighed and turned back to her friends, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the evening. She didn’t need any more problems. She just wanted to have fun.

The flat that had been chosen for the party was amazing. It was in a beautiful early-twentieth-century building, with high ceilings and stucco decoration, and tiled stoves with blazing fires in every room. Dinner was served in the dining room on numerous round tables elegantly set with linen tablecloths, crystal glasses and elaborate candelabra. The only light came from the glow of hundreds of candles, and there was a magnificent view of Stureplan outside with all the neon lights glittering in the night.

One of the city’s celebrated chefs had prepared dinner, which consisted of coquilles Saint-Jacques, veal escalope and lime sorbet.

Jenny was in luck. The other guests at her table were all models or photographers. Seated next to her was Tobias, a cute and very pleasant photographer who was liked by everyone. They had worked together only once so far, but it had been a great experience. Jenny relaxed. Now she was going to have fun, and she happily drank a toast with all the others seated at her table.

An hour later, Jenny needed to find the loo. On her way out of the dining room she came face to face with Diana. She had to admit that the woman was extraordinarily beautiful. She was of Chinese heritage, with a pale complexion and almond-shaped brown eyes. Her hair was black and thick, billowing over her shoulders. She was blocking Jenny’s way, staring at her coldly.

‘So you’re the one,’ she said. ‘You’re the one he was sleeping with.’

‘Sorry?’ said Jenny uncertainly.

She was in no mood for confrontation. She pushed past and fled to the bathroom. When she came out and looked around, Diana seemed to have vanished.

Jenny needed a smoke, so she went out on the balcony.

She had no sooner lit a cigarette than Diana appeared in the doorway, along with several models that Jenny didn’t know. Jenny pretended to talk on her mobile so she wouldn’t have to speak to them. Down below was Stureplan, with its neon signs, taxis rushing past in the street, and beautifully dressed city people on their way to various clubs and restaurants.

The next instant, Diana was standing right next to Jenny, her eyes seething with anger.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ she snarled.

Jenny turned her back on Diana and continued her feigned phone conversation, although her heart was pounding.

Suddenly, Diana grabbed the mobile out of her hand. Jenny watched as it was hurled over the railing and shattered on the street several storeys below.

‘You need to listen to me when I’m talking to you!’ shouted Diana.

‘What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?’

At that moment, Robert Ek turned up.

‘What’s going on here?’

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing,’ said Jenny, and she hurried back to her table.

There, she tried to shake off her feeling of unease. Tobias filled her glass with more wine, and she gratefully took a big swallow.

Now the evening could continue.

TEN O’CLOCK IS
bedtime on the ward, and an hour later it’s lights out. Even though she’s exhausted after all the travails of the day, she can’t fall asleep. Instead, she lies in bed in the dark, thinking about her day. In her mind she weighs up how much she was able to exercise versus how much she has eaten. She goes over everything, hour by hour, from the moment she woke up until now.

First, she had done as much jumping as she could in the bathroom, until the nurse knocked on the door, asking her if she had finished. She had managed to do twenty jumps before the nurse had turned up, and she had to pretend that she was constipated. Not a success, in other words, since she needed to do at least thirty jumps in order to feel satisfied.

Then it was time for breakfast. Lately, Agnes has been allowed to eat in the dining room with the other patients.

No Widget is used at breakfast time. Instead, staff members serve the food portions, and that lends a certain liberating air to the meal. But it also prompts uneasiness and frustration among the patients. It’s important to make the right choices and not take too much of any one thing. Nor to get more food than anyone else.

This morning they had been served oatmeal with a choice of half a banana, a pear or a plastic container of plums. The pears were huge and there were no bananas left, so Agnes chose the plums. On a tray stood ten cups lined up, with six plums in each. She examined all of them with great care and only made up her mind when the nurse in charge told her to hurry up. Agnes is almost certain that she managed to choose the cup with the smallest plums.

