The Circle (Hammer)

32



FRASSE RUNS DOWN the hall barking when the doorbell rings. His tail beats against Vanessa’s legs as she opens the door. Wille is outside with a bunch of flowers. His hair is combed back, and he’s wearing black jeans and a black shirt under his jacket. He looks mature, clean-cut and a little dressed up. Her heart melts. He really has made an effort for her. ‘You brought flowers?’

‘They’re for your mother,’ Wille says, and lets Frasse lick his hand.

Vanessa kisses him blissfully on the lips. ‘You’re the best,’ she whispers, and almost trips over the dog on the way back to the kitchen.

Her mother and Nicke are sitting at the table, waiting. Their faces are locked in rigid disapproval, which doesn’t change when Wille comes in. Only Melvin, sitting on the floor playing with his bricks, smiles.

‘Hi there, squirt.’ Wille ruffles his hair. Then he holds out the flowers to Vanessa’s mother. ‘Thank you for inviting me to dinner,’ he says.

‘Vanessa did the inviting … Thank you,’ she adds mechanically, and removes the wrapping with an explosion of rustling.

Wille shakes hands with Nicke, who leans back in his chair and looks at him with a condescending smirk. Vanessa hates him for it, but says nothing. With this dinner she’s going to prove she’s an adult, no matter what her mother and Nicke think.

Her mother rummages in the cupboard for a suitable vase. She fills it with water and puts the flowers into it. They’re gerberas, Vanessa’s favourite. They look like the flowers you see in cartoons. ‘They’re very nice,’ her mother says, and puts the vase on the table, which Vanessa has laid for dinner.

‘I’m glad you like them,’ Wille answers.

There is an awkward silence and Vanessa is glad to have something to do. She pulls on a pair of oven gloves. Hot air hits her face when she opens the oven door. The lasagne dish is so hot that it almost burns through the gloves. She bites her lip to stop herself letting out a string of swear words and sets the dish on the stove with a little bang.

‘Smells great,’ Wille says.

‘Vanessa’s been in the kitchen all day,’ her mother says, ‘and the girls were here to help earlier.’

‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ says Wille to Vanessa.

‘Me neither,’ she says, as she cuts the lasagne into individual sections.

It is bubbling and sizzling at the edges, and the cheese on top is dark brown, but the knife meets with unexpected resistance. She hopes it’s just that it’s blunt. The lasagne has been in the oven for a very long time.

She takes the salad servers out of the drawer and sticks them into the salad.

‘You have a lovely apartment,’ Wille says.

It’s such a typically grown-up thing to say. Vanessa is moved by his attempt to start up a conversation, but her mother and Nicke don’t try to help him.

‘Well, at least we have a roof over our heads,’ is all her mother says.

‘But it’s really nice. Beautiful wallpaper …’ His voice peters out.

Luckily Melvin starts whining that he’s hungry. Vanessa’s mother lifts him into the high chair and tells him that dinner’s ready. He claps his hands and everyone laughs, a little stiffly.

At last, the lasagne is steaming in the middle of the table. Salad, bread and butter are within reach of everyone. Vanessa takes her seat. She serves the first piece to Wille. He’s the guest, after all.

‘It looks delicious,’ her mother says, when Vanessa hands her a plateful.

‘Aren’t you on a diet, Jannike?’ Nicke says, and Vanessa suppresses another impulse to shout at him.

She looks at Wille nervously as he forks some lasagne into his mouth. To her horror, she thinks she hears a crunch as he chews. He makes a strange face and Vanessa can’t work out whether it’s because the food is too hot or disgusting. ‘I thought we could drink a toast to Wille’s and my engagement,’ she says. ‘I know everyone here isn’t as happy about it as Wille and I are, but I hope you’ll come round.’

Her mother raises her glass. She smiles quickly, as if she wants to get it over and done with. ‘Cheers,’ she says.

Nicke gives his beer a quick wave in the air, takes a big gulp and suppresses a burp, which he instead releases silently through his pursed lips.

Wille is drinking cola, like Vanessa, everything to emphasise that he’s a well-behaved young man. She takes a sip and meets his gaze across the table. He chews carefully and smiles at her. The atmosphere is more tense than ever. Even Melvin seems to notice. He’s poking at his food with his little fork.

Nicke and Vanessa’s mother are eating, staring at their plates as if there was something incrredibly interesting on them, like a spyhole leading all the way to China. The clinking of the cutlery seems unnaturally loud. Clink. Scrape. Squeak. Clink. Scrape. Squeak. Scrape. Clink.

Vanessa doesn’t have much appetite, but cuts a little piece of lasagne and puts it into her mouth. It’s hard and tough and has absolutely no taste. It’s the gustatory equivalent of grey. Or beige. ‘This is inedible,’ she says and pushes away her plate.

‘What are you talking about? It’s great,’ Wille says.

‘M-hm,’ her mother says, with her mouth full.

‘I’ll want seconds,’ Wille says.

Nicke walks over to the refrigerator and returns with a bottle of ketchup, which he almost empties on to his plate.

‘So,’ he says, ‘where are you working, these days, Wille?’

Wille glances at Vanessa. Nicke knows he doesn’t have a job. ‘It’s difficult to find anything in this town.’

‘Yeah, I can imagine. You left school without any qualifications, didn’t you?’ Nicke says.

