Category: Prelude: The Stockholm/London Diary

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?

Friday February 12

Mark:

Damn. I can’t believe it. Ten thirty in the morning and Maja’s been on this already. A little hello chat and she says, ‘I think my driver’s licence should work.’ What now? That’s all she says about it as an introduction. Not, ‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ not, ‘Were you serious what you said last night?’ No. ‘I think my drivers licence might work.’ ‘That tells me someone’s been thinking,’ I say. ‘Of course, ‘she shoots back.’ Alright. I’ll leave it alone. Someone’s in the serious tree. I climb up and join her. It’s begun. This is her plan. She’s going to move here in her car, crossing a whole bunch of countries in a 22 hour drive. And she isn’t planning a quick visit either. This is a full on move she’s contemplating as demonstrated by her next message. The government website for applying for a Global Talent Visa. You see, here’s the thing that’s going to underpin so much of what is to follow. And for the first time, on just day two of this new diary, we’re going to have to go full on political. There’s just no avoiding it anymore. In all previous writings I’ve tried, at every turn, to keep things totally out of that sphere. When I’ve absolutely absolutely had to, I’ve dipped the tippiest tip of a little toenail in the freezing cold and stormy waters and then got the hell out of there. But I’m afraid through quite a bit of this we’re gonna have to go full commando, take a deep breath and dive in and swim. I’ll keep us up for air as much as possible. 

The reason? Brexit. Sorry, but it’s out. I’ve said it. If Maja has any aspirations at all to live and work in the UK, and it seems she is suddenly at least considering to have, proper accesses and documentations are going to have to be followed because UK and European citizens no longer enjoy freedom of work and movement between each others’ territories. So if Maja wants to come here and attempt any kind of working relationship with the UK, she’ll have to jump through all the hoops previously associated with going to live in the USA or Australia. The UK is out of the European loop now.

So yes, she’s been looking at how to get a visa and, as far as she can see, the Global Talent thing seems the most likely. I revisit my doubt and say it now. ‘Wow, so your mind’s made up?’ I get the reply in three messages.

‘Pretty much.’ 

‘I dunno.’ 

‘But yeah.’

We have a little delve into it and it very quickly becomes clear this will not be a quick fix. Everything is just so complicated and involved and there are a lot of steps to go through which can take weeks at a time. It looks like she won’t be coming anytime soon afterall. But that’s not how Maja rolls. Dammit, she says. Can’t I just come as a tourist and do this later? You know what? I think that might just work. And as she says right now, she can be here legally as a tourist for six months. During that time we should be able to sort something out if she decides to really look at that. Maja is in no doubt. ‘When I get a job, they’ll fix that for me.’ Let’s get something up front and out there now. Maja will not be coming here to work in the back of a coffee shop, or pour pints next to me in the bar job I most assuredly would be able to get her, at my place or someone else’s. No. Maja’s fish are somewhat bigger. Somewhat huger. Among other things she’s a cloud engineer. Which basically means she designs, maintains and manipulates the infrastructure that makes the internet work. That computer game you’re playing with your buddies who live all over the world? Chances are she developed and then maintained the software that allowed the game to even exist in that format. She’s done similar jobs for governments and corporations across nations in aspects of projects even the managers knew nothing about. To say there might be a bit of a demand on her services here would be to call the goldrush a goldgentlestroll. So yeah. It’s fair to imagine that a prospective employer would gladly throw whole sections of their admin department at securing her services and making sure they stayed secured.

With this, we start looking at it in full earnest, researching how to come here and what the legals are. Oh. We’ve covered Brexit as one political thing, but I’m afraid we have to look at another one now. Coronavirus. You see, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but we’re in the middle of a pandemic. London is in lockdown and travel restrictions of varying levels are in place all over the world, including a lot of outright travel bans. Once more we delve into the official websites and come up with the little gem that there’s no travel ban for Swedish citizens into the UK, but there is a 10 day quarantine required. And they’re really not messing about with this; failure to comply could actually result in jailtime. ‘Well, if you help me out with groceries I’ll be fine,’ she says. Yep. Done. And a Covid test has to be taken and proved negative before travel. OK. That will be something to have a look at in a little more detail later. So it seems that’s the two biggies out of the way. She’s looking at flights now, as a possible alternative to driving over. It’s way cheaper, she says. OK. It seems she’s just taken a breath to think about all this because she comes back with, ‘I’m just mildly surprised by the reality. My head just spins with all the ifs right now.’ Yep. This is starting to feel pretty real and it’s only midday. It’s less than 12 hours ago that I spoke those four little words. You Could Come Here.

So yes, we’re really doing this. Basic practicalities get discussed now, including the fact that she could soon have a place to call her own in London. And a place that is now going at 20 per cent its pre pandemic price with no deposit is required. However, I’m very keen to stress that it’s part a five person house share, and is a tiny, tiny room. That doesn’t cool the waters one bit. ‘It’s huge to think that I could have a place to call my own,’ she says. ‘Just enormous for me.’ 

Maja then asks about Jenn. Does she know about this as a possibility? Yes, we’ve had that chat and she’s cool with it. And I’ve made sure Elvin, the guy currently in the room, is definitely leaving on the 19th. But I tell her there’s no need to actually aim for that date as I can totally hold the room. I have a great relationship with the landlord and he pretty much lets me organise things around here. With that, she tells me that once he’s left she’ll pay for it even if she’s not arrived yet. She’ll even pay before he leaves, just to be absolutely sure it’s held. She just wants to make sure it doesn’t disappear from under her. ‘Of course it will be held,’ I say. ‘Don’t have this on your worry list.’ And I add that the rent can be paid through me and I can deal with things this end, which means she knows she’s dealing with the de facto decision maker. ‘You’re like a mini landlord,’ she says. Not quite, but I can see how it might look. 