When the oatmeal was served, she trembled at the size of the portion and she couldn’t help protesting. ‘That’s way too much. She got a lot less than me,’ Agnes said, pointing at Erika, who was ahead of her in the queue. The nurse ignored her. The next challenge occurred when she had to pour the milk for the oatmeal. The goal was to make as little milk as possible look like a large amount. Agnes splashed the milk around on top of the oatmeal; that produced the best effect. But then something happened that should never happen. As she stirred the cereal to make it look like a bigger portion, air bubbles formed underneath and all the milk disappeared, slipping away to hide under the cereal. Agnes was filled with panic and on the verge of tears as she tried to explain that she’d already poured at least three and a half ounces of milk into her bowl. But the nurse refused to be convinced, pointing out that she couldn’t see any. So Agnes had been forced to add more.

When she finally sank down on to her chair at the table, she was feeling so anxious she could hardly breathe. A nurse was always seated at each table to keep an eye on the patients. But Agnes was still able to remove the cold cuts from one sandwich, along with two slices of cheese, which she put in her pocket. She also spilled several spoonfuls of oatmeal on to the table. All in all, what she managed to avoid eating at breakfast compensated for the ten jumps she’d missed and the excessive amount of milk. In other words, breakfast and her morning exercises were a draw. Feeling slightly relieved, Agnes continued reviewing the day.

After breakfast there was always an obligatory thirty-minute rest period, although they weren’t required to go to the warm room. It was enough to sit in the common room or on a sofa in the corridor. She had succeeded in trudging around for at least half of the rest period. When it was time for the morning snack, she was in good shape.

A container with ten ounces of a nutrient-rich drink had to be consumed in fifteen minutes. The same for everyone. Now, an interesting interval ensued. As soon as all fifteen patients had taken their seats at the table, the shaking began. Silence reigned, except for the sound of fifteen drink containers being frantically shaken. Tense muscles, resolute expressions. Everyone was focused on the task at hand. It was important to shake the container as long as possible, since the motion caused foam from the drink to settle on the inside of the packaging, which meant that there was less for the patient to drink. Agnes had also managed to pour some of the drink into the screw-on top. Foam was still in the top when she screwed it back on, so she had even less to drink. The nurse made sure that each container was empty, but it was impossible to detect the foam left inside. Yet another small victory.

Before lunch they always went out to get some fresh air. That was definitely the high point of the day. All the patients had to go outside, but there was no question of taking a long walk. Accompanied by two nurses, they took the lift down to the ground floor. It was a relief just to see the Pressbyrå news stand, the hospital entrance, and other people. Outside, they turned left and walked along the paved pathway, past the shelter put up for smokers and maybe two hundred metres further along, moving at a slow pace. At the grove of trees they turned around and headed back. They walked in single file along the path, as if treading an invisible line, all of them following the same crack in the asphalt. More than a dozen young girls who looked almost skeletal, dressed in tracksuit bottoms, fleece shirts, big sweaters, jackets, leg warmers, and knitted caps. Yet they were always cold. Looking pale and solemn, they slowly marched forward. Like a funeral procession. No one spoke to anyone else. Some occasionally took little detours, for instance choosing to go around a pillar in front of the entrance instead of proceeding straight ahead, which would have been more natural. One girl walked on the grass instead of on the pavement because that required more energy; another made a point of veering around every puddle of water. Always the same urge. Each extra step, no matter how small, counted. But it was blissful to be outside and get some fresh air. Any time the daily outing was missed it was cause for hysteria. If it was raining hard or there was a strong wind or the snow was really coming down, the outing would be cancelled. That was the worst thing that could happen. And that sort of decision often led to loud outbursts on the ward.
It’s not raining that much, there’s hardly any wind, please, oh please
.

