I look at Odd Kåre. I want to get out of here, I can’t stay here any longer, but I just sit here. “What’s wrong, Ma?” Odd Kåre asks. “Nothing,” I say, smiling at him. “It’s just that you’ve gone a bit funny,” Odd Kåre says. “Oh, I’ve always been a bit funny,” I say and I try to give a little laugh, and I hear how sad my laugh sounds, it’s a bitter, painful laugh, a laugh that falls aching from my lips, but Odd Kåre doesn’t catch the note of pain, he’s not made that way, Odd Kåre, he’s not sensitive enough to catch that sort of thing. “Oh, Christ, you’re right there,” he says, laughing back at me, a loud, happy laugh, he’s happy because he’s managed to scrounge my money off me, he’s delighted that he’s managed to talk me into giving him an advance on the money he’s got coming to him.
I look at him, and I don’t like him, I do so want to like him, but I can’t. What sort of a mother am I when I can’t bring myself to like my son? I suppose it was true what people said about me back then, I don’t suppose I’ve ever really loved Odd Kåre, or at least not the way other mothers love their children, well, what sort of a mother would do what I did? I shut my eyes and let Johan carry on with his dirty business, for years he was left to carry on with his dirty business, for years I failed Odd Kåre. I thought I could make up for it by being nice and kind. All the terrible things Odd Kåre got up to I let him get away with and everything he pointed to I let him have, as if it did any good, all it did was make matters worse, that’s why he’s turned out the way he has, that’s what turned him into the sort of person who can come here and scrounge money off me. He doesn’t care about me at all, he’s only interested in my money, and I’ve only got myself to thank for that. I’ve got the son I deserve, it’s my own fault that I’ve got a son I can’t like, I do so want to like him, but I can’t, he’s so hard to like, he’s greedy and brash and rude and I’m crying inside, crying and crying, and I want to get out of here, I want to get away, but I don’t go anywhere, I just sit here, and Odd Kåre and Johnny are looking at me and it’s very quiet, and now I have to say something, I don’t know what to say, but I have to say something, and I look at Johnny and give him a faint smile.
“So, how’s school, Johnny?” I ask. It just slips out. I’m asking exactly the same thing as I asked him only minutes ago, asking the very question that started that awful argument. They sat there arguing for a good few minutes all because Johnny has dropped out of school, and yet here I am asking him how he’s getting on at school.
Johnny gazes at me in surprise and Odd Kåre gazes at me in surprise, they exchange a quick glance and then they turn to me again and I look at them and smile. I’m just about to apologize, I’m just about to sigh and say, “Oh no, of course, I just asked you that,” but I don’t. I don’t know why not, but I just sit there looking at them, still smiling, and they just sit and look at me, and Odd Kåre’s brow furrows slightly.
“Ma, we just told you – Johnny’s dropped out of school,” he says, sounding a bit taken aback and frowning at me, and I look at him and swallow, still smiling. “Oh, yes,” is all I say, then I pause for a moment. “That’s right, so you did,” I say with a sad little laugh, a laugh that’s somehow meant to make light of the whole thing, laugh as if I’m trying to hide how forgetful I am. I don’t know why I do this, I just do. “It’s so nice that you could come too, Johnny,” I say. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” I say. “And you look so like your dad now. With a beard, and such lovely plump cheeks,” I say. “So nice and chubby,” I say, and I give a little start as the words leave my mouth, and Odd Kåre and Johnny seem to to start as well, because yet again I’m saying exactly what I said only minutes ago, yet again I’m repeating something that started an argument between them. They stare at me, then they turn and look at one another, and now they’re wondering whether I’ve gone dotty. I can tell by their faces that they think I have. After a moment they turn to me again and I look at Johnny, still smiling, and this time he doesn’t look angry with me for saying that he’s fairly filled out. He just sits there looking a little confused, and this time Odd Kåre doesn’t try to make fun of Johnny for having filled out, no, he just sits there frowning at me.