Yes. This is really happening now. I get straight on the phone to the landlord to tell him of the new incoming tenant. He says he’ll make the contract up right away and date it from the 19th. I get back to Maja with this news and I think I make her head spin. ‘It’s really getting sorted now,’ she says. ‘That’s crazy. I haven’t even told anyone about this and suddenly I have a place in London. Amazing.’

Now she goes full on practicalities. What to bring, what not to bring, how and when to tell people. Oh, everything’s spinning everywhere now. And more covid stuff keeps coming; as well as a negative test to be able to get on a plane, she’s now discovered that two tests have to be taken during quarantine. We have no idea how this gets organised or anything, but this is happening now so we put that on the later pile, although it really can’t be too much later. The 19th looks like a date around which this thing will revolve although I expect things to really happen quite a bit after that. But hey, she has a room in London sorted out already and that’s just about the biggest thing in any move anywhere.

I was supposed to have to leave soon for a rehearsal with Sarah, but she just messaged me to see if we can move it to Sunday. No problem. So Maja now asks if I can talk. I can. Five minutes later she’s on the phone. But there’s no excitement in her voice. As much as it might seem, this is no time for excitement. For a start, there are still so many things to organise. But second, it’s too cold to go out where she is so she’s calling me from the apartment while her husband is still there. It’s a whispered conversation while she stays in the bedroom, carefully monitoring the doorknob so that she won’t be caught talking about, well, all the stuff we’re talking about. We’re on the phone for about two hours but as soon as we hang up, my messenger pings again. ‘I’m alone?’ she writes. ‘And it’s dark in the apartment. I knew it was gonna burn soon.’ This is just as we’re coming to 7pm. 

Maja: 

I put the phone down and brace myself to open the bedroom door, mentally preparing myself to handle whatever comes next. What’s going to get thrown at me now? I have no choice but to leave. My puppy Tommy clearly needs to go pee. Trembling, I hold my hand on the handle and slowly push the door. As it opens, I see the apartment is dark. It’s just totally dark. There’s no-one there. I go through to the living room just looking around. Then I open the bathroom and kitchen doors. ‘Hello. Is anyone there?,’ I shout. I even check in the closet. Crazy, I know, but this is a crazy situation. He’s gone. Where the hell did he go? He was supposed to be working. Working at his desk in the living room as he does everyday. It’s minus 10 degrees outside. You don’t go for a walk in that kind of temperature. You just don’t. Not if you don’t have to. And he doesn’t have anywhere to go. What am I supposed to do now? First, I do what needs to be done, which is taking Tommy for a little walk so he can pee. I’m absolutely sure something bad has happened. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what’s going to happen when he gets back and I have no idea how to prepare myself for that. All I can think of is to call Mark back and tell him about this. I do that while frantically walking in circles around the little stone garden close to my home. ‘Mark. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. What am I supposed to do now?’ We talk for a little bit, I calm down and then it comes to me. I’m not really sure how to do it but I realise I need to leave. Now. I go back inside, keeping Mark on the line while I try to find something I can eat this instant. I haven’t had anything to eat today at all. I find some cold cooked rice in the fridge and force myself to eat a couple of spoonfuls. It tastes horrible but that’s irrelevant. It’s food and food equals energy, which is all I need right now. What I’m going to do when he gets back doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not going to be here when he gets back. I say to Mark, ‘I’m leaving for my mum’s now. I can stay there at least until I’m ready to leave for the UK.’ I keep him on the phone while I take a suitcase and just start shoving clothes into it, grabbing whatever I see nearest to me each time I look up. All through this, Tommy is by my side. The suitcase is almost full and I’m just a minute or so away from walking out when I hear the door open. Into the phone, I kind of shout-whisper, ‘I gotta go,’ and hang up. 

In the same second, he comes back home. I cram the suitcase into the closet and force the door shut on it. Then I walk out into the living room and see him walking towards the sofa. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word. Just reaches the sofa where he sits down and turns the TV on. I try to speak to him. Nothing. I ask where he’s been. I ask him a lot of things. I get no answer to any of it. He’s just silent, ignoring me, looking at the TV. Nothing’s on. It’s just the homescreen of Netflix with the movies you can choose. He looks at that, ignoring me, just blindly looking for something to put on. I’m kinda used to being treated like this, completely ignored. So I know that there’s only one way for me to really break the cycle. I need to say it. I need to. I don’t wanna. I’m fearing the words but they need to be said. So I sit down close to him, just in front of him. I pull up a chair so I can sit just in front of him, my face a couple of centimetres away from his. I look into his eyes and say it. I want a divorce. 

We have a long talk about this, and feelings are heated as the full gravity of the situation really starts to hit us. Seeing his remorse, I back down on my demand for a divorce and we settle on the reality that I will be going to London at least for a little while. I can’t handle living like this anymore, and if we’re ever going to get to a place where we can be decent with each other again we need to part ways right now. We talk for hours. When our words finally die out I excuse myself by telling him I have to go out and repark the car. With our severe winter weather, that’s just something we regularly need to do around here so the council can clear the road of snow in the morning. I take the opportunity of being alone again to call Mark to tell him what’s just happened.

