Cinderella Girl Read Free Page A

one across the mouth and nose, things calmed down and he was left lying, half in a stupor, on thefloor in the darkened hallway. He sensed how his father lumbered back to the armchair in the living room and impassively started rustling the newspaper.
    In his mind’s eye he saw Jennifer – her round form in tight jeans, her soft, glistening lips and happy, grey-blue eyes that at any moment, unexpectedly, might take on an introverted, almost shy expression. Tomorrow he would dance with her on the Finland ferry and he would treat her to colourful drinks in the bar. They would sleep together; he would get to touch the soft, downy-white skin that peeked out between her waistband and her top, and he would taste her warm, shimmering lips.
    He must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes the lights were off in the living room. After carefully moving his arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken, he pulled himself up on to all fours and, supporting himself against the door, slowly got up. His belly ached, and he avoided touching his throbbing nose as he stumbled to the bathroom as quietly as he could. He closed the door behind him before he turned on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. One half of his face was covered with dried blood and his upper lip was split and swollen. As he gingerly felt his nose, it made an unpleasant crunching sound around the bridge. He wet some toilet paper under the cold tap and dabbed his nose and split lip. Then he carefully washed the uninjured parts of his face and brushed his teeth.
    He put the toothbrush and toothpaste into a washbag and took it with him into the small corridor outside the bathroom, where he dug a gym bag out of a cupboard. He emptied the workout clothes into one of the wire baskets inthe cupboard and replaced them with a few pairs of clean underwear, a shirt, a pair of jeans and the washbag. Then he snuck back out to the hall and tied his trainers in the dark.
    Then he did something he had never dared to do before: he put his hand in the inside pocket of his father’s coat, hauled up his wallet and counted three thousand kronor. He took fifteen hundred, returned the wallet, tucked his own jacket under his arm and the bag over his shoulder, and slipped out to the stairwell. He took a look at his watch and saw that it was only half past ten.
    * * *
    Conny Sjöberg tidied up and Åsa packed. The family – five children aged between two and nine, Åsa, and himself – had spent Friday evening with his mother, who lived in an apartment in Bollmora, a half-hour drive south of the city. It was late by the time they had got home, and once all the children were in bed Åsa started gathering up clean clothes and toys for the next day. She and the kids were taking the train to Linköping to visit her parents for a few days. Simon and Sara had Monday off from school and Åsa was not teaching that day, so they would not return until Monday evening.
    Sjöberg opened the dishwasher, pulled out the baskets and turned over the cups to tip out any water that had collected. Then he went over all the five rooms of the apartment with a meticulous gaze, making sure all the bits and pieces had been put in their proper places. Not until everything was in order could he relax and enjoy his home.
    It was the same at work; he couldn’t concentrate ona task if there were papers and binders spread out across the desk. Binders neatly set up on the bookshelf behind the desk, loose papers in tidy piles, and office supplies, such as the pen holder and hole punch, symmetrically lined up at a good distance from the work surface itself; this created a calm, harmonious work environment with no unnecessary disruption.
    When he had finished he put the kettle on and made a few sandwiches with the meatloaf from yesterday’s dinner. He lit the candles on the kitchen table, poured hot water over the tea leaves and set the teapot on the table.
    ‘Complaining and criticizing as always,’ said