‘I passed my exams,’ Wille says. He sounds embarrassed because he did it by the skin of his teeth. Vanessa wishes he was sitting next to her so she could squeeze his hand under the table.

Her mother clears her throat. ‘How’s Sirpa?’

‘She’s fine. She’s had some trouble with her neck.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ her mother says.

Vanessa wonders if her mother is thinking the same thing. That she’d said she’d rather have Sirpa as a mother.

‘She’s got a tough job,’ Vanessa’s mother says now. ‘Sometimes I think she lives at that supermarket. No matter what time I go there, she always seems to be sitting at the checkout.’

‘It’s harder than many people realise,’ Wille says.

The whole time Nicke has been gazing at Wille with open contempt. Now he turns to Vanessa’s mother and says, in a completely normal tone: ‘Of course she’s working all the time. She’s got a grown-up son to support. A strong, healthy young man she’s breaking her back for.’

The silence that settles around the table is so tense that even Melvin looks up from playing with his food. His eyes are wide and take in everything.

‘That was uncalled for,’ Vanessa’s mother says to Nicke. But she doesn’t sound upset. She doesn’t say it as though she means ‘That was unfair and I don’t agree with you,’ but more ‘That’s not the sort of thing you say when the subject can hear you.’

‘As I said,’ Wille mutters, ‘jobs are difficult to come by in this town.’

‘There’s nothing stopping you moving somewhere else,’ says Nicke. ‘Is there?’

He glances at Vanessa, but she refuses to meet his eye. She looks at Wille. They belong together. She’s never truly felt that until now. It’s the two of them against the world. And why, she asks herself, should she sit here quietly, all polite and grown-up, when the so-called adults at the table are behaving like a couple of playground bullies?

The flowers that Wille brought suddenly look pathetic in the middle of the table.

Vanessa turns to Nicke. ‘Can’t you behave like a normal human being for once?’

‘Please don’t start arguing now,’ her mother says, as if Vanessa were the one causing the trouble.

Rage explodes inside Vanessa. She can’t hold it back any longer. It’s too unfair, beyond belief. ‘Excuse me, but haven’t you by any chance noticed how Nicke’s been behaving throughout dinner? And as soon as I say something it’s me who’s acting up?’

‘Vanessa—’

‘You always take his side! You’re such a great team, you and Nicke. You can never do anything wrong. And I’m just causing trouble all the time and being a pain in the arse.’

‘We’ve got a guest here,’ her mother says.

‘Now all of a sudden you notice we’ve got a guest! But when Nicke’s having a go at my fiancé, that’s okay, is it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

It’s one of her mother’s catchphrases, normally coupled with that sad look. She thinks she’s being so f*cking clever: she doesn’t say anything straight out so she can play the innocent victim when you confront her with it.

‘F*cking hell!’ Vanessa shouts. ‘I don’t know what gave me the idea I could cook a celebratory meal, invite Wille over and think it was going to make any difference. You’ve already made up your minds.’

Her mother looks at her with big, offended eyes.

‘All you do is just sit there feeling so f*cking sorry for yourself,’ Vanessa continues, ‘but I’m the one who’s been forced to live with the fact that you’ve dragged home a succession of losers. Wille is better than any of the men you’ve ever been with. He’s a thousand times better than that one!’ She points at Nicke without looking at him.

‘Nessa mad,’ Melvin says.

‘Yes, I am,’ Vanessa says, looking at her little brother. ‘And you’re going to be mad, too, when you grow up and realise what sort of parents you have.’

‘Maybe I should go,’ Wille says.

‘Stay where you are,’ Vanessa says. ‘This is my house, too.’

‘I agree with Wille,’ Nicke says. ‘It would be better if he left.’

‘No, it would be better if you left!’

‘That’s enough, damn it!’ Nicke shouts, and pounds his fist on the table.

Melvin bursts into tears and Vanessa rushes to pick him up, but her mother beats her to it. She lifts him out of the high chair, turns his face to her chest and pats his little head. The crying gives way to bawling, drawn-out, heart-wrenching – and ear-piercing.

‘There, there,’ his mother coos, as she glares accusingly at Vanessa.

‘I’m not the one who frightened him!’

‘That’s enough, Vanessa,’ her mother says. ‘Wille, it’s probably better if you go now.’

‘See you round,’ Nicke says, with a smug smirk. ‘Down at the station, no doubt.’

‘Thanks for dinner,’ Wille says. He pushes in his chair and puts his plate on the counter.

‘I’m coming with you,’ Vanessa says.

‘You’re not going anywhere until we’ve talked this through,’ her mother says loudly, over Melvin’s howling.

Vanessa meets her gaze and feels a wave of pure hatred shoot through her. ‘Go f*ck yourself,’ she says. She walks out into the hall, where Wille is already putting on his shoes, steps into her own and wriggles into her jacket. She grabs her bag.

‘If you leave now, don’t bother to come back!’ her mother shouts.

‘I’m not going to!’ Vanessa screams back.

‘Nessa not go!’ Melvin shrieks.

She wants to put her hands over her ears. She doesn’t want to hear him now. She loves him too much. Instead she makes herself cold and hard.

She runs down the steps after Wille, looking at the back of his neck. She may be leaving her home for the last time. She convinces herself that it’s worth it – that he’s worth it.