Voyage 2002

"What?" she asked. "I'm saying sorry, right?" April 2002 / Benny

He was standing in the kitchen in Cirkus, grabbing a can of Coke, when he heard the door. He turned around and saw his oldest children poking their heads around the door. Peter with Nanne and the boys and Heléne.

"Hey, how nice to see you all! I didn't know you guys were here!" he said.

"It was super cool, Grandpa!" Felix said.

"Yes, did you like it?" he asked, receiving a hug from his grandson.

"I thought Ludde sang really nicely," Charlie said. "I want to participate in something like that, too!"

Peter ran his hand through his oldest son's hair for a moment. "When you're a little older, big boy!"

"How are the little ones, Heléne?" Benny asked his daughter.

"They're fine. Will you come by next month?"

"Yes, of course!" he replied. "Does the birthday girl know what she wants to have yet?"

Heléne chuckled. "As long as it's pink, it's okay."

"I will buy her a pot of pink paint. How does that sound?" he asked.

"No, we already will," Nanne said.

"Grandpa, can we have a Coke too?" Charlie asked.

"Well, of course!"

They stayed in the kitchen for a moment, chatting. He listened to their opinions about the show. Of course Heléne and Peter had also been at the premiere, but the boys had stayed home with Nanne then. Now they had gotten tickets from Görel, it turned out. Nanne and Heléne had gone to dinner together and then Peter, Charlie and Felix had joined them to see the show. Felix and Charlie were very enthusiastic and especially liked the fact that they had seen their grandfather play.

"I didn't know you were going to play the piano yourself, Dad," Peter said. "Was that planned?"

"No, not at all, but the pianist is sick and it wasn't inconvenient, so then I thought 'let me do it myself, before some substitute ruins it'."

He concealed the fact that it was ridiculously convenient, because he was walking around like a caged animal at home. Since Frida had returned to Switzerland, he was slowly going crazy. He had called and texted her every day. He had heard no word or sign from her. You didn't have to be a genius to draw the conclusion that she was avoiding him....

The night after the walk through the park, everything had suddenly been different. She had teased him, seduced him somewhat, and when he gave in, she flipped. He still didn't understand it, but the next day she had left. Dang. Gone.

She had fled; he couldn't make anything else out of it.

A conversation? No.

An explanation? That either.

At first he was stunned, then angry, then desperate and by now he was perplexed. The day after tomorrow he would probably be devilishly mad, walking through his living room crying. What on earth was so bad that they couldn't discuss it? They had known each other for almost thirty-three years and they had experienced everything together; from the nightmare of addiction to adultery, from passionate sex to intense friendship, from euphoria to deep grief. But when, on that particular night, he had let slip "Oh, Frida," thinking she wanted him as much as he wanted her, she all of a sudden had cut him off completely?

"How's it going in the studio, Benny?" asked Nanne, pulling him back to the here and now.

He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, fine," he replied. "Agge had some startup problems, but Frida fixed that."

"What was it about?" Peter asked.