Page 163 of The Sleepwalker
‘No, I get it. Guys are always saying that all sex is good, even if it’s bad, but that’s just .?.?. not true.’
‘No,’ she whispers, looking down again.
‘What’re you thinking?’
‘That what you said before made me happy, about beingattracted to me .?.?. Even though you weren’t being serious. I mean, we don’t even know each other, but still .?.?.’
They do another shot, and he sees her shudder. The rising alcohol content of his blood is making his lips tingle, his eyes struggling to focus.
‘I think I’m starting to get drunk,’ he says.
‘That doesn’t count as a confession.’
‘No, I’m just saying.’
‘Good.’
‘OK, another truth .?.?. I’m kind of sceptical about the medication they’ve got me on, and I’ve tried to talk to Lars about it, but I’m too scared of conflict to actually stand my ground,’ he says.
‘What are you taking?’
‘Zopiclone, obviously, which is fine,’ he replies. ‘And then Mirtazapine and Tramadol, which both make me sleepwalk more than usual – or that’s how it feels, anyway .?.?. but Lars is convinced that small doses have the opposite effect.’
‘I’ve got it into my head that he comes into my room and watches me while I’m sleeping,’ she says in a low voice.
‘Why?’
‘Because sometimes, when I wake up, I can smell his weird aftershave.’
‘Ugh, creepy,’ he whispers.
‘Yup.’
‘I mean, it’s different with sleepwalkers, I get that,’ he says. ‘Obviously they have to bring me back to my room sometimes.’
‘Do they?’
‘I don’t know, I guess so,’ he says, refilling their cups.
‘OK, listen,’ she says, looking at him with a solemn face. ‘I’ve got an idea. I could put a wireless minicam on you, and that way we can see exactly what happens.’
57
Svanhildur is unsteady on her feet when she comes back into the pantry with the small camera. She shows Hugo how to attach it and start the recording, explaining that the lens won’t be visible once it is in place.
He catches her hand and feels the heat of her skin, her trembling nerves, then looks deep into her glittering eyes, bends down, kisses her softly on the lips and says goodnight.
‘Night,’ she replies, unable to stop herself from grinning.
As Hugo leaves her room, he hears her lock the door behind him. He staggers down the corridor, keeping one hand on the wall to stay upright. Her heartbreaking smile is all he can think about, and he makes a promise to himself to look out for her.
He can feel the effects of the tequila as he brushes his teeth, then he takes his pills and calls for a nurse to come and attach his night sensors.
Once he is alone again, he takes out the little camera and fastens it to his pyjamas just as Svanhildur showed him.
The lens looks like a tiny black pearl in the buttonhole of his shirt.
He turns out the light and sees the small green LED from the camera above his bed, plus the dull grey glow of the polysomnographic equipment.
