Alicia had had her fair share of proper booze-ups in the past, but this one really was something else. It was the mother of intoxication—the original that all other forms of inebriation merely resembled.
The disaster had begun with a couple of beers at Palermo, escalated when she made the moronic decision to sleep with the leader of a biker gang, and ended with her falling asleep in a snowdrift on her way home from his apartment.
According to her medical records, her body temperature had been 31 degrees Celsius when she arrived unconscious in the emergency room at Karlstad’s Central Hospital. The last snapshot Alicia could recall from that night was a barking dog. Well, more a snap sound, if you were being pedantic. She had been unable to open her eyes.
When she had come to, there was a weird, inflatable blanket covering her. It had been connected to a machine on the floor pumping in warm air. Her face had deceived the young doctor in the intensive care unit. He had initially believed her injuries were related to her icy state and had been ashamed when Alicia told him they were old.
The day had then passed in a haze of sleep and nausea. Not until now, when darkness had once again fallen beyond the window, did she feel some-what better. According to the display at her bedside, her body temperature was up to 36.2 degrees.
A nurse popped her head round the door and informed her she had a visitor. Alicia had already known it was Stella from the sound of high heels in the corridor. She had given the hospital staff her sister’s number when they’d asked if there was anyone they should call.
Stella swept into the room in her brown cashmere coat. The scent of perfume overwhelmed the sterile smell of disinfectant. She sat down on the chair by the bed and Alicia took her hand. It felt warm compared with her own body, which was still defrosting.
“I was on the train from Stockholm when they called from the hospital. You really scared me this time. You could have died—do you understand that?”
Of course Alicia understood. The doctor had told her more than once.
“What actually happened?” Stella said.
Alicia struggled to look her sister in the eye. It went against the grain to tell her. How many times had they wound up in this situation? Stella sitting there looking worried on a chair next to a bed in an institution, and her under the covers like the black sheep she was.
“I had a bit too much to drink,” she said.
“A bit too much?”
“Okay, much too much.”
“Were you at that loathsome dive?”
“If it’s Palermo you’re referring to, then yes.”
Alicia tried to picture her sister among the patrons at her regular haunt. It was difficult—frankly impossible. Stella was tall and slim, although she didn’t lack curves for all that. Her straight hair was naturally blonde and framed a symmetrical face with high cheekbones. As a child, she had flipped through fashion magazines at the grocery store checkout and practiced striking the same poses as the models in the photos.
“How did the TV interview go?”
Stella let go of Alicia’s hand and leaned back in the chair.
“Good, I think. At least that’s how it felt.”
“What time will it be on?”
“Seven o’clock.”
“Where are you going to watch?” said Alicia.
“At the office. The rest of the management team were going on about how we should have staff drinks after work. What a pity you can’t join us. You’re going to be here until tomorrow, right?”
“I don’t know. They haven’t said anything.”
Alicia looked around the bare room with its medical equipment monitoring every function of her body. The walls were hospital white with last year’s calendar from the doctors’ union still hanging from a nail. One thing was for certain: she didn’t want to spend the night here.
Stella demanded to know more about what had actually happened the night before, and after a little persuasion, Alicia disclosed a few well-chosen details. The visit to the President’s home was something she opted to omit. The way she had behaved was embarrassing and pathetic.
“My God,” Stella said when Alicia was done. “You’ve got to take better care of yourself. We need you. I need you.”
Her sister’s anxious eyes made Alicia’s skin burn with shame.
“Is there any reason why this happened now in particular?” she said.
Alicia slowly shook her head. She knew where Stella was eager to go. Missteps like this were often a sign that she was overworked. And episodes like that always ended in the same way—with a crash landing.
“No, I feel fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I just ended up in a ditch by accident. It was a one-time thing.”
“You know that you have to tell me if you’re going to hit the wall again.”
“Don’t worry. Everything feels much better since we postponed the launch in Germany. Yesterday I left work at two o’clock. Perhaps that’s the problem—that I haven’t got enough to do.”
Alicia tried to flash a smile. Her sister reciprocated without seeming convinced. She stood up, removed her coat, and hung it over the back of the chair. Only now did Alicia note the choice of attire. Unless she was mistaken, Stella was wearing the Gaultier dress—the one with the black pearls that she had just bought.
“Nice,” she said, in an attempt to change the subject.
“Thanks. It’s the first time I’ve worn it out.”
“Did you wear it for the interview?”
“No. I wore the red one for that. But I thought I’d wear this one tonight.”
Alicia raised her eyebrows. “At staff drinks?”
“No . . . well, yes. Then too, I guess.”
“So you’re going on somewhere else afterward?”
“Might be.”
Stella smiled and ran her fingers with their perfect nails through her hair. She moved her head from side to side and her long hair billowed out like in a shampoo commercial.
“Who is it?” said Alicia.
Her sister looked exhilarated and troubled all at once. As if she wanted to say but wasn’t sure whether she should. It was unlike Stella. She usually never withheld details of her racy love life.
“Come on, sis. Who deserves that dress?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Stella said. “The person in question probably won’t care how I’m dressed anyway.”
Alicia looked at her in surprise. “No? What do you mean by that?”
“Well, it gave you something to think about, didn’t it?”
“And that’s why I’m asking—because I’m thinking about it.”
Stella smiled secretively. She avoided answering as the nurse came in and adjusted the inflatable blanket.
“Are you feeling better now? Your body needs to rest, so it would be great if you could close your eyes for a while.”
Alicia nodded compliantly and the white-clad woman hurried on down the corridor.
Stella picked up her coat and leaned over the bed.
“You heard what she said—you need to get some sleep. Take care of yourself and tell them to call me again if you need anything.”
She gently pressed her lips to the scarred cheek. Alicia gritted her teeth and held her breath. No one else dared to touch her face like that. On the way out, her sister turned in the doorway.
“Black Tantra,” she said. “That’s why the clothes don’t matter.”
If Alicia hadn’t been so tired she would have laughed. Stella was like a child in so many ways. Secrets bubbled away inside her until at last she could no longer contain them.
“And what the hell is that?” said Alicia.
“You find out. You’re the genius out of the two of us.”