A Small Indiscretion Read online

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2011 Denise Rudberg

  English translation copyright © 2014 Laura A. Wideburg

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  A Small Indiscretion was first published in 2011 by Norstedts Forlagsgrupp AB as Ett litet snedsprång. Translated from Swedish by Laura A. Wideburg. Published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2014.

  Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  ISBN-13: 9781477817698

  ISBN-10: 1477817697

  Cover design by: Anna Curtis

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013917274

  To my maternal grandmother, Ruth, the brave, strong woman who will always be my role model.

  CONTENTS

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  CHAPTER 81

  CHAPTER 82

  CHAPTER 83

  CHAPTER 84

  CHAPTER 85

  CHAPTER 86

  CHAPTER 87

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  MARIANNE JIDHOFF: A recent widow and legal secretary who spent the past year taking care of her dying husband.

  TORSTEN EHN: A hardened investigator for the Swedish National Bureau of Investigation. He lives for good food.

  OLLE LUNDQVIST: A brusque prosecutor who keeps everyone in line.

  AUGUSTIN MADRID: A novice police assistant. His tailored suits are as unusual in the police force as his first name.

  PAULA STEEN: A wealthy but lonely housewife.

  ALEXANDRA BARANSKI: A famous prosecutor who wins case after case. Her opponents hope she’ll finally have a losing streak.

  NINA LARSON: Marianne’s eldest daughter, with whom Marianne has a complicated relationship.

  SIGRID LARSON: Marianne’s second daughter, who runs a fashionable dressmaking shop.

  PEDER LARSON: The baby brother in the family. He is finishing his university studies in Australia.

  NOAH EHN: Torsten Ehn’s teenage son, recently admitted to the Stockholm Ballet School.

  PROLOGUE

  I’m afraid that Hans is about to pass away, so you must prepare yourself.”

  Marianne blinked, trying to understand what the friendly nurse from Ersta Hospice was saying. Her entire body fought against this incomprehensible news about her husband. The whole family had been there just last night. They’d had a nice dinner together, and Hans had seemed more energetic than he had in weeks.

  Today, Marianne and her son Peder had stopped by to see if Hans wanted to spend a few minutes in the sunshine. What had happened during the night? How could he have taken such a turn for the worse? Why hadn’t the people from the Hospice called her earlier?

  As if she’d been reading Marianne’s thoughts, the nurse replied, “He woke up a few minutes ago and was in great pain. The doctor was just here and examined him—he has taken a bad turn. I’m sorry. This can happen quickly, much more so than we realize. I know this must be a shock to you.”

  “How is Hans right now?”

  “He seems to know what is happening. I think he feels ready.”

  Peder looked straight ahead. Marianne squeezed his hand gently. Finally, she was able to absorb what the nurse was telling her.

  “I’m just going to call my daughters,” she said.

  “Let me call them,” the nurse said. “I think it’s best for you to go to him now.”

  Marianne took a deep breath and stepped into Hans’s room. The sun was shining, and, to her surprise, the window was open.

  “Hans asked me to open it for him,” the nurse said.

  Marianne walked over to the bed to look at her husband. He was extremely thin. She could see that he was upset because he was unable to keep his mouth closed.

  Peder sat down on the other side of the bed and took his father’s hand.

  Marianne watched her son. His jaw was clenched, and it had lost its color. She picked up Hans’s left hand and rubbed it gently. She felt his wedding ring beneath her fingers, and that made her smile. He gave her a weak smile in return, and her eyes filled with tears. Marianne knew Hans hated it when she cried, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “The nurse is calling Nina and Sigrid.”

  Hans shut his eyes, and she felt a slight pressure from his hand. She understood what he meant: their daughters weren’t going to make it in time.

  Marianne cleared her throat and wiped her cheek to stop her tears from falling on the sheet. She tried to speak as strongly and clearly as she could.

  “I love you. I’m here for you.”

  Hans’s eyes were still closed, and he seemed to nod slightly.

  Peder tried to stran
gle a sob.

  Then, Hans opened his eyes to look at Marianne. He seemed to be trying to form sounds, so she leaned closer to him. Finally, he managed to say, “Irene…”

  Marianne leaned even closer, looking at her husband quizzically. He made an extraordinary effort to say, “Irene. Where is Irene?”

