Can I please speak to diana I asked shakily.

Diana. There is no diana at this number. You must have dialled the wrong one. What number did you want. I told her.

The number is correct she said but my name is linda. The phone number is a fairly recent subscription.

Thanks I said and ended the call.

180

THIRTYTHREE

Bror was sent to an institution for young offenders and learned to booze. I stayed at home with mother and learned to keep my mouth shut.

Kept my mouth shut about my swollen breasts morning sickness growing belly. I hid inside bulky sweaters until concealment was no longer an option.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want the baby. Not at all. I pretended it simply didn’t exist. Giving birth to father’s child was unthinkable. So it didn’t exist.

I was in my last year at school. Finally I was told to see the headmaster. The school psychologist was there too. They looked pityingly at me. Asked how I was. Did I need help. With what I asked. We’re here to help you right now johanna the psychologist said in that special way these people have of not quite knowing your name. I can come home with you. Does your mother know what’s happening to you. I shook my head. No not mother I said. Jesus is all she has.

A few weeks later I had a sore stomach. Ran to the loo and after quarter of an hour I had to go again. Mother came upstairs to my room and asked how. I said go away. She said your time has come. What time is that I asked. Time to go.

A few hours later a child was born.

She was lying on my chest. She was wet and bloody. Her light downy hair stuck to her head. 181

The nurse said tiny babies can’t smile.

She did smile.

The nurse said tiny babies can’t see.

She did see.

Our eyes met. Her gaze was as black as outer space.

Then they took her from me. No don’t I said. You’re not to.

They gave me an injection in my arm. Wrapped her in a blanket and lifted her up and carried her away. For as long as I could hear her she cried. She kept crying until I could no longer hear her.

You can’t keep your father’s child. You would hate her mother said.

You can’t become a mother at the age of fifteen. You would regret it the psychologist said.

Give my baby back to me I said.

But my baby was already someone else’s child to care for and to love.

182

THIRTYFOUR

Autumn had come. Some of us had counted the days like bairns counting the days left to christmas.

The first monday in september we met up in the hunt cabin. It was bucketing down. And still dark.