Cinderella Girl Read Free Page B

Åsa as she sat down.
    ‘She’s just that way, I guess,’ sighed Sjöberg.
    ‘And yet she’s so considerate and nice to the kids. And to us too. Why does she have to be so hard on herself?’
    ‘I guess it’s insecurity. She’s shy, that’s all. Low self-esteem. Doesn’t really know how to behave, but has a sense that she does everything wrong. Class and education complex.’
    ‘There’s always something wrong with the food, the sweater she’s knitted has turned out ugly, and the coffee is too strong. She’s always criticizing herself – never us though, and that’s good – but the food
does
taste unappetizing after she’s pointed out everything that’s wrong with it while we’re eating. It’s really a shame she’s that way, that she can’t be happy about anything.’
    Sjöberg served the tea and poured a heaped tablespoon of sugar into his own cup.
    ‘She’s happy when Sweden wins,’ he said with a wry smile.
    ‘Sure, but that’s not real joy – that’s just sport. Where does this interest in sport come from anyway? Older women aren’t usually interested in sport, and she’s very concerned about not being different.’
    ‘Well, Dad was interested in sport, I guess maybe that’s where it came from. And she doesn’t read. I suppose it’s good that she’s interested in something.’
    ‘Well, I didn’t mean it like that,’ said Åsa, taking a bite of her sandwich. ‘It’s great that she’s interested in hockey and football and athletics and skiing and all that, it’s just a little odd, you have to agree. It doesn’t fit the image somehow … What was she like when your dad was alive?’
    ‘I don’t remember.’
    Sjöberg washed down his sandwich with a few gulps of hot tea.
    ‘I only remember that she was very subdued while he was in the hospital. Not much was said about it, and I never got to visit him. I was so little, I must have been about three.’
    ‘That’s another thing that’s strange about your family: you
think
he had cancer. How come you don’t
know
that?’
    ‘But Åsa, you know how she is! She doesn’t remember anything, or at least she just doesn’t want to talk about it.’
    ‘Exactly! It would be interesting to know what you were like as a child, for example. Were you naughty, did you sleep well at night, did you have a dummy or did you suck your thumb, how old were you when you started to walk, and so on. You can’t find out any of those things. And you don’t remember all that much either,’ she added.
    ‘I grew up in a working-class home, you grew up in anacademic home,’ said Sjöberg. ‘Everything I know I’ve had to learn on my own. I bought my first book with my pocket money. You just opened your mouth and they poured knowledge and education into you.’
    ‘Oh, my little disadvantaged child,’ said Åsa with half-genuine, half-pretended tenderness, stroking him on the cheek. ‘In any case I love you most in the whole world.’
    Sjöberg took his wife’s hand and kissed the back of it. A slight noise came from the little boys’ room and they both froze for a moment. Just when the danger seemed to be over, the scream came and Åsa ran off on tiptoe, so as not to disturb the other children.
    Then the phone rang.
    ‘Who was on the phone?’ asked Åsa when she came back into the kitchen. ‘Do you have to work?’
    ‘No, it was my mother,’ sighed Sjöberg. ‘She fell down from a stool and seems to have broken a rib. I have to drive back over there and see how she’s doing. I may have to take her to casualty.’
    ‘If it’s not one thing it’s another. She’s not in any great danger though?’
    ‘No, she’s feeling okay otherwise. She got herself into bed, but apparently it hurts. I’m sorry I have to take off.’
    ‘A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. I’ll go to bed anyway,’ said Åsa. ‘Give me a kiss when you come back.’
    ‘It’s already ten-thirty; it’s going to be really late.’
    ‘It doesn’t matter.