  Then, she saw the heartbreak in his eyes. Heartbreak over not being able to say what he wanted. She detected a feeling of loss, too. The kind of loss a boy has after he’s decided to run away from his mother.

  Hans looked around the room as if searching for someone, and just as Marianne started to ask about this Irene, his eyes turned empty. A weak sigh came from his mouth, and his hand quivered in Marianne’s. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, and it was all over.

  Marianne released his hand. Her own arms fell limply to her sides. She felt a pressure in her chest as if her lungs were going to burst. When she finally dragged in a deep breath, she saw that Peder was looking over at her with worry.

  “Mamma, how are you?”

  He helped her to her feet. They stood there for a long time—Marianne didn’t know how long—with their arms around each other. She forced herself to look at Hans, but then she had to turn away. All she wanted was to leave this horrible room.

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1

  Paula Steen let her arm slide down Jens’s stomach, feeling his chest hair tickle her underarm. He jerked in his sleep, then turned over and muttered, “I have to get more sleep. I didn’t get home until two thirty last night.”

  Paula spooned herself against his body and spoke softly: “We’ve missed you here at home. Especially me…”

  She slowly ran her fingers underneath the band of his shorts, but he harshly pushed her away.

  “Cut it out. I told you I need to sleep.”

  He pulled up the blanket protectively so she could no longer get at him. Soon she heard his deep breathing, and it appeared he was back asleep. Paula lay beside him, and tears ran down her cheeks. Her arousal had turned into shame.

  Perhaps she was making too big a deal of the whole thing. Was she like these men who feel rejected when their wives are no longer interested? Just like them, she had no right to demand sex. She wondered if they felt as humiliated by being turned away as she did now.

  Paula knew exactly how long it had been since the last time they’d had sex: four months and two days. It was the evening after they’d celebrated their eldest daughter’s tenth birthday. Even then, Paula had taken the initiative, but at least he responded and they had a great time. Paula thought they’d gotten better at it as the years went by, so she didn’t understand how it had come to this. Was there something he didn’t like? Did he think she’d become repulsive, even though she worked hard to keep her body in shape? Her figure had hardly changed since the day they’d met fifteen years ago. Fifteen years and two pregnancies! He’d even mentioned once that he was pleased to have such an attractive wife who hadn’t let herself go.

  Jens had always fixated on appearance. Paula’s friends were shocked when, on her fortieth birthday, he gave her plastic surgery for her breasts. But she understood. Jens took good care of his own body, so why shouldn’t he expect the same from her? It was only fair. He’d used Botox for his forehead wrinkles and Restylane for his cheeks, but no one was supposed to know about it. Since Jens liked a natural look, Paula’s breast operation involved only a slight increase. One hundred cc’s in one breast and one hundred fifty in the other. The needed lift had created a small T-shaped scar, but that had started to fade right away and could hardly be seen now.

  Paula still wondered why he’d insisted on the operation, since he’d never been all that interested in her breasts. He never touched them, not even when he was aroused. It almost seemed like he avoided that area. But really, the same thing applied to her vagina. Was her vagina too loose after having children? Was that the reason their sex life was dwindling? If that was the case, she was ready to undergo vaginal surgery to tighten things up. Her plastic surgeon performed those kinds of operations as well. But Jens had told her that her vagina wasn’t the reason, and then he indicated the subject was closed.

  Paula shut her eyes and wondered if she could fall back to sleep, but she realized at once it wouldn’t work. Instead, she set her feet on the well-oiled wooden floor, put on her robe, and looked for her slippers. She was confused. They weren’t where they were supposed to be. Had she left them downstairs by the television last night?

  She spent a moment in the bathroom and went downstairs, letting her hand drag along the glossy white wooden railing. The girls weren’t at home. School was closed on Thursday and Friday for a teacher’s retreat, so they’d gone with friends to a neighbor’s country house. The neighbors had often asked to host the girls at their place on Vaddö, and this long weekend had been the perfect opportunity.

  Paula had tried to be relaxed about the girls being gone until late Sunday night. It was unusual to have them away for so long. But she had done her best to look on the bright side. She’d be alone with Jens, and she’d planned yesterday in great detail. Dinner was ready by six.

  When Jens called to say that his plane would be late, Paula started to cry. Jens snapped at her, saying she should be grateful he’d called to save her a trip to the airport.

