Dancing in the Dark: My Struggle Book 4 Read Online Free PDF

Knausgaard,’ I said.
    ’Frank,’ the tall guy said, reaching out a hand, which was enormous. His face was as round as the other man’s was square. Round and fleshy. His lips were thick, the skin was delicate, pink almost. Hair blond and thinning. He looked like an oversized child. His eyes were kind, also like a child’s.
    ‘Can we come in?’ the one called Remi said. ‘We heard you were on your own up here and thought you might like some company. I suppose you don’t know anyone in the village yet.’
    ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That was kind of you. Do come in!’
    I took a step back.
Kind! Do come in!
Where the hell did that come from? Was I fifty?
    They stopped in the sitting room and looked around. Remi nodded a few times.
    ‘Harrison lived here last year,’ he said.
    I looked at him.
    ‘The previous temporary teacher,’ he said. ‘We often sat here. He was a great guy.’
    ‘A good guy,’ Frank said.
    ‘
No
wasn’t a word in his vocabulary,’ Remi said.
    ‘He’s already deeply missed,’ Frank said. ‘Can we sit down?’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? I’ve got some on the go.’
    ‘Coffee? Yes, please.’
    They took off their jackets, laid them across the arm of the sofa and sat down. Their bodies were like barrels. The upper arms of the one called Frank were as wide as my thighs. Even with my back to them, in front of the worktop, I could feel their presence, it filled the whole flat and made me feel weak and girly.
    That was kind of you. Would you like a cup of coffee?
    For Christ’s sake, I didn’t have any cups! Only the one I had brought with me.
    I opened the cupboards above the worktop. Empty, of course. Then I opened the lower ones. And there, next to the downpipe from the sink, was a glass. I rinsed it, sprinkled some coffee in the jug, banged it on the tabletop a few times, carried it into the sitting room and looked around for something to put it on.
    It had to be
The Garden of Eden
.
    ‘Well?’ Remi said. ‘What do you reckon, Karl Ove?’
    I was uncomfortable at hearing my name used so familiarly by a man I had never seen before and felt my cheeks flush.
    ‘Don’t really know,’ I said.
    ‘We’re going to a party tonight,’ Frank said. ‘Over in Gryllefjord. Fancy coming along?’
    ‘There’s a place free in the car, and we know you won’t have had time to go to the Vinmonopol, so we’ve got some booze for you too. What do you think?’
    ‘Not sure,’ I said.
    ‘What? Would you rather mope around here in this empty flat?’
    ‘Let the man make his own mind up!’ Frank said.
    ‘Yeah, right.’
    ‘I’d planned to do some work,’ I said.
    ‘Work? What on?’ Remi said. But his eyes were already fixed on the typewriter. ‘Do you write?’
    I flushed again.
    ‘A bit,’ I said with a shrug.
    ‘Ah, a writer!’ Remi said. ‘Not bad.’
    He laughed.
    ‘I’ve never read a book in my life. Not even when I went to school. I always got out of it. Have you?’ he said, looking at Frank.
    ‘Yes, lots.
Cocktail
.’
    They both burst into laughter.
    ‘Does that count?’ Remi said, looking at me. ‘You’re a writer. Does porn count as literature?’
    I gave a strained smile.
    ‘Fiction is fiction, I suppose,’ I said.
    There was a silence.
    ‘You’re from Kristiansand, I hear,’ Frank said.
    I nodded.
    ‘Have you got a girl down there?’
    I mulled that one over.
    ‘Yes and no,’ I said.
    ‘Yes and no? That sounds interesting!’ Remi said.
    ‘Sounds like something for you,’ Frank said with a glance at Remi.
    ‘For me? No. I’m more the either-or type.’
    There was another silence as they took a mouthful of coffee.
    ‘Have you got any children?’ Remi said.
    ‘Children?’ I said. ‘Bloody hell. I’m only eighteen!’
    At last a comment from the heart.
    ‘It’s happened before in the history of the world,’ Remi said.
    ‘Have you two got children then?’ I said.
    ‘Frank hasn’t. But I have. A son of nine.