I don’t know what you mean by your last sentence there exactly. Do you mean just because we’re far away from each other or because we’ve actually changed as people? I do feel like a pretty different person now than I was then but maybe I don’t seem that different, I don’t know. By the way I looked your friend Lukas up on Facebook, he’s what you would call ‘Scandinavian looking’. Sadly Sweden did not qualify for the World Cup this time so if you end up with a Swedish boyfriend I’ll have to think of another way to bond with him. Not that I’m saying this guy Lukas is going to be your boyfriend or would want to talk to me about football if he was, although it’s something I am putting out as a possibility. I know you like the tall handsome guys as you say, so why not Lukas, who looks tall and is also handsome (Helen has seen his photo and agrees). But whatever, I’m not pushing the boyfriend thing, I just hope you have confirmed he’s not a psychopath. You don’t always have a good radar on that.
Unrelatedly we were getting a taxi through Phoenix Park last night and we saw a lot of deer. Deer are kind of strange looking creatures. In the night they have a ghostly appearance and their eyes can reflect headlights in an olive green or silver colour, like a special effect. They paused to observe our taxi before moving on. To me it’s weird when animals pause because they seem so intelligent, but maybe that’s because I associate pausing with thought. Deer are elegant anyway I have to say. If you were an animal yourself, you could do worse than be a deer. They have those thoughtful faces and nice sleek bodies. But they also kind of startle off in unpredictable ways. They didn’t remind me of you at the time but in retrospect I see a similarity there. I hope you’re not offended by the comparison. I would tell you about the party prior to us getting the taxi through Phoenix Park but it was honestly boring and not as good as the deer. No one was there who you would know that well. Your last email was really good, thank you. I look forward to hearing more as always.
Marianne checks the time in the top-right corner of the screen: 09:49. She navigates back to Joanna’s message and hits reply.
He’s taking the photos today, I’m actually heading over there now. Of course I will send them to you when they are finished AND I expect long flattering commentary on each individual photograph. I’m excited to hear what you’ve learned about the US Civil War. All I’ve learned here is how to say ‘no thank you’ (nej tack) and ‘really, no’ (verkligen, nej). Talk soon xxx
Marianne closes her laptop, eats another two bites of the pastry and folds the rest up in its little greaseproof wrap. She slips her laptop into her satchel and removes her soft felt beret, which she pulls down over her ears. The pastry she disposes of in a nearby bin.
Outside it’s still snowing. The exterior world looks like an old TV screen badly tuned. Visual noise breaks the landscape into soft fragments. Marianne buries her hands in her pockets. Flakes of snow fall on her face and dissolve there. A cold flake alights on her top lip and she feels for it with her tongue. Head down against the cold, she is on her way to Lukas’s studio. Lukas’s hair is so blonde that the individual strands look white. She finds them on her clothing sometimes, finer than thread. He dresses all in black: black shirts, black zip-up hoodies, black boots with thick black rubber soles. He’s an artist. The first time they met, Marianne told him she was a writer. It was a lie. Now she avoids talking to him about it.
Lukas lives near the station. She takes her hand from her pocket, blows on her fingers and presses the buzzer. He answers, in English: Who is it?
It’s Marianne, she says.
Ah, you’re early, says Lukas. Come on in.
Why does he say ‘you’re early’? Marianne thinks as she climbs the stairs. The connection was fuzzy but he seemed to say it with a smile. Was he pointing it out to make her appear too eager? But she finds she doesn’t care how eager she appears, because there is no secret eagerness to be discovered in her. She could be here, ascending the staircase to Lukas’s studio, or she could be in the campus library, or in the dorm making herself coffee. For weeks now she has had this feeling, the feeling of moving around inside a protective film, floating like mercury. The outside world touches against her outside skin, but not the other part of herself, inside. So whatever Lukas’s reason for saying ‘you’re early’, she finds it doesn’t matter to her.
Upstairs he’s setting up. Marianne removes her hat and shakes it. Lukas looks up, then back at the tripod. Are you getting used to the weather? he says. She hangs her hat on the back of the door and shrugs. She begins to take off her coat. In Sweden we have a saying, he says. There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.
Marianne hangs her coat beside her hat. What’s wrong with my clothes? she says mildly.
It’s just an expression, says Lukas.
