Page 57 of The Sleepwalker
‘What kind of fucking question is that?’
‘I brought some great red wine, malt whisky .?.?.’
‘You’re kidding, right? I’ve got four hours before I have to go,’ she says, kicking off her silver pumps.
‘I’m just trying to be polite.’
‘You’re just a prude,’ she says, turning to him again.
‘That’s not true. I’m not – not with you.’
‘With your sweet little wife, though. With her jewellery that’s so expensive it looks fake, and all the botox, spandex and Wolford tights.’
‘OK,’ he says with a calm smile, setting the glass down on the table.
‘I don’t know why you don’t just fuck some life into her.’
‘We have sex. You know that.’
‘You make love.’
‘We—’
‘You make love,’ she cuts him off. ‘It’s not the same thing.’
‘You seem to know everything.’
‘I just think it’s funny to hear you defend her before you tear my knickers off.’
‘You know I’m addicted to you,’ he says, getting up.
‘Say that again.’
‘You’re like a drug, Kimberly.’
She laughs contentedly and pulls the zipper of her dress down from her armpit to her hip. One of the silver sequins drops to the floor.
‘Like coke?’ she asks.
‘Better.’
‘Crystal meth?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Crystal meth,’ she repeats with a smile.
‘Now?’
She raises an eyebrow, and he goes to fetch a brown leather case from his bag. He puts it on the table, sits down and takes out an old shaving mirror with a slim metal frame.
Out of nowhere, the feeling that someone is watching him makes him glance over to the window again. The glass is dark, but there could easily be someone standing just outside, looking in at them.
He should draw the curtains, he thinks as the image of someone drawing a sad face in the frost on the window takes over his thoughts.
‘The clock’s ticking,’ she mutters impatiently.
Pontus breaks the seal on a small glass tube, takes out the cork and taps the contents onto the mirror.
