Humlin flinched as if he had been jumped from behind. Although he was drunk he couldn’t help feeling the same worry and suspicion he always felt when a person stood in front of him and declared their intentions to become a writer. He always feared that the other person would prove to be the greater talent.
‘What on earth for?’
‘I want to tell my story,’ she said.
‘And what story is that?’
‘My story.’
Humlin looked at the girl who was maybe eighteen or nineteen. He was so drunk that the room was rocking but he managed to keep his eyes fixed on her. She was very fat. She was wearing a shawl that concealed much of her body but he could still tell that she was more than just a little chubby. Her face was covered in acne and was shiny with sweat.
‘Where do you come from?’
‘Iran.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Leyla.’
‘Are you a boxer?’
‘I’m here because my brother asked me to come. He does boxing here.’
‘And you want to be a writer?’
‘I just need to know how it’s done.’
Humlin stared at her. He didn’t know where his next thought came from but it was fully formulated and clear, the way he very occasionally saw a whole poem appear before his eyes and never had to change a single word.
‘I can help you,’ he said when he put the bottle down. ‘If you give me your phone number, I’ll call you.’
Leyla jumped.
‘I can’t do that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t give out my phone number,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘My parents won’t like it if I start getting calls from a man.’
‘Just tell them who I am.’
She shook her head.
‘It won’t work. It’s not proper. Call Pelle Törnblom or Amanda.’
Then she smiled.
‘Are you sure you want to help me?’ she asked.
‘I am. If I can remains to be seen.’
Leyla left. Humlin stayed put and stared at the tattered posters on the wall. The outlines were still unclear but he finally had a sense of what he was going to write. Not the book Leander was working on, not the one Lundin wanted him to do. Something completely different.
Törnblom took him to the airport the following day. Humlin had a bad hangover and was not completely sure of what had happened towards the very end of the party. He had woken up to find himself lying on a training mat next to the ring. He had a pounding headache.
‘It was a great party, wasn’t it? I’m glad you decided to stay. Andrea will have cooled down by the time you get home.’
Humlin shuddered at the thought of what awaited him when he got home. He thought longingly of the beer he was hoping to get at the airport.
‘She won’t have cooled down one bit.’
‘Your visit meant a lot to the kids back there.’
Humlin didn’t reply. He thought of that fat girl, Leyla, and the idea that had come to him last night. In the grey light of the morning after he could no longer tell if he thought it was a good idea or not. And this suddenly frightened him more than the thought of what Andrea would say when he returned.
Everyone was against it, but for different reasons. Andrea, who had been waiting furiously for him to return, didn’t even want to hear a word of his new plan.
‘I can’t take my eyes off you for a second, can I? The only thing you ever put any thought into is how you’re going to sneak around without getting caught.’
‘I’m not unfaithful to you, Andrea.’
‘Then who is Amanda?’
Jesper Humlin stared back at her with surprise. They were sitting across from each other at her dinner table in the apartment in Hagersten some days after his return from Gothenburg.
‘Amanda is married to a good friend of mine, Pelle Törnblom. He runs a boxing club.’
‘When did you ever let that stop you? You called out her name in your sleep.’
‘So what? What matters is I’ve been inspired to write a book about — and
‘And what makes you qualified to do this?’
‘You can’t deny that I am a writer.’
‘Soon you’ll be telling me you’re going to write a bestseller.’
Humlin looked at her with horror.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘It just sounds like you think you can write whatever you please without effort. I think you should leave this poor girl alone.’
Humlin stopped trying to convince Andrea of his new idea. The rest of the evening was spent discussing his inadequate commitment to having children. Then she left for her night shift at the hospital. Before she left he promised her he would spend the night in the apartment and be there when she came back.