There’s silence for a moment or two. But why am I doing this? Why am I turning into a dotty old woman before their eyes? Is it because I want attention? Is it because I want them to look at me and feel sorry for me? Or could it be because I’d like to start again? Is that why I’m asking the same questions that I asked before they started arguing and falling out? Am I trying to go back to a point before they started arguing, so we can start again and make this the sort of visit I would like it to be? I don’t know, I really don’t, but I look at Johnny and I keep going. “You’re looking fitter and healthier than you used to,” I tell Johnny. “You used to be so thin,” I say, saying exactly what I had been meaning to say before they started arguing. It’s like I’ve jumped back a few minutes and started again. I’ve rubbed out their arguing and fighting and they’re just sitting there staring at me in confusion. They think I’m going dotty and I just let them think that and I look at them and smile.
Then out of the blue I say: “Can you forgive me, Odd Kåre?” It just slips out and I give a start as it slips out, because suddenly I’ve started talking about this thing that we never talk about, and there’s silence for a moment and I look at Odd Kåre and my heart starts to beat a little harder and my pulse starts to race a little faster. “Huh?” Odd Kåre says. “Can you forgive me?” I say again, and I look at him, still smiling, and Odd Kåre looks at me, but he’s not smiling, because now he realizes what I’m talking about, I can tell by his face that he does, his face goes dead, it turns white, it stiffens, and Johnny looks at Odd Kåre and frowns.
“What’s the matter?” Johnny says, but Odd Kåre doesn’t look at Johnny, he doesn’t take his eyes off me, because now I’ve opened a door that neither of us has ever dared open before, I’ve plucked up my courage and said what I should have said long ago. Maybe that’s why I suddenly started acting dotty, maybe it was because I needed someone to say what I’d never been able to say myself. Maybe that’s why I turned myself into a dotty old woman, maybe I needed that dotty old woman to ask forgiveness for me. I don’t know, I really don’t, but here I am, asking Odd Kåre for forgiveness.
For a moment everything is very quiet, then the little girls start playing the piano again. They’ve sat down at the piano and now they’re playing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” again. And I look at Odd Kåre and smile. Now Odd Kåre has to walk through the open door with me, he has to step into that room that we’ve never entered before. He has to do this, for his own sake and for mine he has to. This has been eating away at me all these years and I would so like to find peace of mind before I die, that’s all I want. I look at Odd Kåre and smile and the girls play “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and now Odd Kåre has to walk with me through the open door, but he won’t, he won’t come with me.
“What are you talking about?” Odd Kåre asks with what’s meant to be an astonished laugh, but what comes out isn’t an astonished laugh, it’s an angry laugh, there’s so much anger in that laugh. “Huh?” he says, looking at me, and there’s anger in his eyes too. He’s trying not to let it show, but it’s no use. “Please, Odd Kåre,” I say, still with that smile on my face, and I feel my smile sagging, feel the corners of my mouth drooping, and the girls play “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and I look at Odd Kåre. And now he has to go along with me on this, he has to come with me, but he doesn’t, he won’t.
“Aw, stop your nonsense,” Odd Kåre snaps, narrowing his eyes and screwing up his face, then he opens his eyes again. He looks straight at me and there’s blind fury in his eyes. He stares at me for a moment then he looks at the table, just for a split second, then he looks up again and turns, scans the dayroom, like he’s searching for something or someone in the dayroom. “Thought I might get a refill of coffee,” he says and then he pauses, trying to pull himself together, I suppose that’s what he’s doing.
After a moment he turns to me again. He seems to have pulled himself together a bit, he doesn’t look angry any more. “Can we just help ourselves, do you think?” he asks. “Oh, I don’t see why not,” I say, and I look at him and smile, but the corners of my mouth are drooping more and more and my smile is getting fainter and fainter, and I’m crying and crying inside, and the moments go by, but I really don’t want to be here any longer, I want to get out of here, I want to get away. “Oh, never mind, we’ll just wait till the auxiliary comes back,” Odd Kåre says. “She can’t be too far away.” “No, she can’t be,” I say. “But I need to go to the toilet,” I say. “So I can pop my head into the staffroom on the way and say to her.” I look at Odd Kåre and Johnny and smile, and my smile is faint and sad and the girls are playing ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star’ and another moment goes by and then I place my hands on the arms of the chair and try to get up.
