What else could be done with that picture? How far could she get from what she was, or had once been?
She was finished with Zako. Had started looking for a new apartment. Wouldn’t have any problem paying back what she owed him. If the worst came to the worst, ask at home. Not Mother, obviously, but Mailin, who would send money immediately, no questions asked … The thought of her sister brought a stop to the long, flowing movements of the hairbrush. She sat there squeezing it in her hand. The eyes in the mirror held her. Something had happened. Three days ago. Yet again Zako had insisted that she escort some businessmen for an evening on the town. He had three or four girls who earned money for him that way. He provided the service, it brought in a lot of money, and he let them keep quite a bit for themselves. They didn’t have to sleep with anyone, just hang around at receptions and go to nightclubs. With unlimited access to champagne, coke and the best restaurants in town , in Zako’s tempting description. Rikke was just about hooked. Easy money , he promised. He sounded like a used-car salesman, and it started Liss off laughing. He asked what the big joke was. And that was when she dropped the hint, the thing she’d now made up her mind about, that she was going to break with him. His eyes darkened. Maybe you don’t give a damn about what happens to you ,he hissed, but you’ve got someone you do give a damn about, just like everyone does. What do you mean? she had to ask, suddenly struggling to hide her uncertainty. Don’t you have a sister? Then something happened that hadn’t happened for a long time. The light in the room changed. It got brighter, and at the same time seemed to sort of withdraw. Aren’t I here? She felt the thought race through her, and a pounding began in her chest, so hard she had to take a hold of herself just to go on breathing. And at the same time, that other thought: he mustn’t see what’s happening to me . She held on tight to the edge of the table. He smirked. Didn’t say anything, just that smirk, as though to show her that he knew he had her now.
She put down the hairbrush, pulled on her jersey and trousers. Zako had no idea how idiotic it was of him to try to bring her sister into it. The final straw. She would make that blindingly clear to him next time they met.
She put her mascara on, a thin layer, took out her eyeshadow. Suddenly she saw Mailin in her mind’s eye. Standing in front of a bed. She’s wearing pyjamas, and even though the room is in darkness, Liss knows that they’re pale blue. Her sister’s hair is gathered in two long braids, the way she used to have it when she was a child. She’s standing there saying something or other.
Liss tossed her make-up into her bag, took her leather jacket down from its peg, let herself out of the dressing room. From the kitchen she could hear Wim talking to one of the other photographers he shared the studio with. She stole out so quietly they didn’t hear her.
Close on midnight. Packed at the Café Alto. The quartet on the stage in the innermost recess of the cramped premises began playing a tune announced by the pianist as ‘Before I Met You’. Liss knew him. He was American and had been out with a couple of the girls from her design class. Now he sat hunched over in the half-dark, staring in what looked like surprise at his own hands as they ran up and down the keyboard.
Rikke waved from a table over by the stairs, shuffled up the bench to make room. Zako had his back turned and was talking to a guy at the next table. Once Liss had wriggled her way in, Rikke leaned over to her. – Zako thinks you’re starting to avoid him, she said with her mouth pressed to Liss’s ear.
Liss had to laugh. Was Rikke doing his talking for him now? Only then did Zako turn round. His eyes were shining, and it might have looked as though he was having fun, but she knew him by now. He leaned across the table, put a hand on her
She was finished with Zako. Had started looking for a new apartment. Wouldn’t have any problem paying back what she owed him. If the worst came to the worst, ask at home. Not Mother, obviously, but Mailin, who would send money immediately, no questions asked … The thought of her sister brought a stop to the long, flowing movements of the hairbrush. She sat there squeezing it in her hand. The eyes in the mirror held her. Something had happened. Three days ago. Yet again Zako had insisted that she escort some businessmen for an evening on the town. He had three or four girls who earned money for him that way. He provided the service, it brought in a lot of money, and he let them keep quite a bit for themselves. They didn’t have to sleep with anyone, just hang around at receptions and go to nightclubs. With unlimited access to champagne, coke and the best restaurants in town , in Zako’s tempting description. Rikke was just about hooked. Easy money , he promised. He sounded like a used-car salesman, and it started Liss off laughing. He asked what the big joke was. And that was when she dropped the hint, the thing she’d now made up her mind about, that she was going to break with him. His eyes darkened. Maybe you don’t give a damn about what happens to you ,he hissed, but you’ve got someone you do give a damn about, just like everyone does. What do you mean? she had to ask, suddenly struggling to hide her uncertainty. Don’t you have a sister? Then something happened that hadn’t happened for a long time. The light in the room changed. It got brighter, and at the same time seemed to sort of withdraw. Aren’t I here? She felt the thought race through her, and a pounding began in her chest, so hard she had to take a hold of herself just to go on breathing. And at the same time, that other thought: he mustn’t see what’s happening to me . She held on tight to the edge of the table. He smirked. Didn’t say anything, just that smirk, as though to show her that he knew he had her now.
She put down the hairbrush, pulled on her jersey and trousers. Zako had no idea how idiotic it was of him to try to bring her sister into it. The final straw. She would make that blindingly clear to him next time they met.
She put her mascara on, a thin layer, took out her eyeshadow. Suddenly she saw Mailin in her mind’s eye. Standing in front of a bed. She’s wearing pyjamas, and even though the room is in darkness, Liss knows that they’re pale blue. Her sister’s hair is gathered in two long braids, the way she used to have it when she was a child. She’s standing there saying something or other.
Liss tossed her make-up into her bag, took her leather jacket down from its peg, let herself out of the dressing room. From the kitchen she could hear Wim talking to one of the other photographers he shared the studio with. She stole out so quietly they didn’t hear her.
Close on midnight. Packed at the Café Alto. The quartet on the stage in the innermost recess of the cramped premises began playing a tune announced by the pianist as ‘Before I Met You’. Liss knew him. He was American and had been out with a couple of the girls from her design class. Now he sat hunched over in the half-dark, staring in what looked like surprise at his own hands as they ran up and down the keyboard.
Rikke waved from a table over by the stairs, shuffled up the bench to make room. Zako had his back turned and was talking to a guy at the next table. Once Liss had wriggled her way in, Rikke leaned over to her. – Zako thinks you’re starting to avoid him, she said with her mouth pressed to Liss’s ear.
Liss had to laugh. Was Rikke doing his talking for him now? Only then did Zako turn round. His eyes were shining, and it might have looked as though he was having fun, but she knew him by now. He leaned across the table, put a hand on her
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