Aftermath Read online

  “Well, you may be thrifty, but you never stint when it comes to wine,” Kristian says, looking at Jan Olav and nodding at the wine bottle.

  “I drink so little that I can afford to treat myself,” Jan Olav says.

  “That’s us told, Julie,” Kristian says.

  It takes a moment, but then Julie gets it, she gives a short and unnaturally loud laugh, seizing the chance to get back at Jan Olav by laughing at Kristian’s little dig, that’s what she’s doing.

  “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Jan Olav chuckles.

  Julie raises her glass.

  “No, of course not,” she says, grinning as she takes a big gulp of her wine.

  I see how the smile immediately seems to fade from Jan Olav’s face, he looks at Julie for a second, saying nothing, then he carries on clearing the table. I swallow, feel my face grow hot, suddenly I’m blushing again, I look at Julie, try to catch her eye to let her know that this is no way to behave, but she doesn’t look at me.

  “Well, cheers,” Kristian says.

  “Cheers,” says Julie.

  I swallow, try to smile as I pick up my glass.

  “Cheers,” I mumble.

  Two seconds.

  “Be-yooteeful bo-kay,” Julie says, exaggerating and distorting the vowels, her way of mocking Jan Olav’s wine-connoisseur act. She’s got over what just happened and now she’s having another little dig at him. “But what’s the alcohol content?” she asks, still grinning as she picks up the bottle, shuts one eye, and peers at the label on the back. Then: “What—only eleven and a half percent!” She raises her eyebrows, feigning shock, implying that the alcohol content is all that matters to her and she can’t believe anyone would buy wine with so little alcohol in it, she’s making herself out to be more common and simpleminded than she actually is now, trying to play down her middle-class affiliations and accentuate her working-class roots, that’s what she’s doing when she carries on like this, she enjoys good food and good wine as much as the rest of us, but now she’s trying to make out that all that sort of thing is just a pose, pure snobbery. She feels she made a fool of herself when she didn’t get Jan Olav’s joke and started talking about her own background, and now she’s trying to make up for this by showing how proud she is of that same background. As if this will dispel the sense of having made a fool of herself. It doesn’t, though, it just makes the whole situation worse, the whole evening will be ruined if she carries on like this. I try to catch her eye again, but with no luck, she’s looking at Kristian with that dopey red-wine grin on her face, and Kristian seems to find it highly amusing, he’s laughing at her stupid jokes, I can feel it getting to me, he should be helping me to make Julie see that she’s making a fool of herself, instead of encouraging her. But he’s not, he hasn’t changed, Kristian, he’s so insensitive.

  Then Kjersti reappears, she smiles at Kristian as she takes his plate.

  “Thanks again,” Kristian says. “That was lovely.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  “It’s just a shame there wasn’t any saffron in it,” Julie says. She flashes Kjersti an artless little smile before turning back to Kristian, sits there for a moment or two, mouth working, then bursts out laughing, Kjersti tries to smile and ignore her, but her face is a little tight as she picks up Julie’s plate and places it on top of Kristian’s. “Oh, sorry,” Julie gasps. “I can’t help it,” she adds, putting her hands to her face, shaking her head, and laughing far too hard, she doesn’t think it’s that funny, in fact she doesn’t think it’s funny at all, I know she doesn’t, laughing like this is just an attempt to convince herself and everyone else that Jan Olav and Kjersti are ridiculous. But no one else is laughing. Not even Kristian is laughing now, only Julie, and she won’t let up, it’s as if she thinks the more she laughs, the more convinced the rest of us will be that there’s something to laugh about, but there isn’t, this isn’t the least bit funny.

  Then Kristian puts a finger to his lips.

  “Shh,” he says, looking at Julie and nodding toward the kitchen where Kjersti and Jan Olav are.

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” Julie giggles, trying to make us believe that she can’t stop laughing.

  Kristian leans across the table slightly, still with his finger to his lips.

  “Now we have to behave ourselves,” he whispers.

  “Okay,” Julie whispers back, eyeing Kristian like an ally of sorts, they seem to have hit it off, these two, it’s not as though they fancy each other and I have cause to be jealous, that I don’t believe, they’re far too different from each other for that, no, I think it’s more that they’ve both reached the same level of drunkenness, that they’re both in the same place, you might say.

  “I’ll try to pull myself together,” she adds. She sits quietly for a moment, then turns toward the kitchen, blinks slowly, and gazes at Kjersti and Jan Olav. It’s a while since I’ve seen her this drunk, her head seems to be only loosely attached to her neck, it wobbles from side to side. She turns back to Kristian.

  “Is she cross, do you think?” she whispers.

  “Naaah,” Kristian says with a flick of his hand, as if waving away the whole problem.

  “But she might be if you carry on like this,” I say, speaking softly so Kjersti and Jan Olav won’t hear.

  Julie looks at me for a moment, getting annoyed now, then turns to Kristian again.

  “Did you hear that?” she says.

  “What?” Kristian says.

  “He can talk!”

  A split second, then they burst out laughing again, I feel a twinge of annoyance, I don’t like to hear her joking about this, she should be better than that.