  She apologized and said they’d still have time together that weekend. When they hung up, she drank a glass of wine, and after two glasses, she went upstairs and took out her dildo. She’d bought it in secret a few months back because her fingers were no longer doing the trick. As usual, she finished quickly. She cleaned the dildo with soap and water, and felt ill. She hurried back downstairs to drink up the rest of the bottle.

  Now, she believed that the wine must still be affecting her head. She was dizzy when she reached the bottom stair, and she made a mental note to check to make sure she wasn’t suffering from anemia again. The doctor had told her to eat more meat, but she didn’t like the taste. In addition, Jens kept saying that meat was something modern people no longer needed.

  Suddenly, Paula jumped in surprise. Her slippers were in the middle of the kitchen, in front of the refrigerator. She looked around, pulling her robe tighter around her body. She didn’t remember going to the refrigerator before bed. Did she not remember because of that whole bottle of wine? She didn’t usually snack in the evening, not even when drinking. Perhaps Jens had put her slippers there last night by mistake. He knew she liked to slip her feet into them the moment she got up—maybe he’d meant to take them upstairs but had forgotten them halfway.

  Paula put on her slippers and opened the refrigerator. She took out soy milk to warm in the microwave and some Kusmi tea. She mixed the warm milk with granola and sliced in a third of a banana. When she found herself eating too quickly, she forced herself to chew thirty times before swallowing. It wasn’t easy. The food wanted to go down much faster than she could control. Her reflexes were strong. Carbs were her biggest enemy: she had to keep strict control over how much she ate, and giving in to carbs could ruin her character.

  Once Paula finished her breakfast, she stared at the empty bowl for a long time. She knew she shouldn’t eat anything more, but she decided to make another half portion. While waiting for the soy milk to heat up, she looked outside her window. A teenage boy was riding past her house on a bicycle, looking up at her and running a hand through his hair. Paula guessed he was seventeen or eighteen. He was fairly good-looking—like Jens when he was younger.

  The microwave beeped, and she opened the door at the same time her cell phone started to ring.

  A message:

  You look sexy when you’re asleep.

  She laughed as she read the text again. Then her brow furrowed. She didn’t recognize the sender’s number.

  She smiled while walking upstairs to the bedroom. Typical Jens—he’d probably sent it from one of his work numbers. It was the kind of thing he used to do
when they’d just fallen in love. She’d enjoyed his romantic surprises in those days.

  Still smiling, she opened the bedroom door—but she was startled to see Jens in bed and in the same position she’d left him in. Confused, she whispered, “Jens, are you sleeping?”

  He gave no answer. No reaction. Jens was completely asleep.

  Slowly, she walked back downstairs, her cell phone in her hand. She read the text a few more times and then deleted it. Someone must have texted the wrong number.

  CHAPTER 2

  Marianne had just received a phone call from Olle Lundqvist a quarter of an hour earlier. He was in the neighborhood and wondered whether he could come up and see her. He had an important question to ask. Marianne reluctantly agreed but asked for half an hour to get ready. She was worried about the state of her apartment. In the three months since her husband had passed away, she’d barely left home. She had always been proud of keeping her home virtually spotless. But this summer, she just hadn’t had much energy.

  She looked around and decided that twenty minutes would be enough time. She vacuumed the hallway, and then just the living room and around the sofa where she usually had her evening sandwiches. The strong sunshine showed a thick layer of dust on the leather ottoman she used as a coffee table, so she wiped it down with her sleeve. The polished wooden floors were protected by a worn Persian rug, and she noticed that it was time to take the rug in to the cleaner’s. No time now. She fluffed up the sofa—she’d slept there the night before—and realized it was time to change the slipcover from the white summer canvas to the blue- and gray-striped one for the winter season. The French balcony doors needed cleaning, too, but her visitor probably wouldn’t notice.

  As she walked back into the large hallway, she rearranged the plaid blanket over the armchair by the fireplace and repositioned the candlestick on the mantel. In the hall she removed the pile of mail that had accumulated on an antique desk. The hallway was now presentable, although she still ran her finger over the rim of the golden mirror frame and frowned at the dust.

  She closed the door to her bedroom. Olle wouldn’t need to go there. Down the hallway were the three bedrooms she herself seldom entered unless she had to get something stored in there. The rooms belonged to her three grown children, and she hadn’t yet started to redecorate them. That would have to be a future project.