Around three hours after we spoke she messages to say that she’s told him she’s leaving. For now at least. ‘Long conversation,’ she says. Now she wants to talk to me. I go out and wander the silent residential streets of Kentish Town, avoiding the busy roads as much as I can. It’s strange, this way of walking and talking late at night on deserted roads. This is lockdown London and no bars are open so no-one is on the streets. We basically cover what we’ve been writing about today in our chats, while she also tells me about what it’s like at home right now. She says she’s being treated kindly enough so it’s manageable, and she feels good now that the news is out. We chat for about an hour and then we’re both close to home so call it for the day. But there’s one more thing. Just after I’ve settled back in at home I get a ping. It’s a screengrab accompanied by the message, ‘This is the flight I’m thinking of.’ Then, in reference to all we’ve been talking about, ‘I can’t believe this is what it had to take to make it feel good again. Goodnight friend. I’m exhausted now.’ That makes two of us.

Now I have a closer look at the details of the possible flight she’s sent me. Damn. It’s this coming Friday.

Saturday February 13

Mark:

After the initial rush, it’s onto details today, mostly getting the covid nitty gritty stuff sorted out. Which means knowing exactly how to go about everything, especially as we’re looking at, bizarrely, this Friday probably being the day this will all happen.

I just want to make sure she knows the room might not be ready if she arrives on that day as Elvin has really started prevaricating; his plans are changing almost by the minute. I’m even starting to get worried that he might actually not leave on the 19th so I make it clear to him that he’s given us his intentions and that someone has now already made plans to be here on that day. He says he understands and he’ll make sure to leave the house on that day even if he has to stay somewhere else before leaving the country like he’s intending. OK. But I still tell Maja that she might want to postpone until at least Saturday to give me a chance to clear the room out and have it ready for her. She’s not phased by that in the slightest. No need to have the room ready, she insists. She’ll help clear it out and clean it if needed. And if he’s still there when she arrives, she’s cool to chill until he’s disappeared. OK. As long as she knows and is fine with it. Her reasoning is that if she comes almost any other day after Friday next week, she’ll be looking at two flights, meaning possible covid planning for any transit country as well. Basically, it could all start to get messy and complicated, not to mention more expensive. OK, so Friday it still most likely is then.

Now to book the covid travel test, which will happen on Tuesday with the plan to have a negative result returned from a test time no more than 72 hours before flying. Which means Wednesday and Thursday could well be spent worrying about a possible positive result. Nothing to be done about that. Take the test and wait and see is all you can do.

Ten PM and she tells me the flight is booked, and the corona test is also in for Tuesday. This really is motoring now. Next up is the passenger locator form and ordering the test kits which she now knows are to be used and posted for analysis on the second and eighth days after arrival. Unless subsequently told otherwise, you are then free to go out and about on day 11.

Now we start to look forwards and Maja asks if she can send me a shopping list for things she would like me to get from here. So I’m now acting as a sort of a one man advance party, making sure everything is ready on the ground for a new arrival. We’re talking toiletries and bedding stuff. Nothing major, but still very preferable to have available from minute dot.

Now, beyond actual practicalities, we get to talk about fun stuff. First item on the agenda: What bass will she buy when she gets here? She’ll be traveling without any of the three that she currently owns, which will all be left in Sweden, along with amps and anything else bulky. So I get to help her shop online, which means I am now vicariously buying a bass. Cool. I guess that’s a level or two above window shopping. It’s fair to say we spend a lot of time looking at this and a lot of basses get chosen and then rejected. The main issue is doubt over really committing to making a purchase this big for something you can’t even try out. I know you can return within a reasonable period, but it’s bad enough to have to think about this with buying clothes online, let alone a new bass. But really, this is a very nice problem to have after some of the other stuff contained in the minutes so far.

The bottom line for today is that tickets have been booked and practicalities, as far as they can be, have been sorted. Now she has the wonderful prospect of Friday to look forward to when she can leave the stresses of Sweden behind and head off to a new adventure in London, which of course starts with the mandatory 10 day period of quarantine or, more accurately in her case, a kind of legally enforced rest. I get the feeling it is being very highly anticipated as she says, during one exchange of a three hour skype chat that goes way past midnight, ‘I feel I could sleep for a week.’ But maybe just a thought or two of being active as well as she says, ‘I’m not usually a runner, but when I get there I wanna run just a little bit. Just from the joy of freedom.’

Maja: 

Today is about preparation. And about getting along. We have a chat and he acts supportively towards the idea of me going to London. He knows that I’ve been serious about music lately and it makes sense that I want to do something that breaks the depressiveness we’ve had at home lately. He really isn’t happy about it, but accepts it, which is a relief for me. So for today, we decide to go on a date. I prepare some details regarding travel with Mark, and pack up a bag with Tommy’s necessities. We decided to go on an outing to the forest with Tommy. It is sunny and it is beautiful outside. Minus 10 degrees C, so we need to have warm clothing on. All three of us. We have two layers of trousers, winter jackets and of course Tommy is dressed in his winter jacket as well. Tommy is a Chinese Crested Hairy Hairless Puppy, around five months old. This breed is known for being very cold sensitive, which is why it is important that we dress him appropriately. And since it is so cold, I usually let him sit in my jacket as well. He is tiny, so it is OK. He fits nice and snugly under my big winter jacket. 