“Hang on. Let me help you,” Odd Kåre says, jumping up. He slips one hand under my armpit and the other under my forearm and eases me up out of the chair. “Thank you, that’s kind of you,” I say, looking at him and smiling and Odd Kåre sits down again and I start to walk away. I shuffle stiffly across the room, look at Sylvia and her family and smile, look at Therese and smile. “Hey, isn’t that the lad that used to live across the bay from you?” Therese asks, scowling at me and pointing at a picture in the paper, but I don’t feel like stopping now, I don’t feel like talking to Therese about some lad right now. I pretend not to realize it’s me she’s talking to and just walk on past her. I walk out of the dayroom and along the corridor, I walk past the staffroom and the toilet, I’m just walking away. It’s hard to believe it, but I am. I walk down to the entrance hall and across to the door, and I see that the door is wide open, I see that the sun is shining. But who’s that coming in? Well I never, it’s Harald Hansen with his accordion slung over his shoulders, well, well, what do you know, fancy him showing up right now. But I don’t feel like talking to anybody right now, I’d like a little time to myself right now. Oh, well, it’s a good thing he’s only arriving now and not ten minutes ago really, it’s a good thing he didn’t arrive while Odd Kåre and Johnny were going at it hammer and tongs, oh yes, because if he had it would have been even more unpleasant than it was, I’m sure. Harald’s not exactly the sort to hold his tongue when he gets his dander up, he’d have read the riot act, I’ll bet. He can get awful steamed up on behalf of us old folk.
He looks at me and smiles, and I look at him and smile back. “Well, well,” I say, “if it isn’t the pensioners’ champion.” And Harald looks at me and laughs. “Yes, I’ve got to inspect the troops before we go into battle, you know,” he says. “And a right sorry sight that’ll be, Harald,” I say. “Oh no, don’t say that,” he says. “Well, they’re all pretty worn and battered, already, your troops, so I sincerely hope you’ve got some more in reserve,” I say and I let out a little laugh. And Harald laughs too, he puts out a hand and pats me gently on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, I always have,” he laughs. “Right then, talk to you later, Paula,” he says. “Right you are,” I say.
And Harald walks on. I wait until he has disappeared down the corridor, then I walk on as well. I walk out into the sunshine. I’m in just my slippers, but I walk across the car park and out onto the road and I walk down the road. The grey, sun-baked tarmac burns the soles of my feet, what on earth am I doing? Am I really doing this, just walking away? Well, Odd Kåre and Johnny are really going to think I’ve gone dotty now. “She did a bunk while we were visiting her,” they’ll say. “Said she was going to the toilet and off she went,” they’ll say. “Walked out in just her slippers,” they’ll say. I feel my spirits lift a little at this thought, the sadness seems to gradually drain out of me, because it feels so right somehow, me turning into a dotty old woman while they’re here. It feels both right and good, I don’t quite know why, but it does. And I walk on, I walk down the hill. There’s a warm breeze sweeping in from the right, a warm breeze that carries with it the lovely, fresh scent of sea and shore, and I walk on, I walk up the hill to the church, I walk and walk. People must be wondering where I’ve got to by now, they may even be looking for me, they may be searching the care home for me. It’s too bad really that they have to go looking for me, they’ve enough to do as it is, the staff there, without having to spend time and energy looking for me as well. But I walk on, I don’t know where I’m going, I’m not going anywhere in particular, I’m just walking, and up the hill on the right is the church, and I walk into the churchyard. It’s like pushing a boat out from shore, I think to myself, me just walking aimlessly like this, me turning myself into a dotty old woman, it’s like pushing a boat out from the shore and letting yourself drift with the current. And it feels right to do this. I don’t know why, but it feels right and good.