My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry(92)

The dog disappeared after that. But Britt-Marie’s mother still hated the young medical student, and nothing anyone said could make her change her mind. And then came the car accident in the street just outside the house. Britt-Marie’s mother never saw the truck. The impact shook the whole building. The mother emerged from the front seat of the car with nothing worse than a few grazes, reeling and confused, but no one came out of the backseat. The mother screamed the most terrible of screams when she saw all the blood. The young medical student came running out in her nightie, her whole face full of cinnamon bun crumbs, and she saw the two girls in the backseat. She had no car of her own and she could only carry one girl. She wedged the door open and saw that one of them was breathing and the other wasn’t. She picked up the girl who was still breathing and ran. Ran all the way to the hospital.

Alf goes silent. Elsa asks what happened to the sister. Alf is silent for three red lights. Then he says, in a voice heavy with bitterness: “It’s a terrible bloody thing when a parent loses a child. That family was never properly whole again. It wasn’t the mother’s fault. It was a bastard car accident, it was no one’s fault. But she probably never got over it. And she damned well never forgave your grandmother.”

“For what?”

“Because she thought your grandmother saved the wrong daughter.”

Elsa’s silence feels like a hundred red lights.

“Was Kent also in love with Britt-Marie?” she asks at last.

“We’re brothers. Brothers compete.”

“And Kent won?”

A sound comes from Alf’s throat; Elsa can’t quite tell if it’s a cough or a laugh.

“Like hell. I won.”

“What happened then?”

“Kent moved. Got married, too damned young, to a nasty piece of work. Had the twins, David and Pernilla. He loves those kids, but that woman made him bloody unhappy.”

“What about you and Britt-Marie?”

One red light. Another.

“We were young. People are bloody idiots when they’re young. I went away. She stayed here.”

“Where did you go?”

“To a war.”

Elsa stares at him.

“Were you also a soldier?”

Alf pulls his hand through his lack of hair.

“I’m old, Elsa. I’ve been a hell of a lot of things.”

“What happened to Britt-Marie, then?”

“I was on my way home. She was going to come and give me a surprise. And she saw me with another woman.”

“You had an affair?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because people are bloody idiots when they’re young.”

Red light.

“Then what did you do?” asks Elsa.

“Went away,” he answers.

“For how long?”

“Bloody long.”

“And Kent?”

“He got divorced. Moved back in with Mum. Britt-Marie was still there. Yeah, what the hell, he’d always loved her. So when her parents died they moved into their flat. Kent had got wind of the owners maybe selling the whole place as leasehold flats. So they stayed on and waited for the dough. They got married and Britt-Marie probably wanted children but Kent thought the ones he already had were bloody enough. And now things are the way they are.”

Elsa opens and closes Taxi’s glove compartment.

“Why did you come home from the wars, then?”

“Some wars finish. And Mum got ill. Someone had to take care of her.”

“Didn’t Kent do that?”

Alf’s nails wander around his forehead like nails do when wandering among memories and opening doors that have long been closed.

“Kent took care of Mum while she was still alive. He’s an idiot but he was always a good son, you can’t take that away from the bastard. Mother never lacked for anything while she was alive. So I took care of her while she was dying.”

“And then?”

Alf scratches his head. Doesn’t seem to know the exact answer himself.

“Then I just sort of . . . stayed on.”

Elsa looks at him with seriousness. Takes a deep, concluding breath and says: “I like you very much, Alf. But you were a bit of a shit when you went away like that.”

Alf coughs or laughs again.

After the next red light he mutters:

“Britt-Marie took care of your mother when her father died. While your grandmother was still traveling a lot, you know. She wasn’t always the nagbag she is now.”

“I know,” says Elsa.

“Did your grandmother tell you that?”

“In a way. She told me a story about a princess in a kingdom of sorrow, and two princes who loved her so much that they began to hate each other. And the wurses were driven into exile by the princess’s parents, but then the princess fetched them back when the war came. And about a witch who stole a treasure from the princess.”

She goes silent. Crosses her arms. Turns to Alf.

“I was the treasure, right?”

Alf sighs.

“I’m not so big on fairy tales.”

“You could make an effort!”

“Britt-Marie has given her whole life to being there for a man who is never home, and trying to make someone else’s children love her. When your grandfather died and she could be there for your mother, it was perhaps the first time she felt . . .”