write a message to these people one after another, explaining to them who we are, that we work for the newspaper and that we're doing a story about Mads and we're going to write about him, a nice portrait about the person he was before the accident and then wait for them to take the bait."
18
April 2012
T HEY GOT A SUITE at one of the many five-star resorts stretching along Alanya's silky sand beaches on the southern coast of Turkey. Mads and Signe soon visited all the attractions, sun-bathed during the day and partied well into the night. They took a Dolmuş to visit the Alanya castle and saw the Red tower on one day, on another they took a boat trip and saw all the caves, then they went scuba diving, and later on a Jeep Safari and even rode a donkey one day. They rented scooters or walked and soon they had seen everything. Signe had gotten a nice tan and was bored with lying on the beach, trying to sleep away her hangovers. Mads was getting more and more dull again and she was tired of the way he constantly jumped around and served her, like he was her little monkey. He made sure she had everything she needed and it annoyed her more than ever. They went shopping excessively to make Signe happy, but the joy didn't last long. Spending money like they didn't care was fun at first, but soon became dull. There were no more dresses she wanted to buy and no more shoes or souvenirs she desired. After a week and a half, Signe believed she had seen it all and she was starting to lose interest. In both the town and in him.
"So what do you want to do today?" Mads asked over breakfast.
A small part of the omelet was stuck in his beard as he spoke. He was beginning to look like a bush-man, Signe thought, and felt like shaving him, but even that thought bored her.
"I got another e-mail from my mom," Mads continued.
Signe didn't even bother to look at him. She scrolled her news feed on Facebook. No one at home seemed to be doing anything interesting either. It was still boringly cold in Denmark and they were—as usual—expecting spring to come right around the corner. One of her friends had posted a picture of her and her boyfriend sitting outside in their yard enjoying the sun wearing big winter jackets and beanies. That was Denmark in the spring for you, Signe thought to herself. Who needed that?
"What does she want?" Signe asked without caring about the answer.
"She’s asking us when we're coming home. She found a house that she thinks will be perfect for us."
"She has now, has she?" Signe answered without interest.
"Yeah. So what do you want me to tell her?"
Signe shrugged and finished her coffee. "I don't know. Tell her we don't know. What do I care? She's your mother."
"Yes, but when are we coming home?" Mads asked. "We have to get back at some point. I'm supposed to start in my dad's firm as soon as we do. We should at least give them something to work with, don't you think we owe that to them?"
Signe looked at her husband. She hated that he always wanted to be so sensible. She didn't enjoy that side of him. She liked his adventurous side. She liked it when he went crazy with jealousy or with rage or passion. Oh, how she longed for passion, some sort of spark in him and in her life as well. Something to let her know that they were still alive and not just another dead couple, just waiting for life to be over.
She wanted more out of her time here on this boring earth.
"We don't owe them anything," she said with a grin.
"We are, after all, living off the money they gave us." Mads sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what we were thinking. I mean, it’s been fun and all, but how are we going to explain it to my parents?"
Signe shrugged with a light grin. "We don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't explain it," she said and took another bite of the sugary croissant that she had pushed into the middle of the table because she thought was done.
Mads wrinkled his forehead. Signe hated when he did that. It was
18
April 2012
T HEY GOT A SUITE at one of the many five-star resorts stretching along Alanya's silky sand beaches on the southern coast of Turkey. Mads and Signe soon visited all the attractions, sun-bathed during the day and partied well into the night. They took a Dolmuş to visit the Alanya castle and saw the Red tower on one day, on another they took a boat trip and saw all the caves, then they went scuba diving, and later on a Jeep Safari and even rode a donkey one day. They rented scooters or walked and soon they had seen everything. Signe had gotten a nice tan and was bored with lying on the beach, trying to sleep away her hangovers. Mads was getting more and more dull again and she was tired of the way he constantly jumped around and served her, like he was her little monkey. He made sure she had everything she needed and it annoyed her more than ever. They went shopping excessively to make Signe happy, but the joy didn't last long. Spending money like they didn't care was fun at first, but soon became dull. There were no more dresses she wanted to buy and no more shoes or souvenirs she desired. After a week and a half, Signe believed she had seen it all and she was starting to lose interest. In both the town and in him.
"So what do you want to do today?" Mads asked over breakfast.
A small part of the omelet was stuck in his beard as he spoke. He was beginning to look like a bush-man, Signe thought, and felt like shaving him, but even that thought bored her.
"I got another e-mail from my mom," Mads continued.
Signe didn't even bother to look at him. She scrolled her news feed on Facebook. No one at home seemed to be doing anything interesting either. It was still boringly cold in Denmark and they were—as usual—expecting spring to come right around the corner. One of her friends had posted a picture of her and her boyfriend sitting outside in their yard enjoying the sun wearing big winter jackets and beanies. That was Denmark in the spring for you, Signe thought to herself. Who needed that?
"What does she want?" Signe asked without caring about the answer.
"She’s asking us when we're coming home. She found a house that she thinks will be perfect for us."
"She has now, has she?" Signe answered without interest.
"Yeah. So what do you want me to tell her?"
Signe shrugged and finished her coffee. "I don't know. Tell her we don't know. What do I care? She's your mother."
"Yes, but when are we coming home?" Mads asked. "We have to get back at some point. I'm supposed to start in my dad's firm as soon as we do. We should at least give them something to work with, don't you think we owe that to them?"
Signe looked at her husband. She hated that he always wanted to be so sensible. She didn't enjoy that side of him. She liked his adventurous side. She liked it when he went crazy with jealousy or with rage or passion. Oh, how she longed for passion, some sort of spark in him and in her life as well. Something to let her know that they were still alive and not just another dead couple, just waiting for life to be over.
She wanted more out of her time here on this boring earth.
"We don't owe them anything," she said with a grin.
"We are, after all, living off the money they gave us." Mads sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what we were thinking. I mean, it’s been fun and all, but how are we going to explain it to my parents?"
Signe shrugged with a light grin. "We don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't explain it," she said and took another bite of the sugary croissant that she had pushed into the middle of the table because she thought was done.
Mads wrinkled his forehead. Signe hated when he did that. It was
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