In the afternoon, her father had come to visit, with Katarina in tow, although she had had to wait in the day room, as usual. When Agnes and her father went down to the cafeteria on the ground floor, they saw Katarina sitting there, having coffee with Per. He must have taken pity on her. Agnes pretended not to see them.

At least she had been able to skip the afternoon snack, since she was with Pappa. And she’d told him that she’d already eaten. Extra points for that.

Dinner had been a torment, but afterwards she’d managed to slip away to the conference room and spent at least twenty minutes jumping up and down. She’d seen her reflection in the window and that had made her cry. The pain in her chest was almost unbearable. No one had noticed what she was doing.

The feeling of anxiety had eased a bit after that. She’d done much more than she’d expected.

Only when she comes to that satisfying conclusion is she able to relax enough to fall asleep.

‘
SHALL WE GET
together later and have a cosy time? Just you and me?’ The brunette placed her hand on Robert Ek’s shoulder as she whispered in his ear. He looked down into her plunging neckline. Then she moved on through the crowd, turning around once to give him a flirtatious smile. She was so voluptuous that he felt weak in the knees. It was now past midnight, and by this time Ek had had rather a lot to drink. He’d spent the past hour hanging out in the club with various models and colleagues as he cast covetous glances at the never-ending stream of young women who passed by. Bare shoulders, trim bodies in tight dresses, long, supple legs, swaying breasts beneath gauzy fabric, seductive glances.

In his capacity as head of the country’s biggest modelling agency, Ek was well aware of his high status as a desirable companion, even though he was married. He was rich, he held a not insignificant position of power, and he had a guaranteed place among the elite and famous. He also looked good for his age. He had a smooth complexion, high cheekbones, green eyes with thick, dark lashes, and a lovely mouth with Cupid’s-bow lips. Robert Ek was careful to stay fit and keep off the weight. And, in the eyes of many, he had exquisitely sophisticated taste in clothes.

There were so many available women. The only problem was the promise he’d recently made to his wife. That promise had put a stop to any dreams. He truly intended to keep himself under control tonight, because Erna had given him an ultimatum. If she ever found out that he’d again been unfaithful to her, she would leave him for good. This time, she was serious. And she would take the children with her. They were old enough now that they could decide for themselves which parent they wanted to live with. But he knew as well as Erna did what they would decide. All four would choose to live with their mother, who had taken care of them all these years, had always been available, cooking their meals and helping with their homework, showing them love, offering support and encouragement. Robert Ek had always made his job a higher priority than his family. And that had cost him. It was the price he would have to pay if there was ever a divorce. If Erna Linton had not loved her husband with all her heart, they would have separated long ago. But true love could withstand only so much. Even she had finally reached her limit, and Ek realized that his wife would no longer forgive his transgressions or ignore what was going on. ‘Good Lord, we’re both close to fifty,’ she’d told him. ‘I can’t do this any more. I want peace and quiet and harmony. I want to reap my rewards after all the work I’ve done with the children. I want to travel, go to the theatre and the cinema, and enjoy good meals. To put it simply, I want to enjoy life. And if you can’t accept that, then we need to get a divorce and I’ll do it on my own. I don’t want to be sad any more. Or feel hurt and disappointed.’

If only this party had been a couple of weeks earlier, the doors to an extramarital fling would have stood wide open. The situation couldn’t have been better, with the agency’s annual Christmas celebration coinciding with his mother-in-law’s eightieth birthday up in Leksand. The whole family had gone to Dalarna for the weekend, and he had had the house to himself. Since he lived so close to town, it was a simple matter to invite people over. And the house was set sufficiently apart from the neighbours that no one would notice who was coming and going – something that had made his escapades in the past that much easier. He wasn’t tempted to go to a hotel; that seemed too tawdry. It didn’t bother him in the least that he played out his sexual desires in his family home. ‘What someone doesn’t know won’t hurt them’: that was Robert Ek’s philosophy. And, besides, the house belonged to him. He had paid not only for the house itself but for every single thing inside it.