We drive to McDonalds to have a little lunch in the drive through before our outing. We order food, and park in a place with a beautiful view over a snowclad highway, where we eat our hamburgers and talk. We talk about my trip to London. About what I am going to do there. He is of the belief that if you’re going to do something a bit crazy, you might as well get it over with while you’re still young. I couldn’t agree more, but that’s not really what this is about. I keep that thought to myself. But I am hugely appreciative that he is supportive of my decision to do this. Even though I know he doesn’t want me to go. He is acting tough handling the reality he doesn’t want to accept. I’m having a hard time being cheerful. I feel like a traitor. But I do my best, as always. We finish up, and I am embarrassed by the amount I have to throw away. I can’t possibly stomach a whole burger. I somewhat manage a third. I drive us to the national park 30 minutes from where we live. We’ve been there once before, it is a beautiful place with cows, pigs and ducks and other farm animals. But we seem to have put a different part of the enormous park into our GPS, so we end up at a place we’ve never been before instead. The forest we drive through is absolutely stunning, with about 10 centimetres of snow on the tree branches. The branches of the oak trees are heavily weighed down by the snow, and it glistens in the sun. When the wind blows we can see huge amounts of snow fall down from some branches, which then shoot back up from the released tension. The ground is covered by about 50 cm to a meter of untouched snow, painting the landscapes in white. It is probably the most stunningly beautiful winter landscape I’ve seen in my entire life. 

We park in a little parking lot in the forest, get out of the car and take a walk on a hiking trail in the forest. The trail goes over a little stream that amazingly is not frozen yet. The little stream pourls as we walk on a bridge a couple of meters over it. It feels a little scary to look down, I think as I lean closer to the edge to take some photographs. The sun is shining, and everywhere I look it sparkles and glistens. The wind is coldly kissing my cheeks, that get red and a little bit sore. We walk onto a little frozen lake, talking about the forest and how amazing it is that we can actually walk on top of a frozen lake without the slightest fear of the ice breaking. The ice is too thick to break, it’s been minus degrees for weeks by now. After a while I take Tommy up in my jacket and carry him so he can warm up. 

It is the ideal winter date, of a seemingly happy young family with a dog and a bright future. 

Our last date.

Sunday February 14

Maja:

I am having a hard time realising that I am about to move to London. It is post Brexit, and during complete covid lockdown, so I don’t really have anything of the usual London to look forward to, but that is really not what this move is about. This move is about me getting some space for myself to actually relax and find myself. Anyone going through a rough part of a relationship knows the importance of just getting away for a bit if you’re not getting along. When a relationship becomes stressful, even during the times no arguments happen it can be stressful just being close to each other. 

I’ve really started to feel the need to be somewhere else for a while, and I am absolutely delighted with having found a place to go to. I’m happy with the friendship that has developed between me and Mark, and it feels like a good place for me to go to. I could just be there for a while, chill and let myself think about where to go next in life. 

Since I’ve decided to go ahead and move, there are preparations to make. I’ve spoken with my husband about it, and we’ve gotten to an OK place about it, so the next stage is to tell my family about it. We go there and I do that. They’re shocked and devastated with sadness. Over the next few days they will try more and more to persuade me not to go ahead with my plans, to just keep things as they are in Sweden. At times I will feel as though I’m demanded to justify my decisions and motivations, as though this was a negotiation with me having to stake my position then defend it. It is not. I am going, for my own sake. For no one else but me. But the discussions wear me down and I feel like I’m having to fight for the right to do things my way, in this moment, to live my own life on my own terms. In this, as the longest week of my life drags on, I start to feel more and more alone. Everyone around me is making me feel as though I have to struggle for every step I take. At times I will even feel as though I might not be able to head off on this short break that I need so much, if for no other reason than to make sense of where I am and to think of what could possibly be next. I certainly have no-one in Sweden I can speak to about all that. It really is a desperately sad and lonely time for me. How far are people ready to go to keep me here? Could they stop me from going? Would they? At times I’m really not so sure. Hints are certainly dropped.  When they are, they land like lead in my stomach. Oh this long long week feels like it will never end.

Mark:

In a chat today, as we’re going through the practicalities, which has become something of a watchword,  Maja suddenly remembers my experiences and says, ‘Oh yeah, I forgot. You also did the sudden London move thing. You’re like the ultimate Londoner for me.’ Not entirely sure about that, but yes, I see where she’s coming from. Now she mentions it, yes, I did do it in similar fashion in my dash from Madrid, but also in a much less secure way and with a pretty damn nasty landing too once the whole thing had crashed and burned on me. That whole homeless period with nothing but a corner of a friend’s room to call (extremely loosely) my own, no job, dwindling savings. If you can even call what I had savings. So yeah. I guess I do know what I’m talking about. But then, as she rightly points out, as much as she’s coming into a little more of a secure situation than I, ahem, enjoyed, I didn’t have Covid and lockdown London to contend with, so different challenges for different times. But security? She has the whole Brexit thing going on too as it’s not like she can come over here and start looking for a job if needed, but that’s a later issue. She has far greater priorities to think about than that like now, as she says, ‘I’m not usually a runner. But when I get there, I wanna run a little bit. Just from the joy of freedom.’ Yep. I think that’s about where it is right now.

Oh, but London walks. That’s really something to think about once she’s able to get out and about again and we talk about my own experience of that in the early days of Lockdown when I took my daily exercise allowance to go and see an iconically empty central London. If not quite as extreme, it’s still a little bit like that so that’s definitely something we can get out and see when the time comes.

So yes, we also have quite a bit to talk about, or rather she does, and I listen and pass a comment now and then. I was supposed to have rehearsal with Sarah today but that’s been put off again so when she asks I say that yes, I am free. The conclusion of today, at least on her domestic front, is that things have stopped burning so much and a kind of politeness has descended. Things certainly feel a little calmer. She’s also started to think in terms of a shorter visit. Maybe a timeframe of something like two months.

Monday February 15

Maja:

I am spending the days talking to my family and packing.

