Thursday February 11, 2021

Part two

Mark:

It’s 11 at night and I’m about to go outside to have a chat with a friend about a relationship issue she’s having and that she wants to talk about. That’s what I innocently think as I close the front door and confront the cold. But this is a marriage. And it becomes clear pretty quickly that I have a scared girl on the other end of the line. I’m not going to get through this one by just listening like I did the other night. But what to say? I have no idea. So I just listen. As I do, it becomes clear that Maja really does want a way out. That could be simple enough, I think. If you really, really want to. Just leave. Pack, go and sort out the details later. This is where we hit a bump in the road. She says she has nowhere to go.

I decide to push a little on this one. Get another apartment? I hear a bitter laugh through the icy phone. She’s already looked into that, she says. Do I have any idea how hard it is to get an apartment in Stockholm? I’ll assume that’s a rhetorical question. OK. A friend’s place somewhere? That’s been looked into already. Nothing works. Surely you can stay with your mum? With this question I realise what it is I’m actually doing and it’s so far beyond ridiculous I try to push the thought out of my mind. But it got there all by itself and it’s deciding it isn’t going anywhere. I’m seeing the whole situation and realising I actually have an exit to offer. But I’m not going to offer it until I know all options have been explored. She says that maybe, just maybe, the mum idea could work for a while, but she’s very clear that it wouldn’t be sustainable for more than any longer period of time. I start to see where we’re at. It would not be a cosy arrangement. Not at all. From what I understand, it will be a hard sell of a one way ticket back to the place she’s trying to escape from.

I truly can’t believe where my mind is going, but the facts are these. We have a room about to come available in our place, from February 19. One week from today actually. Someone was interested in it and we all thought that was a done deal. But the guy unexpectedly pulled out a few days ago. So it’s still free. With that, I realise I can offer Maja at least the possibility of an escape so that she might not feel so trapped. After she’s finished talking to me about what a no-no living with her mum would be, I realise she’s out of options and I have to offer mine. But will I really? Can I really? Can I say those words? It’s one of the most ridiculous ideas I’ve ever thought of and is sure to be met with hollow laughter and a reply along the lines of, ‘I’m not just going to up and move to London.’ But really, what I’m really thinking is that mentioning this as even the vaguest of possibilities will give Maja a new feeling of control because she’ll know she can now change the situation if she wants to. I think the offer of somewhere else, no matter how implausible, could remove the feeling of being trapped. You see, I’m even procrastinating here writing it.

I must contemplate this longer than I realise because I get a prompt. ‘Are you still there?’ I am. I’m just thinking. With that, I realise I now have to say something. It’s my turn to do the talking thing. But the words I’m about to do the talking with don’t feel real. They’re there, but until I say them they won’t actually exist. Is that true? It’s like nothing else could possibly come out of my mouth right now, but at the same time I can’t bring myself to say it. The silence hovers for an uncomfortable few more moments. Moments which will be the last of the before before the after. Moments in both of our lives which will never be the same again. Like someone about to dive into an icy lake, I take a mental run and jump and just do it. The words happen, almost independent of any thought, tumbling impatiently out of my mouth in a mini torrent of absurdity.

‘You could come here.’

It’s her turn to stop, to pause, to feel the same disbelief I’m feeling as they’re out in the open. Newly born yet already fully formed. My saying them hasn’t changed anything. They were always going to happen once they’d assembled themselves, foetal like, at the front of my mind. It doesn’t even really feel like I’m the one who’s said them. In fact, I’m sure I didn’t. They just saw the gap and jumped out. All on their own. Now it’s for Maja to see if they can be harnessed, controlled, or led in any way. She does her best. 

Maja: 

I kinda expected it. I’m still shocked but I kiiiiiinda figured it could come to this. I was looking at Mark’s Facebook a couple of days ago and I saw an ad for a room that he was trying to find a new tenant for. I also saw it had been posted months before, so this couldn’t be the room he was talking about. But that didn’t matter. This got me starting to dream about being able to go there because I was thinking I just didn’t want to be in my situation any longer. I even looked at the car route to the UK. But I really didn’t quite expect anything to happen. How could it? Ever? Just not possible. A total impossibility. Inconceivable. Now an offer has actually been made, it feels unbelievable. Hearing the tone of Mark’s voice while he was talking me through my options I realised how inappropriate he must think it would be for him to offer that room to me. So when I think of how to anwer, I’m very careful in responding in a way that he won’t know I’ve looked at and considered this before. I make sure not to say yes right away but to give the impression I’m only thinking about it, that maybe going to sleep on it. My idea is that I could give a more concrete answer tomorrow.

‘What do you mean?’ Maja asks, sounding stunned. ‘All the rooms in your house are taken.’

I’m a bit perplexed at this reaction. Surely she knows I wouldn’t say something like this if it wasn’t possible. I take a breath to keep my speech on an even keel and begin to explain. ‘One of the guys is moving out next week. It becomes available on Friday. The 19th. I tell Maja here and now that I see this offer as really just a conceptual thing. I’m not at all expecting her to take it up and move here. That would be an absurd idea. What it does do, I think, is give her the possibility of having the freedom to change things if she wants. To not feel as trapped as she has been feeling. Now she takes me by surprise, saying she’s already considered a move to London. She’s even looked at the route she might take from Sweden, through Europe, to France by car to catch a ferry to the UK. Damn. She even knows how long the drive will take. I’m stunned by this little turn. ‘So you’ve already been thinking about this?’ Well, that was a silly question. But what else do you say to something like that?

I’m close to home and we agree there is a lot to think about and maybe talk about seriously tomorrow. We finish the call and I get home just around 12:30am. We’ve arrived at Friday 12th, exactly one week to the 19th. As I take off my jacket, a new disbelief takes hold of me. I don’t expect anything to come of what we’ve been talking about, really I don’t. But a huge question hits me, all the words coming all at once. What the hell have I just done?