‘Quite frankly I don’t give a damn what they say. I just don’t understand what makes you so cynical.’
‘I’m not cynical.’
‘You despise these girls.’
‘I don’t even know them. How could I despise them?’
Two men carrying a ladder entered the room at this point. Lundin signalled that their conversation was at an end.
‘I will think this over since you are so stubborn about it. Call me tomorrow.’
Humlin got up.
‘There’s nothing to think about. We do as I say or we don’t do anything.’
He left Lundin’s office and walked down the hall with the soft red carpet and stepped into an office where an older man by the name of Jan Sundström worked. He handled international sales. One of Humlin’s earliest works had been translated into both Norwegian and Finnish. Then there had been nothing for nine years until one book was translated into Egyptian and naturally did very poorly. Sundström was an anxious man who viewed it as a personal victory every time he managed to place a book abroad.
‘Norway has shown some interest,’ he said when he saw Humlin. ‘There’s no need to abandon hope just yet.’
Humlin sat down across from him. He respected Sundström’s opinion.
‘What do you think of a book about immigrants? A novel about some immigrant girls and their — in my opinion — rather remarkable stories?’
‘That sounds like a wonderful idea.’
Sundström got up nervously and closed the door.
‘I must say I was rather surprised when I heard all this about you writing a murder mystery. What’s happening to the world of Swedish literature?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not writing a murder mystery.’
‘But I spent all morning in a long marketing meeting about it. They’re counting on huge international sales. I have to say I think you could have spelled out a little more of the plot.’
Humlin stared at him.
‘What plot?’
Sundström dug around in the mass of papers on his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. Humlin read the text with a rising sense of desperation.
‘Jesper Humlin, one of the most important poets of our time, has taken on the task of renewing the crime novel and giving this genre a deeper philosophical bent. The plot takes place in Sweden with travels to a dark and cold Helsinki as well as bright and warm locales in Brazil. No more shall be said about the actual details of the novel here, but it may be assumed that the protagonist bears a striking resemblance to the author himself. .’
Humlin was so furious he started to shake and turn red.
‘Who the hell has written this?’
‘You did.’
‘Me? Says who?’
‘Olof.’
‘I am going to kill him. I haven’t written this. I don’t understand where this came from.’
‘It was Olof who gave us a copy of the text. He said it had been dictated to him by you over a mobile phone line. Apparently it was a little hard to hear what you were saying.’
Humlin was so angry he couldn’t sit still. He left the office, ran through the hallway and threw open Lundin’s door. But the workmen were the only people still in there. At the reception downstairs Humlin was told that Lundin had just left the building for a meeting and was not expected until the following day.
‘Where is he?’ Humlin demanded.
‘He is in a closed meeting, sir.’
‘Where?’
‘That is classified information. Is it important?’
‘No,’ Humlin said. ‘I’m just going to kill him.’
The same evening Humlin finally had a long conversation with Andrea about their relationship. He was still fuming over the text he had read at the publishing house. He had left a number of irate messages on Lundin’s voice mail. Now he forced himself with some difficulty not to think about the thriller he was never going to write and to focus on Andrea. He immediately felt pressed into a corner.
‘You aren’t listening to me,’ she began.
He stared at her.
‘What do you mean? You haven’t said anything yet.’
‘You’re not listening.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m doing.’
‘Well, how is it going to be?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. We have a relationship. It’s been going on for many years. I want to have a child. I want you to be the father of that child. If you don’t want a child I have to ask myself if I should look around for another man.’
‘I want to have children too. I just don’t know if now is the right time.’
‘For me it is.’
‘But I am in the middle of changing my authorial profile right now. I’m not sure I can combine that with the responsibilities of fatherhood.’
‘You are never going to change anything about your profile,’ she said. ‘You are always going to be how you are right now. And important decisions regarding anyone but yourself will always be very low on your list of priorities.’
‘I don’t think this will take more than a year.’
‘That’s too long.’
‘At the very least I need a few more months.’
‘Are you going away again?’
‘I’m trying to write a book about those girls in Gothenburg.’
‘I thought the whole point was that they were going to do that for themselves? Why else are they doing this writing seminar?’
‘I’m not sure they’re up to the task of doing it themselves.’
‘Why are you doing this then?’