  “What did he say?” Kristian asks, playing along.

  “What did you say, dear?” Julie asks, giggling at me.

  I eye her gravely, letting her know that enough is enough.

  “I think he’s said his piece for today,” Julie says, turning back to Kristian.

  “Damn shame we didn’t catch it, then,” Kristian says.

  And they laugh again.

  I shut my eyes, sigh, and open them again.

  “Julie, please,” I murmur.

  “What, am I embarrassing you?” she says, grinning at me.

  “Julie, don’t do this.”

  She turns to Kristian, leans across the table, and lays her hand on his arm.

  “He doesn’t think I’m … how shall I put it … intellectual enough, you see.”

  “Nah,” Kristian says. “I don’t believe that.”

  “No, it’s true. Just after he started at that dender … dendo, no … den-dro-chro-no-lo-gical laboratory … God Almighty, even the name of the place where he works is too hard for me … oh, well, never mind! There was this one time, right, just after he started there, when we were on this kind of getting-to-know-you weekend with his colleagues and this one evening we were playing Trivial Pursuit … oh, God, I couldn’t answer a single question and you should have seen him, he was so mad,” she says and she bursts out laughing again. “I didn’t care because I know I’m not stupid and I don’t give a shit what other people think of me. But Marius, oh my God … when I guessed that the Spanish Civil War took place in the sixteenth century … well, I’m telling you, if looks could kill!”

  “That’s not why I was mad, Julie,” I say.

  “Oh, no? Okay, so why were you mad?”

  “You were nearly as drunk then as you are now, that’s why,” I say, looking her in the eye, trying to make her see that I’m serious and that she’d better not go any further, but she just grins.

  “You were mad long before I got drunk,” she says. “You’re always in such a bad mood when we’re out with other people.”

  I look at her, I’m really annoyed now, but I don’t let it show, nor will I, there’s nothing worse than a couple having a stand-up row at a party, bothering other people with their personal problems, big or small, and I don’t want us to be that sort of couple, better to leave it until
we’re alone.

  “Yeah, right” is all I say.

  “But it’s tru-ue,” Julie goes on. “You hardly ever want to go out anymore, all you want is to stay home with me,” she says with a little laugh, neglecting to mention that she’s a monophobe and doesn’t really like being left alone in the house, making out that it’s my own fault I don’t get out much. “What you’d really like, though, would be for us to live out in the forest at Namsskogan,” she goes on, then she turns to Kristian and smirks, she’s going to start making fun of my project at the cottage now, I’ll bet, I can tell by her face, she wants Kristian to laugh at my project too, but fortunately she doesn’t get that far because Jan Olav and Kjersti emerge from the kitchen.

  “Coffee,” Jan Olav says, I look at him and smile, look at Kjersti and she looks back at me as she sets out the coffee cups, she twists her lips into a smile meant to reassure me and tell me not to take it to heart and I give her a strained little grin in return, to let her know that I’ve given up, but that it’s okay. I turn and glance across at Jan Olav, over by the drinks cabinet. He opens the door and takes out a bottle of Otard cognac, smiles as he puts the bottle on the table, but then his smile stiffens, there’s something about Kjersti, she’s standing there with her mouth half-open, frowning at him. It takes a moment, but then it dawns on me, she’s annoyed because he means to serve cognac with the coffee. She feels Kristian and Julie have had enough and coffee on its own will do.

  “Oh—er,” Jan Olav splutters, he hasn’t thought this through, I can tell, he stands there looking flummoxed as Kjersti gives a quick shake of her head and walks straight past him and into the kitchen. Jan Olav heaves a little sigh, then he turns, takes brandy glasses from the drinks cabinet, probably doesn’t feel he has any choice now that he’s put out the bottle.

  “Not for me, thanks,” I say. “I’ve had enough for tonight.”

  “Aw, what’s the matter now?” Kristian asks, staring at me and acting stunned.

  “I’ve got an early start in the morning,” I say.

  “But aren’t you on holiday?”

  “Yes, but I’m thinking of driving over to Grong,” I say, don’t know what makes me say that, it’s a while since I went to see Torstein and the family and I probably should take a run over there, but I hadn’t actually been planning on going there tomorrow.

  “Oh, well, for heaven’s sake, you don’t need to leave all that early, do you?”

  “Aw, he’s not going to Grong,” Julie says. “Marius hates Grong, he only goes there a couple of times a year because he feels he has to, that’s just his way of telling me the party’s over,” she says, looking at Kristian and grinning, she knows she’s long since overstepped the mark, but she carries on in the same fashion, doesn’t want to lose face, I suppose, that’s probably why she’s going even further than she’s already done, it’s a desperate attempt to convince herself and everyone else that she’s on a roll and having great fun.

  “Ooh,” Kristian says. “Sneaky!”

  “Here you go,” Jan Olav says, placing a glass in front of Kristian. “Would you like a brandy, Julie?”

  “Bring it on,” says Julie.

  Jan Olav sets the glass in front of her, flashing me an apologetic glance, as if to say he’s sorry for being so thoughtless, I don’t say anything, just smile quietly back at him, letting him know it’s okay.