Mark:

I’m damn sure I had corona back in February, but things have been feeling a little strange lately. Nothing major, but you never know. And corona tests have apparently been a little easier to get lately so I booked myself in last night for one today. It’s a bit of a walk away, 30 minutes or so to Islington. Not ideal if you really are full on symptomatic. How is someone supposed to be able to do that? I arrive at the place and I’m expecting at least some kind of gym hall. Maybe something that looks like a medical centre. Nope. What I find looks more like a field hospital. It’s a large tent, but it isn’t even enclosed. Those poor people working in there, fully exposed to any kind of cold and wind that might happen. Which is a lot right now, as we’re in February. On either side of the tent are five little rooms separated by canvas. In each of those ‘rooms’ are what look like rough, hastily constructed chairs and desks made of bare wood. I’m also expecting some kind of professional on hand to perform the test on me, but no to that too. Instead, when I’m indicated to enter, I’m given a little bag containing a test kit. I do what with this now? Go to the empty room over there, the one that someone’s just finishing sanitising, sit down and follow the instructions on the wall.  So yep. I’ve come to a testing centre to take a self test I have no idea how to do. Well, I guess millions of people have already done these so how hard can it be? Just follow the instructions on the wall step by step. OK. Sample tube goes here, stick goes there, bag goes there, and I have my bits and pieces arrayed out in front of me. It looks mildly complicated and quite medical and technical but again like I said, millions have done this before me and I must be more or as intelligent as at least a few of them so surely I can do this too. Step one, take stick and stick down the back of throat. Simple. Apparently after this you take same stick and stick up nose. Ah. I’m starting to get it now. Then stick is sticked, sorry, stuck, in bag. Then all done. OK, so not quite as intimidating as it seemed when I was first given a bag full of medical bits and told to get on with it and come back when I was done. But stick down throat. This doesn’t go so well as the stick sticks my sick trigger. Oh dear. I try desperately to hold it back and, well, you can imagine the rest. Let’s just say I manage not to make a mess of the table. I now have to call out for someone to come and give me another bag of corona sticks so I can go again. I’m seriously apprehensive this time and really have to hold on so as not to have to repeat it yet again. Ten seconds you’ve got to hold that thing back there, right in the gag reflex zone. I reckon whoever designed this was having a bit of a laugh, imagining all the self induced projectile vomiting going on in test centres all over the country. But I just about manage it this time. All that’s left now is to ram this thing up my nose to complete the sticky process. Done, all safely deposited in aforementioned tube, and now in self sealing bag. Drop that off at whatever you call the outgoing reception, and test experience concluded until the next bit which is to see whether I’m positive or not. I guess if I am I’ll already be well aware by the time the results come but this is how the system works. Spoiler alert: it comes back negative. 

Buying a bass in the time of Corona. Been looking into it, and yes they can be returned within a week if you’re not happy. Still not ideal given the number of attractive basses you might try in a shop before buying but at least it’s not a commitment to something you’ve only seen a pretty picture of.

I have a few things I have to do here to make sure things are prepared for when Maja arrives. Yes, we’re working on the assumption that her covid test will be negative. One of my little tasks is to make sure she has all the bed sheets and towels she needs. Jenn, being a girl herself, knows how important it is to get these things right and is happy to come out with me to make sure I pick up the right things. So that’s one little fun excursion this end. We head out into Ktown and go Maja shopping. I return home with quite a decent haul and lay it out on our floor. All the necessary bedding stuff, towel, other toiletry bits and pieces, extension lead, coathangers, and a Europe to UK plug adaptor. I’ll be adding at least another one of those. I take a picture and send it to Maja so she can see that things really are coming along here and that things will be set up as well as they can be so that she can have as seamless a landing and arrival as possible.

As well as my preparations here, our phone calls are starting to become more and more regular as she needs a little support and steam blowing in between what I’m hearing are some really intense conversations over there in Sweden. Damn. She’s meeting a lot of resistance to this. People really don’t want her to go. It’s a trip away to get some head space while getting out of what seems to me to be a bad situation. I think I can say that now. Through our extended regular chats, I’m really starting to get a good enough handle on how things are.

This is making Friday become a more and more anticipated date and we’re starting to talk about English things to do and see, and just a few more fun things in general. Dr Who is a favourite show of hers, she says, and she’s looking forward to maybe catching up on some episodes here that haven’t been available in Sweden. I decide not to say it just yet, but star of the show Matt Smith is a regular at The Palmerston and lives right here in the area. That’s a fun little fact to keep to myself for now. We’re also anticipating conversations without internet lag. You know, Skype freezes and the like. Very frustrating, especially when you talk a whole bunch about something then realise the connection dropped out sometime just after you started talking. Also, not always an optimal way to teach bass. When our conversations were all purely music related and very much at a professional level of chat, I’d get through a whole song she’d asked me to play so that she could film it, only to then discover her screen had frozen somewhere near the beginning and we’d have to go again. That happened quite a few times. But here’s another thing now I mention Skype. Since Thursday when the possibility of her coming to London was mentioned we’ve only spoken on the phone. We haven’t actually seen each other at all. I don’t know about her, but I kinda feel like I want to keep it that way. Those Skype calls feel like they happened a long time ago.

Tuesday February 16

Maja:

Today I am going to take the corona test for travel. In this time of Corona, travel is hard and there’s a lot of things that just need to be done correctly in the right order to avoid breaking any of the new corona laws. These laws have just appeared in several countries and are subject to change without any given notice, so it is really hard to know if you will be able to actually go through with any of your plans. So right now I have to take several new things into consideration. For one, it is the new demand to have a travel certificate that shows that you’re fit for travel with no sign of Covid. To travel from Sweden to the UK, you need something called a RT-PCR test which must be taken less than 72 hours from arrival in the UK. My flight will arrive at 5 PM UK time on friday. So that means that I need to take it later than 6 PM Swedish time today. I book a time for 6:50 PM just before that centre closes for the day and hope I’ll get the certificate in time before takeoff. These tests are surprisingly expensive. A trip to London isn’t that cheap, but if you account for these tests as well, any trip abroad suddenly becomes noticeably more expensive. The price is around 1300 SEK, which is about 130 euro. 

