Closed for Winter by Jørn Lier Horst

to embrace her.
    She wriggled free. She had heard him say that too many times before.
    The first six months with Tommy had been ecstatic. She hardly ate, hardly slept, and every hour away from him had felt like a meaningless waste of time. She was head over heels in love, and the protestations of her girlfriends were simply irritating. Kaja, one of Line’s best friends from the newspaper, had appeared at the flat one evening, clutching a bottle of wine, full of good intentions. After a couple of glasses, Kaja delivered pragmatic advice together with remarks about Tommy’s background, his lack of education, his family relationships. She thought it obvious that he was not a suitable life partner for Line. The evening had ended with Line showing her the door, offended by her lack of faith in her, and more certain than before of her love for Tommy.
    Now the intensity of their love had diminished she reluctantly had to admit that Kaja had a point. Lack of education and a few mistakes in his past were not in themselves problematic, but it felt as though large parts of Tommy’s life were hidden from her, and in recent months anxiety had overwhelmed her happiness. A week earlier she had done something she could have sworn she would never do and checked Tommy’s text messages when he was in the shower.
    Trembling, she had scrolled through his inbox, searching for answers to the questions that troubled her night and day, but had emerged none the wiser. She had found no sign of infidelity, only business appointments and innocuous messages from people involved in Shazam Station . Afterwards, she had felt ashamed, and the only way she was able to forget her disgrace and disquiet was to lose herself in Tommy’s arms.
    She completely recognised how clichéd her situation was, but that did not improve matters. Accustomed to being in control of her life, even after her mother’s death she had understood who she was and what was right for her. However, she was now on the verge of disintegrating and needed to be alone for a while, to renew contact with old girlfriends, go for walks, take exercise, and discover what kind of life she really wanted. In Tommy’s company she lived from day to day; she had adopted his habits, and it was becoming clear that this was not the route to a harmonious life. She was robust, but needed some measure of predictability at home. As her job was full of surprising twists and turns and grotesque assignments, she needed to feel secure with her nearest and dearest, but she did not feel even safe with Tommy. He held his cards too close to his chest, communicated physically rather than verbally, seemed troubled and restless but refused to concede that something was worrying him.
    ‘This isn’t working anymore,’ she repeated.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The two of us,’ she said, pointing from him to herself. ‘I no longer know if this is what I want.’
    He did not speak, but simply continued to stand, clasping the beer bottle he had picked up again, clutching it to his chest as he looked at her.
    ‘I need some time to myself,’ she declared.
    This was a tentative method of articulating her intentions. Nevertheless she noticed a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes. She gave all her thoughts expression through words and once they were set free, they continued to spill out. She had to make a determined effort to remain calm.
    ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head.
    ‘Maybe that’s the problem, she suggested.
    He was about to say something, but was interrupted by a signal from his mobile phone. He read the message and glanced up at her. ‘Can we talk about this tomorrow?’ he asked, putting down the beer bottle.
    ‘Are you going out again?’
    ‘There are some problems down at Shazam ,’ he said, lifting his jacket. ‘They need me.’
    She wanted to say that she needed him too, but that was no longer true. ‘I won’t be here when you come back,’ she said instead.
    He sighed, continuing