I'm begging you to

Chapter 10 - The call

Silence again. Then she heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end.

"Agnetha?"

Frida's voice, which until now had sounded annoyed by such an early call that had definitely woken her up, changed abruptly. Now her voice sounded very soft and gentle. Agnetha noticed that Frida could not hide her surprise. And at the same time she suddenly felt incredibly bad about calling her at this time. About the fact that she had woken her up so early without any real reason. Without even having thought about why she was doing it and what she actually wanted to say. She opened her mouth but her voice was so low and hoarse that it broke in mid-word.

"Frida... I..."

She took a deep breath. She had said her name. To her. A wave of emotion threatened to overtake her and her head was as if enveloped in a fog.

"I.. I don't even know why I'm calling. It's late.. or early."

She tried to laugh a little to lighten the situation, but it didn't work. At the other end of the line it was quiet except for a low hissing sound. But she knew Frida was still listening to her.

"I didn't look at the clock. I... I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm.. sorry for disturbing you. I didn't mean to wake you."

Now Frida raised her voice and, unlike Agnetha, seemed quite composed.

"Agnetha? Are you okay?"

She spoke Swedish now. Even at 4 am she could easily switch languages. Agnetha knew that Frida was better at languages than she was.

Suddenly Agnetha was overcome by a feeling that almost forced her to ask the woman on the other end random questions just so she could continue to hear her voice. It was almost like a drug she had done without for years, to the point where she thought she could live without it. That it was okay and that she was fine. But instead she knew she had only repressed that feeling, that longing and was now at the point where she just had to call her or she would have gone completely mad. She wanted to lie. Tell her something trivial. But Frida always knew when something was wrong. From day one.

"I'm okay. Yes, I've been doing well. I go for a lot of walks, or at least try to do so alongside work. But it's also good to be back at work. It almost takes your mind off of the stress of... of everyday life. So yes mhh I recorded an album on my own. Maybe you have heard... And I'm currently working on my next one. And I was thinking about buying dogs. The children are doing well too."

It gushed out of her mouth and she wondered even as she said it why she was telling her such trivial things. Things you would tell an old acquaintance. Yes, an album of her own. For anyone else, that would be one of the most important events in their life. Success. Children. What more could one ask for. She had it all. And yet now, at this moment, it seemed almost unimportant to her. Except for her children. They were her life. Her centre of attention. They and the other women had helped her so much over the last few years to distract herself and focus on other things. To forget about what happened. But she didn't need the success or the album. She could have done without the rest. But not without her ... She probably would have kept telling herself that she could. That she had everything she needed. And yet, right now, at 4:35 on a still-cool summer morning, she sat on her bare floor alone in her flat, mascara smudged all over her face, phone receiver in hand, just to hear her voice. And no matter what she told her, Frida listened. She hadn't hung up yet. She could have hung up long ago. A voice in Agnetha's head had told her Frida would surely hang up immediately after hearing and recognising her voice. She must have no reason or desire to get in touch with her again. After all, it had been so easy for her to just turn her back on the blonde woman and never come back. And yet she listened to her right now, even though she had nothing important to say to Frida. She listened at four in the morning. Agnetha stopped speaking and waited for a reaction, but before Frida could open her mouth, Agnetha quickly added with a whisper: