Love by Hanne Ørstavik

Author:Hanne Ørstavik
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Steerforth Press
Published: 2018-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

JON STANDS BY THE CHAIR. He ought to go now that the girl has gone to bed, but he likes it here. There’s a scorch mark on the table from a saucepan. The girl’s father has switched to leafing through the local paper, her mother stands with her back to them at the counter, dividing some leftovers from a pan into some small plastic bags. I’m not from these parts either, she says to Jon. She tells him she’s from Finland, further south, but her husband’s related to practically the whole village so she feels at home here anyway. Jon watches her as she works. It must be okay for him to stay if she’s still talking to him. Her fat body remains still, only her arms move, steady and calm. When the bags have been filled she twirls them and twists a thin fastener around each. She smiles at him. She takes the bags with her out of the kitchen. Jon hears a door creak on its hinges, then the sound of heavy feet going down a staircase. He supposes they’ve got a freezer in the basement. The girl’s father turns the page of his newspaper without looking up. Tomorrow Jon will be nine. He feels it in his tummy, he feels it wanting to come out of his mouth too, but he doesn’t say anything. He smiles. He hears the girl’s mother come up the basement stairs again.

Vibeke thinks he seems troubled now. Not at all like before. She wants them to talk about something important.

“How about a whisky?”

He’s standing at the open cupboard. Before she can answer he’s got two glasses in one hand and a bottle in the other. He puts them on the table and moves the dirty dishes over to the counter. He’s eaten her portion too.

“See you,” says Jon. The girl’s father says something he doesn’t catch in reply. On his way into the hall he walks straight into the mother. He feels her big belly against his arms, her heavy breasts hang level with his mouth. He tries to stop blinking as he mutters goodnight.

When he gets to his feet after doing up his boots he feels dizzy. He steadies himself with his left hand on the wall. Maybe there’s something wrong with his heart. The front door isn’t locked. He goes out and closes it behind him, giving it a push to make sure it’s properly shut.

The forest behind the house is dark. There’s a pisshole in the snow at the corner of the house, Jon wonders if the dog he saw earlier might live here. It’s not the dog, it’s the hair, Vibeke says whenever he asks if they can have one.

His hands are cold already. He puts them in his trouser pockets. He thinks about the girl and the whites of her eyes as she slept.

He goes down the driveway to the road. He thinks he’ll look out for her on the bus tomorrow, maybe he’ll tell her then.

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