The Bat(96)

‘Kristin and I met in secret. Until it was no longer secret.’

‘How did Terje take it?’

‘Well. Sometimes people react in textbook manner. Terje told his friends to choose: him or me. I think it was a landslide victory. In favour of the boy with the whitest teeth in the school.’

‘That must have been terrible. Were you lonely?’

‘I don’t know what was worst. Or who I pitied most. Terje or myself.’

‘At least you and Kristin had each other.’

‘True, but some of the magic had gone. The ideal girl was gone, you see.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I had a girl who had left a boy for his best friend.’

‘And for her you were the boy who had unscrupulously used his best friend to get in with her.’

‘Exactly. And that would always be there. Under the surface maybe, but nevertheless smouldering away with unspoken, mutual contempt. As though we were accomplices responsible for a scandalous murder.’

‘So you had to make do with a relationship that wasn’t perfect. Welcome to reality!’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I think our common sins in many ways bound us closer together. I think we really did love each other for a while. Some days were . . . perfect. Like drops of water. Like a beautiful painting.’

Birgitta laughed. ‘I like you when you talk, Harry. Your eyes seem to light up when you say things like that. As if you’re back there. Do you long to go back?’

‘To Kristin?’ Harry wondered. ‘I may long to go back to the time we were together, but to Kristin? People change. The person you long for may no longer exist. Bloody hell, we all change, don’t we. Once something has been experienced, it’s too late, you can’t get back the feeling of experiencing the same thing for the first time. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is.’

‘Like being in love for the first time?’ Birgitta said quietly.

‘Like being in love . . . for the first time,’ Harry said, caressing her cheek. Then he took another deep breath.

‘There’s something I have to ask you, Birgitta. A favour.’

The music was deafening and Harry had to lean in to hear what he was saying. Teddy was effusing about his new shooting star, Melissa, who was nineteen years old and, right now, setting the place on fire, which, Harry had to admit, was no exaggeration.

‘Rumours. That’s what does it, you know,’ Teddy said. ‘You can advertise and market as much as you like, but ultimately there’s only one thing that sells, the rumour mill.’

And rumours had obviously done their job because for the first time in ages the club was nearly full. After Melissa’s cowboy and lasso number the men were on their chairs, and even the female minority was applauding politely. ‘See,’ Teddy said. ‘That’s not because she’s found a novelty number, it’s classic striptease, God knows it is. We’ve had a dozen girls here doing the same number and no one raised an eyebrow. The reason this is different: innocence and emotion.’

From experience, however, Teddy knew that such waves of popularity were sadly a passing phase. On the one hand, the public was always on the lookout for something new; on the other, this industry had a nasty tendency to consume its own offspring.

‘Good striptease requires enthusiasm, you know,’ Teddy shouted over the disco rhythms. ‘Not many of these girls can maintain the enthusiasm, however hard they work at it. Four shows, every fuckin’ day. You lose interest and forget the crowds. I’ve seen it happen too many times before. Doesn’t matter how popular you are, a trained eye can see when a star is extinguished.’

‘How?’

‘Well, they’re dancers, aren’t they. They have to listen to the music, get inside it, you know. When they’re “edgy” and a tiny bit ahead of the beat, it’s not what you might think, a sign that they’re overenthusiastic. Quite the opposite, it’s a sign they’re fed up and want to get it over with asap. Also, often subconsciously, they cut down on the movements so that it becomes more suggestive than complete. It’s the same with people who have told the same joke too many times; they start leaving out the small but vital details that make you laugh at the punchline. That’s the kind of thing it’s difficult to do anything about – body language doesn’t lie, and it transmits itself to the audience, you know. The girls are aware of the problem and to spice up the show, to help it take off, they have a few drinks before going onstage. Occasionally a few too many. And then . . .’ Teddy held a finger against one nostril and sniffed.