The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,85
we did the shopping for you while you were clearing up. Or have you forgotten that?’
‘Why don’t you shut up?’ Vanessa blurts out. When she sees Evelina’s angry face, she adds: ‘Sorry! I’m so nervous.’
Evelina’s expression softens into sympathy, while Michelle gets up and comes over to them. ‘Tell me what to do,’ she says.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Evelina says.
Vanessa feels enormous bubbling love for her friends – her real friends, whom she barely has time to see any more – before stress takes over again and she picks up the recipe. ‘Michelle, could you “peel the carrots and the celeriac”, only not the celeriac obviously. Evelina, could you “chop everything very finely”?’
Like good little soldiers they position themselves along the counter with their implements and the carrots.
‘So, how do you think it’ll go?’ Michelle asks.
She peels as slowly as she talks, one rasping pull of the peeler at a time. Vanessa wants to snatch the carrot out of her hand, but instead stirs the sauce slowly and carefully, trying to breathe at the same pace.
‘Nicke hates Wille. He thinks Wille’s, like, a total criminal,’ she says. ‘And my mother believes everything Nicke says. Plus she hates the idea of my getting engaged.’
It’s become clear that her mother has only tolerated Wille up till now because she thought things wouldn’t last. But since the engagement she’s been in a total panic and has become intensely anti-Wille. She goes on about how Vanessa’s too young to be making momentous decisions, as if she hadn’t made an even more momentous decision when she was sixteen and got pregnant with the first drunken screw that came along.
Vanessa hopes this evening can be the start of something new. She’s going to make this goddamn lasagne. It’s going to taste great, and everyone will be impressed that Vanessa is much more grown-up than they’d realised. And Wille is going to charm her mother. He’s promised to make an effort.
‘Well, Wille is a drug dealer,’ Michelle points out. ‘Nicke, like, arrested him.’
‘That wasn’t for dealing drugs. It was for smoking dope in Storvall Park,’ Evelina objects.
‘My mother thinks that if you smoke once, you turn into, like, a crack-whore the very next day,’ Michelle says. ‘She always thinks I’m doing drugs. I mean, like, if I happen to be a bit tired it’s “Are you doing drugs?” Or if I’m annoyed or too happy, “Are you on drugs?” She’s on at me whenever I behave in a way she thinks a normal person shouldn’t.’
‘My parents are exactly the same,’ Evelina says.
‘They must have been made in the same factory as my mum,’ Vanessa says.
Michelle grins. She starts talking about a new haircut she’s thinking of having, then she and Evelina launch into a deep discussion about the pros and cons of a fringe. Vanessa works hard not to scream with boredom.
Ordinarily, Michelle’s hair would have been a normal topic of conversation, not all that exciting but acceptable. Now it’s difficult for Vanessa to show any interest in such things when there are so many more important things on her to-do list: She has to (1) save the onion that’s in danger of burning in the frying-pan; (2) save her future with Wille by making a perfect lasagne; and (3) save the world.
The latter really ought to be her main focus but, compared to the other things, it doesn’t seem quite as urgent at the moment.
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.