WHEN SHE OPENED her eyes, she was in hospital. It was a sober observation, and Jeanette didn’t want to be sober. She didn’t want to be awake either, or in hospital. She had planned to be somewhere else by now, so she shut her eyes and took her leave again.
The next time she woke up, her gaze fell on Lubbi and Nanna who were each sitting in a chair by the bed, talking in low voices. As soon as he spotted that she was conscious, Lubbi leaned forward and took her hand.
“We’re here, sweetheart,” he said softly. “No need to be afraid.”
Jeanette sighed and switched her gaze to an undefined spot up on the ceiling. She had nothing to say. Why couldn’t everything just stop? That would have been an adequate end to the whole thing.
“Do you believe in God and heaven and all that?” Lubbi asked.
Jeanette shook her head without looking at him.
“Then I suggest you stay down here with us. We’re here for you—you know that. And we’re not going to let go of you that easily.”
“How . . .?” Jeanette whispered.
But she couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence—she wasn’t really that interested in the answer.
“How did we know?” said Lubbi. “We probably saw the same thing you did, I guess. It was Nanna who . . . We tried to call, but you weren’t picking up. So we went round to yours. Knocked on the street door, shouted and made a fuss until the neighbours came out and asked what was going on. But you still weren’t answering. It felt bad.”
“I’m a deep sleeper,” Jeanette said quietly.
She thought to herself that it was a real spectacle she had caused, given that she had tried to be anonymous in that block of flats where suspicious looks followed her whenever she came and went. Couldn’t a person be left in peace?
“The bottle was empty, Jeanette. Don’t lie—not to us. I thought you’d quit that shit?”
“I just needed . . . to calm down a bit.”
Lubbi shook his head, let go of her hand, and leaned back in his chair. He looked horrified, and Nanna was next to him watching her with an inscrutable expression. Jeanette didn’t even have it in her to cry. She felt like everyone was staring at her, and all she wanted was to disappear from here.
“How exactly did you get inside?” she asked, trying to summon something else in those watchful eyes except pity.
“We broke in,” said Lubbi. “After some persuading, we got one of your neighbours to give us a crowbar, so we forced the door. We were almost done when the police showed up, so they actually let us finish the job. Can you picture that . . . the police standing there cheering me on as I break into a flat? Fuck me, there’s a first time for everything.”
Jeanette’s lips twitched into a smile. It seemed to infect her two observers, who both perked up a little. Lubbi bent over her and brushed his lips against her forehead before sitting back down on his chair.
“Come on, girl,” he said, gently punching her bicep. “Don’t do this to us again. You’re hurting us, don’t you understand that?”
No, perhaps she didn’t. As usual, she was mostly thinking about herself. She hadn’t realised that her actions affected others. Or that there were people to whom she actually meant something. Despite the fact that they didn’t really mean much to her. Other than providing her with daily distraction.
The people who were important to Jeanette were all gone.