34
Nora lay stretched out on her back, then rolled over onto her stomach close beside him. She was still breathing hard and her back, which was shiny with sweat, was rising and falling rapidly. “No doubt you have a baker in every small town,” she said between breaths. She rested her head on his chest. He put his arm around her, held her close.
He looked down at her. “No, only in every medium-size town. So you’re the exception.”
She laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Thanks, I’m flattered.”
Henrik felt a strange emptiness in his heart, knowing that filming would soon be over. He would leave, with no plans to return to V?stervik. This thing between them was so different—definitely not just a fake romance for the cameras. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed too soon to end things, leaving the possibilities unexplored. He tilted her chin up, met her gaze. “I like you, Nora.”
She grinned. “I like you too.”
“I know this could make things awkward, given that we’re working together.”
“But you’ve been in this situation before, haven’t you?” she said teasingly.
The question put him on his guard. “What do you mean?”
“I was thinking about Bente.”
“Ah.” His ex was the last person he wanted to think about right now; he wanted to concentrate on Nora.
“How did you handle it? The cheating? Was it tough to get over her?”
He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t given any more thought to what Elnaz had told him; Nora had showed up and taken his mind off Bente.
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “Maybe that was too personal a question—it’s got nothing to do with me.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s ...” He sat up, looked at her. What the hell was he supposed to say, when he had no idea how to deal with what he had just been told? “I found out this evening that Bente didn’t cheat on me.”
Nora sat up too. “You found out this evening? But ... why did it take so long?”
“She swore she hadn’t cheated on me at the time, but I refused to believe her.”
“Oh my God—so what happened this evening?”
“I’m not sure how much you know about what went on, but photos were taken of Bente and Frederic. Elnaz was there at the time, and she assured me that absolutely nothing went on between Bente and Frederic.”
“To think of everything Bente went through ...”
Henrik nodded. He didn’t really want to face up to that, because he was so ashamed of the way the press had treated her. “I have to do something, tell the truth.”
“Yes, you do,” Nora agreed.
When the news about Bente’s infidelity broke, Let’s Get Baking ’s ratings had shot up, and he’d gotten several offers from other shows—judging baking competitions, morning TV appearances. Meanwhile, Bente had lost her TV career outright. And he had kept quiet, watched it happen.
“Why didn’t you believe her?”
“I ... I don’t really know. I ...” He searched for the right words, looked out the window at the darkness. “I guess it reinforced my own self-image. Everything my father had always said about me was confirmed as soon as I found out she’d cheated on me; it was almost as if I’d been waiting for it. In my defense, she looked deeply in love in those photographs. She and Frederic had a long history together. It was just easier to believe that what I’d thought all along was true.”
“And what had you thought all along?”
“I guess I’d been waiting for her to realize that she didn’t want me.”
Nora gazed at him for a long time. “But why? Does that have something to do with your father as well?”
He looked away. She already seemed to know more about him than anyone else ever had.
“Well, as soon as something goes my way, my father tries to take me down a notch. That’s what happened with Bente. As soon as my father saw that my relationship with her was boosting my TV career, he told me it would never last. Every time I have an idea of my own, he undermines me.”
“In what way?”
“He’s ... He’s always found ways to humiliate his children, whenever we’ve tried to go our own way without his blessing. Like the dog thing.” He fell silent, wishing he could take back those words.
“The dog thing?” She raised her eyebrows.
He had never told anyone about it. He had discussed it with his mother once, because she had been there at the time. He looked at Nora, wondering how she would react to this story. Would he come across as trying to win sympathy points? But the story revealed a great deal about both Henrik and his father. The dog thing had become a symbol for all the humiliation and bullying that he and his siblings had endured over the years. Maybe Nora would understand him better if he shared his story?
He would never forget that late-spring day at his childhood home. They had eaten dinner on the patio among the lilacs in the evening sun, seated around the big white wooden table. Henrik was fourteen, Tom was twelve, and Camilla would soon turn nine. Henrik had just finished a school project on political ideologies, and had said at dinner that he believed the significance of money was exaggerated. Henrik put forward the idea that money didn’t mean anything. He didn’t remember his exact words, but he did remember his father’s wolfish grin.
“So money isn’t everything?” Hasse stared intently at Henrik, then at Tom, then Camilla. “You do realize you can say that because you grew up with plenty of money?”
Henrik didn’t answer.
“So kids—how about a little competition?” Hasse went on.
