LITMIR.BIZ

       10

      Veronica goes with Marie as she searches the house for Reidar. They walk through rooms and halls. His jacket is lying on the stairs to the first floor and they go up. It’s dark, but they can see flickering firelight further off. In a large room they find Reidar sitting on a sofa in front of the fireplace. His cufflinks are gone and his sleeves are dangling over his hands. On the low bookcase beside him there are four bottles of Château Cheval Blanc.

      ‘I just wanted to say sorry,’ Marie says, leaning against the door.

      ‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ Reidar mutters, still gazing into the fire.

      ‘It was stupid of me to drag the doll out without asking first,’ Marie goes on.

      ‘As far as I’m concerned, you can burn all the old shit,’ he replies.

      Veronica goes over to him, kneels down and looks up at his face with a smile.

      ‘Have you been introduced to Marie?’ she asks. ‘She’s David’s friend … I think.’

      Reidar raises his glass towards the red-haired woman, then takes a big gulp. Veronica takes the glass from him, tastes the wine, and sits down.

      She pushes her shoes off, leans back and rests her bare feet in his lap.

      Gently he caresses her calf, the bruise from the new stirrup leather of her saddle, then up the inside of her thigh towards her groin. She lets it happen, not bothered by the fact that Marie is still in the room.

      The flames are rising high in the huge fireplace. The heat is pulsating and her face feels so hot it’s almost burning.

      Marie comes cautiously closer. Reidar looks at her. Her red hair has started to curl in the heat of the room. Her leopard-skin dress is creased and stained.

      ‘An admirer,’ Veronica says, holding the glass away from Reidar when he tries to reach it.

      ‘I love your books,’ Marie says.

      ‘Which books?’ he asks brusquely.

      He gets up and fetches a fresh glass from the dresser and pours some wine. Marie misunderstands the gesture and holds out her hand to take it.

      ‘I presume you go to the toilet yourself when you want to have a piss,’ Reidar says, drinking the wine.

      ‘There’s no need—’

      ‘If you want wine, then drink some fucking wine,’ he interrupts in a loud voice.

      Marie blushes and takes a deep breath. With her hand trembling she takes the bottle and pours herself a glass. Reidar sighs deeply, then says in a gentler tone of voice:

      ‘I think this vintage is one of the better years.’

      Taking the bottle with him, he goes back to his seat.

      Smiling, he watches as Marie sits down beside him, swirls the wine in her glass and tastes it.

      Reidar laughs and refills her glass, looks her in the eye, then turns serious and kisses her on the lips.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she asks.

      Reidar kisses Marie softly again. She moves her head away, but can’t help smiling. She drinks some wine, looks him in the eye, then leans over and kisses him.

      He strokes the nape of her neck, under her hair, then moves his hand over her right shoulder and feels how the narrow strap of her dress has sunk into her skin.

      She puts her glass down, kisses him again, and thinks that she’s mad as she lets him caress one of her breasts.

      Reidar suppresses the urge to burst into tears, making his throat hurt, as he strokes her thigh under her dress, feeling her nicotine patch, and moves his hand round to her backside.

      Marie pats his hand away when he tries to pull her underwear down, then stands up and wipes her mouth.

      ‘Maybe we should go back down and join the party again,’ she says, trying to sound neutral.

      ‘Yes,’ he says.

      Veronica is sitting motionless on the sofa and doesn’t meet her enquiring gaze.

      ‘Are you both coming?’

      Reidar shakes his head.

      ‘OK,’ Marie whispers and walks towards the door.

      Her dress shimmers as she leaves the room. Reidar stares through the open doorway. The darkness looks like dirty velvet.

      Veronica gets up and takes her glass from the table, and drinks. She has sweat patches under the arms of her dress.

      ‘You’re a bastard,’ she says.

      ‘I’m just trying to get the most out of life,’ he says quietly.

      He catches her hand and presses it to his cheek, holding it there and looking into her sorrowful eyes.