Eline was looking at him with an expression that was troubled, and I wondered where Miriam was now.
So I arrive, with my chocolates and my bottle of wine, neither of which seems entirely right. Even from the outside the house is tremendous. Enormous, a nineteenth-century townhouse but with glass cubes affixed to the fa?ade in random places, almost likes postmodern growths. Inside, the house is even more impressive, it’s one of those new smart houses, with solar panels and a self-watering green roof to regulate the temperature, an atrium through the middle of the house, everything synced up to an iPad, I have no idea how they got the permits to do such things.
Eline was bringing bowls of soup to the table. Anton barely paused as he picked up his spoon, took a mouthful of soup, and reached for some bread. She set her own bowl down and sat across the table from him. She looked at me. Cheers, she said drily. He nodded in acknowledgment of the food, eating with extraordinary gusto and speed, and then continued.
I thought, I knew they were doing well, but I didn’t realize they were doing this well. And I wasn’t surprised they hadn’t invited anyone over yet, Lotte nervously explained that the house wasn’t finished, she said they would have a housewarming party as soon as they had fully moved in, and then suddenly added something about buying the house because it had such a good space for entertaining, they would be able to host fund-raisers and charity events. I nodded, they were clearly embarrassed by the incontrovertible evidence of their wealth, which had crossed over from the merely excessive to the truly obscene, without any of us really noticing.
But we all knew they were doing well, Eline said. She turned to me. Lars is a property developer, he’s responsible for those new apartments around the old train station. I nodded, those buildings had contributed to the rise of prices in Jana’s neighborhood and represented some of the fiercest gentrification in the city. I thought that Lars would have been a controversial figure in some circles, and I wondered if this was why he had kept so quiet about the expansion of his considerable fortune. Eline had used the word responsible, although that didn’t necessarily imply any particular judgment on her part, she had spoken neutrally enough.
Yes, Anton said. I knew they were doing well. He turned to address me and said by way of explanation, The money is from Lotte, who is as stupid and bourgeois as her name. But Lars is different, he’s a cunning animal and he’s turned all that nice old money into a real fortune. He laughed. You know, those buildings he’s put up are a total monstrosity, from an aesthetic point of view as well as a moral one.
I haven’t seen them, Eline said.
Haven’t you? Anton asked.
She looked away. Jana had first met Eline close to the site of the assault, if she had ventured so far into the neighborhood she would have seen the buildings, at least peripherally. I thought it likely Anton did not know that she had made the trip to the neighborhood, and I wondered what else she had not told him, what other secrets there might be between them.
Anyway, Anton continued, this house, it was a far cry from the monstrosities he’s built his fortune on, when it’s a question of his own living environment, he knows how to feather his nest. I thought it was a strange phrase, old-fashioned and a little affected, in the manner of his cane. He pressed on. Despite a certain initial coyness in their manner, I quickly realized that they were actually quite excited to be showing off their home, they dragged me from room to room, showing me the vast expanses of marble, the custom light fittings, the restored tile on the fireplace, I assure you once they hit their stride they were perfectly sanguine about hauling a cripple up and down the stairs.
Anton, Eline said in protest.
Well, I am, he said. With me, Lars and Lotte can wallow in their privilege without shame, Lotte can talk about the wallpaper and the finishes, it doesn’t matter how idiotic she appears because she’s only doing it before me, the cripple. I’m not exactly subhuman, but we all know where we stand in the pecking order, I’m several notches lower than the likes of them. Particularly in my current condition, such things simply don’t happen to people like Lars and Lotte.
But it might just as easily have—
Never mind, Anton said. Never mind, that isn’t the point. Let me finish. So Lars and Lotte are dragging me all over the house, the kitchen, the pantry, the guest room, even into their bedroom for Christ’s sake, with the king-sized bed and the Frette linens and the foul stench of bourgeois sex, which is of course the most perverse sex of all, when Lotte opens a final door and says in a voice of particularly shy triumph—oh, I do like Lotte, it’s not her fault she’s so stupid—And this is the library.