Henrik never turned down a challenge, but he knew this wasn’t going to be fun. Tom and Camilla seemed to feel the same way, judging by their silence.
“Hasse, please.” Mom looked up from the boiled cod on her plate.
“Someone could win ten thousand kronor!” Hasse said, ignoring his wife.
“What?” Tom’s jaw dropped, and beside him Camilla let out a gasp. Henrik’s eyes widened.
“I’d like you to crawl across the garden on all fours, barking like dogs. Fastest wins.”
Tom laughed.
“I’m not joking,” Hasse said, putting down his knife and fork. The clatter of the cutlery on the plate was the only sound in the still evening air. Hasse wiped his mouth with his napkin, set it down, and looked at them, one after the other. “I’m going to throw a stick, you bark like dogs and go after it on all fours. The one who reaches the stick first and picks it up in their mouth wins.”
“Hasse, is this really necessary?” Mom’s expression was reproachful.
“It’s entirely voluntary.” He got to his feet, went over to a lilac bush, broke off a thin branch, and stripped off the leaves and flowers. “Okay, who’s in?”
Mom slammed down her knife and fork, stood up, and marched into the house.
The siblings laughed and looked at one another as if it were a game, as if they were trying to convince one another that this would be fun.
Henrik realized that his point about money not being important would be completely lost, but ten thousand kronor was a stunning amount of money. He wouldn’t need a summer job, wouldn’t even need a part-time job for the rest of the year. And besides, it was just a game, wasn’t it?
But he was too old to pretend to be a dog, and Tom would never play a game like that. The only one who still did that kind of thing was Camilla, but she, too, realized that something was amiss, and her eyes darted between her two brothers.
“I am,” Tom said.
“Me too.” Henrik felt his morale and his values evaporate as he uttered those words.
“And me,” Camilla said firmly.
“Good.” Hasse positioned himself on the edge of the terrace, took a deep breath, and hurled the stick toward the other side of the garden. They heard a soft thud as it landed on the grass.
No one moved.
Hasse looked at them. “What are you waiting for? Down on all fours—off you go!”
They exchanged dubious looks, and then Tom dropped to the ground and let out a quiet bark.
“Louder—otherwise it doesn’t count!” Hasse said.
Henrik dropped to the ground, followed by Camilla. Tom already had a five-yard lead, but Henrik sped across the lawn. “Woof, woof!” He had longer arms and legs than his brother, and quickly reduced the distance between them.
Camilla was some distance behind; he could hear her barking.
The smell of freshly cut grass tickled his nostrils. They had reached the gravel path now; Henrik was only a couple of feet behind Tom.
“Louder!” their father yelled.
The heat of the sun on his back made him sweat, and the gravel was scraping his knees. But he kept going. Why? For the money, or because their father was issuing orders? He didn’t really know.
Camilla gave up; the boys were too far ahead.
Henrik extended his arms, moved his legs faster, his knees torn to shreds. He was level with Tom now, and the stick was only a couple of yards away. Henrik hurled himself forward, grabbed it between his teeth, growled when Tom caught up with him, and rolled away so that Tom wouldn’t be able to take the stick from him.
Henrik lay on his back on the grass, panting.
The competition was over.
“Congratulations, Henrik.” Hasse came and stood over him. “And never forget that people will do anything for money.”
When Henrik had finished telling his story, Nora gazed at him, then drew him close. He rested his head against her breast. She didn’t say anything, but after revealing something so deeply personal, so humiliating, it was nice just to be near her.
“I guess the point of the story is that my father has made me believe everything he says, made me do virtually whatever he wants. If he says that a project is doomed to failure, then I believe him, and I fail. If he says a relationship won’t last, I believe him. I see the slightest setback as confirmation of my incompetence.”
Nora shook her head. “And now he wants to kill Let’s Get Baking ?”
Henrik nodded.
“What does your sister think about this? She represents both you and your father, doesn’t she?”
“She does. She just says our father has handled all communication with TV24—she hasn’t had anything to do with it. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to be dragged into our dispute.”
“But you haven’t let him win—you’ve fought back. I think you’re well on the way to freeing yourself from your father.”
He nodded slowly; maybe she was right. Then he realized that she was a big part of it. He had learned so much from her. She was so strong, so capable. And she was right about his father—Henrik’s relationship with him was destructive, and he really had to free himself of it.
What was it about Nora that made him open up to her like this? He didn’t want to leave V?stervik next week. It was too soon. And he didn’t want whatever it was that they had between them to end. It had only just begun.