The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,34
black wooden cross on the wall. It’s covered with small bits of silvery metal.
‘Nice,’ she says, mostly just to make conversation.
Linnéa comes and stands next to her and runs a finger over the cross. Her nails are painted with bright pink polish that is starting to wear away. ‘Elias gave it to me. It’s from Mexico. See these little symbols? They’re all the things that this cross is supposed to protect against. Here’s a broken leg, for example. Crying eyes … and a sick horse.’
Vanessa laughs nervously and pretends to look, but the only thing she’s aware of is how close to her Linnéa is standing, so close that Vanessa can feel the warmth of her body through the blanket. Linnéa’s mobile rings again. ‘What the fuck,’ she hisses. She goes back to it and rejects the call.
‘Who keeps calling?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Just a guy who refuses to understand when to stop.’
Vanessa sees a flash of something in Linnéa’s eyes. Something that looks like … pity? She feels queasy and has to look away. She’s suddenly realised who’s calling, but won’t humiliate herself by asking. ‘Oh, yeah?’ is all she says.
‘Go and see what you can find in my wardrobe,’ says Linnéa, pointing towards the bedroom door.
The blinds are down and Vanessa fumbles along the wall till she finds the light switch. The bed is wide and unmade. But what catches Vanessa’s eye is the sewing-machine on the floor next to a workbench stacked with different fabrics and jars of thread and buttons.
‘You sew?’ she asks Linnéa, who’s just coming into the room.
Linnéa gives a quick nod, and Vanessa sees it was a stupid question. What else would she do with a sewing-machine? What is it about Linnéa that makes her feel everything she says comes out wrong?
‘There’s a mirror inside the wardrobe door,’ says Linnéa, and hands her a packet of wipes.
Vanessa opens the wardrobe. Everything in there looks like something from a Japanese horror version of Alice in Wonderland. No matter what she puts on she’ll look as if she’s on her way to a costume ball dressed as Linnéa.
‘Take whatever you want,’ Linnéa says, and walks out.
The phone rings four times in the living room. Linnéa doesn’t answer it.
The clothes hangers clatter as Vanessa flips through the outfits. Eventually she picks the most neutral one she can find: a black skirt, a white top and a knitted black sweater made of a fluffy yarn. She gets dressed, wipes off her makeup and removes the bits of forest from her hair. She looks almost half decent now .
‘I’ll give you back your clothes at school tomorrow. Today, I mean,’ Vanessa says, as she goes back into the living room, holding her blanket.
Linnéa is lying crashed out on the sofa, her feet draped on one of the armrests.
‘I’m going to stay at home today. But it’s cool, we can do it another time,’ she says drowsily.
Another time, Vanessa thinks. Yup. From now on we’ll be forced to spend time with each other.
She and Linnéa, Minoo and Anna-Karin, Rebecka and Ida. If the salvation of the world depends on their ability to work together, well, unfortunately things look pretty fucked. Sorry, billions of people living on earth, Ida Holmström is all that stands between you and destruction.
‘Christ, I hate her,’ Linnéa mumbles.
‘Who?’
‘Ida. If evil is coming after us, I hope it takes her first,’ says Linnéa. A little smile plays at the corners of her mouth. Vanessa catches herself grinning back. They look at each other for a moment.
‘It’s Wille who keeps calling you, isn’t it?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Yeah.’
‘Have you … have you started seeing each other again?’
Seconds pass. Linnéa sits up slowly.
‘No.’
‘So what does he want?’
Linnéa drops her gaze.
‘Just tell me, okay?’ Vanessa asks, making her voice as hard and fierce as she can to hide her fear. Is Wille angry with her for running off? Is that why he’s calling Linnéa now? Is that what he usually does when they’ve had a tiff? If he’s still in love with Linnéa, I’ll die, she thinks.
‘He’s angry with me,’ Linnéa says.
Vanessa stares at her. ‘What?’
‘It’s hard to explain. We fought all the time when we were together. Sometimes he gets it into his head that we’ve still got things to sort out. Like, why I said whatever it was that time a hundred years ago. Silly stuff.’
It’s unlike Wille to get so caught up in the past. He doesn’t even spend much time thinking about the present.