I arrive at the centre in time, after getting lost all over the mall it is in. It’s a little hole in the wall kind of store, with no visible personnel. It’s really hard to see that the place really exists, but after walking past it about 4 times I finally notice it. I have to call a button and then a man in a labcoat comes out. He greets me and say that today’s delivery to the lab have already gone, do you want to take the test anyway? This means that I won’t get the results until the next night, but the taken test time will remain the same. I’m OK with that, I don’t want to come back here and it’ll be in time for my flight anyway so I go in to take the test. He checks my passport and we walk into the inner room which looks like a mix between a laboratory and an examination room. There are steel countertops with lab-like objects on them. He brings the testing kit which contains a test tube and a little object that looks like a small pipe cleaner. It’s made of steel and has a small brush at the end of the stick. I’m asked to tilt my head slightly backwards and he slowly sticks that horrifying object into my nose. It hurts so bad that I jolt and he drags it out. Ouch! Are you done, I ask. No, I didn’t get in quite far enough, he answers. Oh no. This really hurts. I tilt my head backwards once again and he goes in the other nostril. And he just continues. Deeper and deeper. Until he reaches what feels like the place where the nostril connects to the mouth. There he stops, turns the object around and takes it out. Finally. My nose runs, and it hurts in both nostrils. I take a tissue and blow it out. This really wasn’t very pleasant at all but it is done now. I walk back to my car, and I can feel that that object has been in my nose for at least an hour afterwards.

Mark:

Damn. I’ve just realised I really really want Maja to come. What prompted this? She takes the corona test today and if it comes out positive, no trip. OK. I hear you, and I’m telling myself the same thing: This is all purely about helping someone out and offering a friend a safe space in a difficult time. But the test thing and the prospect of a positive result and a consequent cancellation has suddenly made me feel very different about the situation. I really really want this to happen much more than I thought I did. I have no idea what to make of that. And results won’t be known until sometime Thursday. Of course a negative result is totally expected but you really just never know. It doesn’t help when Maja writes things like, ‘I don’t think I have corona.’ That’s like saying I’m sure I did, in an attempt to persuade someone you really did do that important thing. But I know she has already had corona so it won’t come back again will it? These are the kinds of things that are swirling in my mind all the time right now. I’m sure she’s thinking the same.

We also start checking official travel guidance and the like and Maja comes up with the line that Sweden is advising against travel to the UK right now. Oh dear. The elements really are quite against this.

Me and Sarah manage a rehearsal today, and we really make good progress on putting together our little show. It looks like it will be something of a five song medley with me coming in and out on bass with backing tracks used for one of the songs, and also a little a capella going on. There’s a nice little moment she’s given me where I take a solo in between one of the pieces. When I finish my solo today she loves it so much that she says, ‘That is no interlude. We’re starting the whole thing with that.’ Wow. 

It’s a seriously fun project to be working on and great to have a real musical focus especially now while my focus is being pulled all over the place, but mainly in the direction of Sweden. The goal for rehearsal right now is to have a tight 15 minute show to take out on this London road when it finally reopens for business. We’re also planning to record it for Sarah to send off to some of her contacts. Apparently she can get some funding that way if it all works out. I have no idea what funding means and I’m not asking, but Sarah’s contacts go deep into the A list of society and entertainment so whatever she shakes out of this could be quite interesting. Today we manage a full run through of what it could look like which is really cool. Still quite rough in parts, but we have something that feels like one complete piece. On Thursday we’re going to tighten up a few more details and then start trying to get this thing recorded.

It also helps take my mind off how slowly the minutes have been ticking by since Friday. This isn’t at all being helped by waiting for the results of the corona test. Thursday feels a hell of a long time away right now.

Well, it almost takes my mind off things. When we come to a close and settle down for our post rehearsal hang, Sarah says that as well as things have gone today, she can’t help notice that I seem a little bit distracted and maybe a touch hyper. She says she can see a light in my eyes shining even brighter than usual. This is unfortunate because I’m not supposed to be feeling anything, let alone showing it. I decide to open up, although it feels really strange to be actually articulating things. OK, I say. There is a girl thing going on. ‘I knew it,’ she half shrieks. ‘No no no. It’s not like that,’ I’m very quick to point out. I tell her about the helping out thing and the Maja coming thing, and the online chats and how they’ve led her to confide in me, which has led me to offer a way out, which has led us to getting really deep into, well, just about everything really. And feelings come out of that and I have no idea what to do with them. I don’t know if she feels the same way and I don’t know if I really feel anything anyway. And even if I do, I really don’t want to. I tell her that this is not an excited boy is going to meet girl thing. This is a serious situation that I’m supposed to be helping out in, not getting all, you know. Sarah just looks all coy and gigglish. Excited even. But I can think of few less appropriate words or emotions right now than excited. I just want to be calm about all this, welcome Maja in and hope that whatever I think I’m feeling just dies down. There really is no place for it here.

Sarah suggests bringing her along to the next rehearsal and maybe even letting her jam with us, possibly even becoming a part of what we’re doing. I drop cold water all over that idea saying, ‘For a start, her playing is just nowhere up to any kind of level ready for us.’ With that Sarah seems to let go of the thought, but is still keen for me to bring her to rehearsal for a hang out. Me and Sarah are clearly in social mode now so I check my phone for a few messages that I saw come in during rehearsal, and yep, there are one or two from Maja. I tell her we’ve just finished, and she says a hi to Sarah which Sarah just absolutely loves, saying she now feels connected to the story. Whatever that could mean. Sarah, there’s no story. I’m meeting this girl at the airport in a few days. We may hug, we may not. Then she’s going to come to my house and have a chill and a safe space and I’m going to carry on with my things while doing some shopping for her and maybe listen to and share a few thoughts. That’s it. There is no story.