  Then Julie leans across the table, looks at Kristian.

  “Excuse me, is that all you get?” she whispers, frowning as if to say she’s not quite sure what the form is here.

  “Yeah, ’fraid so,” Kristian whispers back.

  “Okay,” she says, blinking and straightening up. “I had to ask, you see, because I’m not used to being in such grand company.” She smirks, picks up her glass, and knocks back all the brandy in one go, she just keeps pushing it and pushing it, she knows she’s being vulgar and rude, but she’s frantically trying to convince herself and everyone else that she’s actually being funny. I look at her, this has gone far enough, I have to stop her before she does irreparable damage, this is my best man’s home, after all.

  “I think it’s about time we were going, Julie,” I say, with a little yawn.

  “You see,” she says, looking at Kristian and shaking her head. “The minute he sees me having fun, it’s time to go home, it never fails,” she says and she picks up the empty brandy glass, puts it to her lips, and tilts her head back. She sits like that for a moment or two as if hoping it might not be empty after all, then she starts to laugh, soundlessly to start with, her shoulders quivering, then she puts down the glass, squeezes her eyes shut, and slaps her hand over her mouth as she doubles up and bursts into an exaggerated fit of the giggles.

  “What’s so funny?” Kristian asks.

  “It just struck me … ,” Julie gasps, but can’t get any further.

  “What just struck you?” Kristian shouts.

  “Marius,” Julie giggles. “If I’m coming home … if I’m coming home from a night out on my own, he tells me to stuff my jacket up under my dress,” she says, howling with laughter, her eyes still closed. She didn’t laugh at the time, though, not at all. When I suggested she should stuff her jacket under her dress, she thought it was a good idea, but apparently she’s changed her mind, apparently she now thinks it was a stupid idea because she’s laughing harder than I’ve ever seen her laugh, although it’s hard to tell, maybe she still thinks it’s a good idea but is pretending not to, because she wants to pay me back, because she knows everyone else here will agree that it’s a stupid idea and because she wants me to look like a fool in their eyes.

  “Stuff your jacket under your dress?”

  “Yeah, a rolled-up jacket … to make it look like I’m pregnant. He thinks there’s less risk of me getting raped if I look like I’m pregnant.”

  “Really?” Kristian says. “Is that true?” he asks. I see his jaw slowly drop, he looks at Julie, looks at me, looks at Julie again and she shuts her eyes, claps her hand over her mouth, shaking with suppressed laughter. And then Kristian shakes his head and he too starts to laugh, he doesn’t say anything, seems to have no words to describe how hilarious he finds this, this is obviously pure comedy hour for him and he laughs and laughs. I look at him, look at Julie, feel myself growing more and more annoyed, I don’t usually mind being kidded or teased, but I draw the line at people making fun of me simply to feel better about themselves or to pay me back for something they think I’ve done, that’s where I draw the line.

  And that’s what Julie and Kristian are doing now. Julie knows she’s made a fool of herself, so she’s trying to bolster her ego by making me and Jan Olav and Kjersti look stupid, and Kristian is probably just feeling frustrated with his own situation, he still doesn’t have a girlfriend and the fact that I brought my girlfriend with me when I moved back to Trondheim makes him feel even more of a failure than he already did. Like: even Marius has a girlfriend—Marius, who no one ever thought would amount to anything, even he has found himself a girl before me, that’s what he’s thinking, so he vents his frustration by making fun of me in front of my girlfriend, I feel myself growing more and more annoyed, feel myself getting angry now, but I mustn’t let it show, so I just look at him and smile as pleasantly as I can, and he looks back at me, not laughing now, simply regarding me with an expectant smile on his lips, and suddenly I notice that Kjersti and Jan Olav are also gazing at me, Julie is the only one not looking at me, she’s fiddling with something in the bag slung over the back of her chair, I look at her, then at Kjersti, then Jan Olav, he’s standing at my shoulder, smiling agreeably.

  “What?” I say.

  “Would you like some?” Jan Olav asks.

  “Some what?” I say, and at that Kristian bursts out laughing again, slumps across the table, and laughs and laughs. Only then do I notice the French press Jan Olav is holding, I don’t know how long he’s been standing there like that, don’t know how many times he has asked me if I’d like coffee, but it must h
ave been a few, otherwise Kristian wouldn’t have laughed like that, that’s why he’s roaring with laughter, I suppose, because my mind was somewhere else, because I was lost in thought for a moment. I swallow, feel myself starting to sweat again, feel the sweat break out on the back of my neck and my brow.

  “Oh, yes, please,” I say quickly, then I give a little laugh, trying to sound rueful, laughing at myself while wiping the sweat from my temples, first one side, then the other.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I was just thinking about something.”

  “No, you don’t say?” Julie drawls. She removes her lighter and a pack of cigarettes from her bag, pulls out a cigarette and pops it in her mouth. She’s not going to smoke in here, surely? She can’t be that far gone. I take a sip of coffee, say nothing, she sits there patting her pockets for a few moments before it dawns on her that she’s got her lighter out already, she gives a silly little titter, crosses her eyes as she grasps it and goes to light up.