The day passes in a blur, with back-to-back clients, and it isn’t until 3 p.m. that I get a chance to check my email again. No response from Leah. The free slot I have is at the end of the day – at 4.30, and I decide to stay until then in case Leah gets in touch and wants to come by. My stomach growls and I realize I haven’t had lunch. There’s nothing but some dried crackers in my cupboard and I’m not in the mood for prepping something in the communal kitchen; someone will inevitably appear for a chat. I am feeling introspective and restless today, and just want to be in my own space. I message Eirik and ask about dinner plans, and though he reads my WhatsApp straight away, the minutes tick by with no response. I am used to this, but suddenly it makes me angry.

I walk downstairs and out into the misty rain – it’s the kind that doesn’t seem to dissolve into individual droplets, but that envelops you in a moist sheen. I cross the road to Kaffebrenneriet, which is entirely empty now, and place my order, a tall white Americano and a chicken-and-pesto baguette. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I glance at the message.

What time will you be here? Making butterflied chicken, your favorite! Will Eirik be joining us?

My mother. My heart sinks. I fish my calendar out of my handbag and realize that I had, in fact, written ‘Dinner with Mum’ on October 26th – today. She gets lonely when my father travels, and he is away this week in Iceland with the geology society he is a founding member of. I vaguely recall speaking to her on the phone last week and making dinner plans, but I completely forgot and don’t feel up for it – my mother can talk anyone’s head off and I’m simply not in the mood. I think about messaging Eirik again but he’s clearly forgotten too so I decide to just go on my own.

The next hour drags past and I’m irritable and unfocused, so I feel relieved when Leah doesn’t show up, hoping she’ll take the free slot on Wednesday morning instead. At 4.50 on the dot, I leave the office and walk fast alongside the heavily congested road by the royal park to the train station on the other side. Again, I see Leah in my mind, the way she rushed from the session on Friday and outside into the heavy rain. There was something ghostly about how she was swallowed up by the gloomy fog, like she had never existed at all, and I keep my eyes locked to the drenched pavement.

6

Kristina