Later when I get to message/chat to Maja a little more, she says she’s thrilled at the idea of coming along to a rehearsal or two and having an opportunity to listen and see how the pros do it. Yeah, that will be kinda cool. I really have a thing about people not directly involved being at rehearsals. If it’s ever in my control this is something I just do not allow. But I get the feeling Maja will be just fine and if Sarah’s cool with having her around then so am I.

Wednesday February 17

Mark:

This is very strange. Me and Maja are starting to have longer and longer silences on the phone. Sometimes we kind of stay there simply hanging out saying nothing at all, waiting to see if one of us will break the silence. If no-one does, all cool. We just keep on hanging on. I really should watch myself with this. I must admit I’m really not best pleased with it. We’re kinda starting to act like two people at the start of a relationship. Anything either of us is feeling here, if that’s even a thing that’s happening, has to be an illusion. I mean, our conversations are covering all kinds of really deeply emotional stuff as I’m helping her through this week while she prepares to fly away from her marriage for what could be just a month or two. Yeah. There you go. She’s married. What the hell am I thinking about? Got to let this go. Having thoughts stray into that kind of territory when someone’s coming to stay in your home to get away from a difficult emotional situation really is not cool. Seriously not cool. And acting on this could not possibly lead to any kind of good place so just forget it. Really. Please. I think we’re just going through some really intense conversations that I haven’t shared too much in here, but just yeah, they are intense. And deeply personal. I can’t help thinking that stuff like that is going to play with your head a bit. I’ve just got to not play back.

Today Maja gets a realistion that flying in the time of corona will create the possibility of iconically empty airport scenes. Yeah, we agree. It probably will be like that. This is a moment in history, and something people will ask about in years to come. I’m very curious about what it will be like too and we speculate a little. But then, there are also stories around of people being on packed planes, so who really knows? An interesting little item to play around with for a bit anyway.

Since Maja took the test yesterday, time has almost stopped moving. It feels like an interminable wait and thoughts do turn to what she will do if it comes out positive. I’ll let her discuss that small issue. For my part, I admit that I’ll be very disappointed if it does come out positive and she seems very pleased to hear that. Like, ‘You really do want me to come?’ Yes, I really really do. We’re on another long chat and walk into the evening when she asks me to wait. A message just came through on her phone. Oh, she says. It’s from the test centre. I have to go and open this. It’s no fun at all as we hang up and I wait to see what kind of Maja comes back on the phone. It rings about a minute later and I stare at it, knowing that there will be a before and an after of this very phone call. This is where I find out what the after will be. I answer and immediately hear laughter on the line. Oh wow. It’s come back negative. That’s it. Game on. She’s coming. This has been the last thing on the list to check off. I stop and sit on a wall. The relief is immense. Far greater than I ever thought it would be. After the initial reaction, we just both hang on the line, neither of us saying anything, almost not able to take it in. Oh, this has felt like a long long wait, with so much resting on the outcome. I think we can tell from the reaction now that neither of us was taking this for granted. This is total relief and release territory. Weight lifted. And now I feel it come off, I realise it was sitting far heavier on me than I ever imagined. I walk now and still neither of us is hardly saying a thing. Just being together in this moment of magnitude. Finally we can say it. See you on Friday. Wow yes. There’s always been a little bit of an if in there. Now it’s actually a when. See you Friday. It doesn’t seem real.

And of course I will and can go to the airport. This whole furlough thing has been a bit of an advantage in this highly unusual situation as it’s meant I’ve been more or less available to take every phonecall, almost immediately reply to a message or jump on a chat, or yes, go to an airport on any day no matter what time a flight comes in.

We talk about the arrival a little on chat as midnight ticks over and we roll into the 18th, realising that we will meet tomorrow. The thought that we’ve never actually met is just the strangest concept to both of us and we wonder how it will be in an airport in these times of Covid. The travel restrictions dictating home or hotel isolation for 10 days only came into effect a few days ago – February 15 to be exact – and how you’re supposed to behave in all this is all so new and unknown. And I have a really shocking thought. This is a really big news story in the UK. Pretty much the biggest one right now, so of course the media and attendant photographers are all over the airports, mostly Heathrow. We will have no idea what it will be like until we actually both get there. A few questions. Will hugging be allowed? Are you even allowed to meet someone off a plane and then walk through the airport with them. No idea about anything really. Especially if we do find ourselves right in the middle of a media spectacle in arrivals. It really is possible. So we formulate a plan which seems ridiculous, absurd, surreal. But these are surreal times. If it does all look like being a bit of a circus, I’ll hang back away from the main arrivals section. Then, when Maja comes out, we’ll make sure to have made eye contact. If she sees me stay where I am she’ll know what to do. And that is to follow me as I turn around and walk directly to the airport bus station and to the stop for the shuttlebus. If there’s a quiet place somewhere on the way we can then say hello in the more traditional manner. But really, a lot of this will have to be played by ear if there is something of a situation. This really is CIA stuff and to really take us to the right level of CIA clearance, I’ll have to make sure to have walked the route to the bus stop from the arrival gate before Maja arrives so that I’ll know exactly where to go. Otherwise we could have the ridiculous situation of someone following someone who’s lost and is going round in circles or worse, doubling back on themselves. No. If it comes to this, I want to be able to see Maja, make eye contact, turn round and walk straight to where we have to go. No messing. Yes we see the absolute absurdity of it all. And now, with this conversation having taken us into the small hours we have arrived at Thursday. Which means we can actually say it so we do. ‘See you tomorrow.’ But we’re not quite finished there as we start to explore how this is making us feel after this long week that’s felt more like a month. I let slip here that I’ve been really tired during the days just like Maja has. But my excuse is that I’ve been staying up all hours watching the Tennis Australian Open. She suggests this is a convenient excuse and she might just have a point. The truth is that yes, I have been a bit on edge about all this as well but I really don’t want to go there in any kind of discussion. But we do start to go there now as I admit this is all hitting me a little. Hard? Maja asks. Just little tickles, I say. Like rabbit punches. But friendly rabbits. Oh dear. Line crossed there? But she says she feels it too and puts it into real words. Belly rabbit punches. Yeah. I feel you. And like that a phrase is born. Belly rabbits. Invented by us, I say. It really is time for goodnights and I sign off saying, Goodnight and hold those rabbits in. Oh, what the hell am I writing in these chats and what the hell are we doing?

Thursday February 18

Maja:

I’m excited about leaving tomorrow. But my body is filled with a myriad of emotions and self doubt. Am I doing the right thing? I am going to miss everything I have here, and it also feels absolutely horrible that I know that I need to leave my puppy Tommy as well. Pets are really hard. I’ve bonded so strongly with him, he even sleeps with his head on my upper arm, using it as a pillow. I used to toss and turn quite a lot before I got a dog, but now every time I need to move during the night, I wake up and make sure I’m not crushing him or disturbing his sleep. It’s a beautiful bond we have, and I never want to leave his side. Never. Ever. He is still tiny. And he is so innocent. He has never done anything wrong and he has no idea of what is about to happen. That the only person he trusts in the world has to leave him. I know that Harry and my mum are going to take great care of him while I’m gone, but I’m his world. He doesn’t really know anything or anyone else. He is only five months old.

It breaks my heart. I love him so much. 

Mark:

Today seems to stretch out into an eternity. One more day in what has been one of the longest weeks of my life and, I’m beginning to suspect, the actual longest of Maja’s. It feels like every day since the 11th has been a constant run of battles, justifications and fears of everything becoming derailed at any moment for any number of reasons. 

Maja’s says she would like to walk a little when she gets to London. The Corona thing means self isolation for ten days meaning she will have to stay in the house during that time, but transport from the airport is, by definition, allowed. That includes having to be among people in enclosed spaces. Surely it would be better to walk some of the way. Makes sense to me. But her reasoning is more the fact that once she’s arrived at the house she won’t be able to see London at all for 10 days and I’m only just learning now that, as good as her English is, she’s never been to an actual English speaking country. So this will be her first time in London and she won’t be able to see any of it for the first 10 days. Unless she goes for at least something of a walk before getting to the house. I’ve also discovered in the past week that she knows nothing of London. Nothing. Never even heard of Leicester Square. Oxford Street and Hyde Park could be little quiet backwaters for all she cares. And Big Ben? If I told her that was the name of the guy on top of the big column in Trafalgar Square, well she’d believe me. She’s heard of all the places I’ve written about in the Diaries. The Blues Kitchen, Aint Nothin But, and various other venues and such. But mainstream tourist places? Not a notion. So we’ll start from the beginning then. I’d already decided it would be a good idea to get the London shuttle bus from Heathrow to Victoria rather than the tube so that we spend more time above ground and she can get to see London that way at least before disappearing indoors for 10 days. I want to give her the best view of London possible when she arrives so I decide I should go and check out the route from Victoria to somewhere near our place. I can kinda see it on a route map but I really want to see for myself. I also want to know exactly where we’ll have to go to catch the next bus after getting off the shuttle bus. So I take a trip to Victoria, find the drop off point for the shuttle bus and then try to find the bus stop to bring us home. It’s a lot harder than I thought and nowhere near the coach station so I already feel glad that I’ve taken the time to come and see the actual view from the ground. So yep, I’ve found the right bus stop and now I’m going to ride that bus all the way home to see how much through the sights it actually goes. It doesn’t disappoint as it winds its way all through central London before taking me somewhere close to Kentish Town. I could take it a lot closer but I’m mindful of Maja’s request to have a bit of a walk so I get off at a stop I consider to be a reasonable distance away for a 10 minute walk through north west London suburbia, emerging at the far end of Kentish Town. From there it’s a full look at what will be her local high street and a straight shoot home. Which is where I find myself right now after completing all this.

When I arrive, Maja’s there, on the computer, telling me she’s just putting the finishing touches to her packing and asking if I’m ready for her my end. I am. ‘Great, it’s really happening,’ she says. Yep. She asks if I’m going to be nervous about this first meeting but I don’t think so. She says she is, but in an excited way. That’s about natural. We look at buses and conclude she’ll be leaving the apartment a little after 10 tomorrow morning. She goes on to talk about the wonderful day she has planned for tomorrow. The books she’ll read, the music she’ll listen to, the casual, meandering journey now the 10am leaving time has been decided on. And of course whatever is waiting at the other end, mostly the fact that she’ll be in London and far from this situation she’s been wanting to get away from for so long. The time is very much almost here. She still wants to pass a little more time tonight. Hell, we both do. So we get off chat and I go out into the street for a bit of a talk on the phone where we don’t really cover much more than what we’ve already been talking about but it’s cool to hang like this, although in not more than a few daylight hours we won’t be needing the phone anymore. We don’t sign off with a goodbye. Instead, it’s what feels like a surreal, ‘See you tomorrow.’