Jacob Sundberg - Well Call You

Well Call You

Published by Nordisk Books, 2020

www.nordiskbooks.com

Jacob Sundberg, 2018.

Copyright Bokfrlaget Atlas. All rights reserved.

This English translation copyright
Duncan J. Lewis, 2020.

Cover artwork Simon Ackeby

Cover design Nordisk Books

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd,
Elcograf S.p.A.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 9781838074203

eBook ISBN 9781838074227

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Alfred Hansson was waiting for the next candidate, hed step through the door and into his office any minute now. Hansson was trying different positions to look relaxed for when the door would open. It was important to look relaxed this time, very relaxed. He would not display a shred of astonishment, or scepticism, or fear. He tried to lean back with one arm hanging down his side, the other arm leisurely clicking the mouse. Rolled up the sleeves of his light-blue shirt. Then he tried a more formal posture, fixed his eyes on the screen as if focusing hard, doing a complex calculation or reading something enigmatic. When the man would enter, Hansson was going to slowly raise a friendly finger, still with his eyes on the screen, as if to communicate give me a second, Im just going to finish this first. Then hed look up and offer a smile, get up, perhaps look discreetly at his watch as well, as if silently saying is it already time? It was a matter of showing that time flies when youre having fun and you sure did have fun at Ice Consulting. But the main reason for Hansson wanting to look relaxed and utterly untroubled when the man walked in, was that he to all appearances was a foreigner. He had an exotic name: Said Ansari. If there was anything Hansson wished for, it was that these poor refugees would also feel welcome, treated the same way as everyone else. To be unruffled in this situation was, in other words, absolutely necessary.

Said could of course be a good kid in spite of his origins, thought Hansson. He was after all very careful to treat everyone equally, even foreigners, yes, especially foreigners, something he often pointed out. I barely see that theyre different from us, that theyre dark and swarthy, he used to say. He didnt think about such things, for he saw the person inside. He was a really good man, thats what everyone thought. Every month a hundred kronor were transferred from his account to a charity organisation. Thats the least I can do, he said if the topic came up, which it did now and then. And if it didnt come up, he himself could make sure it did, because shouldnt more people sacrifice their wealth for the survival of others? He felt so grateful for all he had, that now he wanted to give a little back. That was something that everyone should do, each according to their ability of course, not everyone could set the bar as high as he did. Who knows, maybe Said had benefited from a share of his money in a refugee camp somewhere? Hansson smiled compassionately when he thought about how it would now all come full circle, Said would get a chance to stand on his own two feet, to start working and make his own money. He wished that for everyone, also foreigners. But it wasnt self-evident that Said would get the job, since the competition was hard. Although an exotic touch wouldnt hurt.

But then there was the religion thing. Said Ansari, it did sound rather religious. Hansson had nothing against that, if people would treat it as a private matter. There wasnt much to do about the fact that Arabs and Africans were religious, you had to accept that, they hadnt had the same possibilities of education, and they were a bit more driven by emotion. But if there was anything that provoked him, it was when ordinary people, Swedes, were believers. That people, despite schooling, even university in some cases, in a modern society could practice such things, was baffling. History had progressed, taken us to the moon, given us insight into the reality in which we live. In the past, people thought that supernatural beings governed the weather, now we had science. It made sense thousands of years ago to believe that the dead were resurrected and that people walked on water, but scientists had now disproven all that. And still, still there were people blond, Swedish people who clung onto these fairy tales. They were reactionaries, they wanted to go back to the old days . What Hansson meant by the old days he wasnt sure of himself, but it was clear to him that it was a time of ignorance, intolerance, superstition and, yes, religion. But if Said brought his religion to Sweden, you sort of had to tolerate it to some degree, because down there they didnt know better. He would treat him exactly the same regardless. Also, a number of years in Sweden would scrape away most of the delusions. Patience, integration was all about patience, to give them a chance to be like us.

A young man walked through the door, they shook hands. He was handsome, Hansson could see that - not that he was gay, no, he really wasnt, absolutely not, but he could see that this Said definitely had not had to work hard to get attention from women. In his own circle that is, among his own people.

Welcome, Hansson said and pointed to the chair opposite his own.

Thanks.

Did you take the car here? Hansson said, gripping an imaginary steering wheel in the air.

No, I walked. I live just ten minutes from here, said Said.

Oh. Great that, not having to look for parking. And not getting stuck in rush hour. You know, rush hour . Hansson spoke clearly, slowly and rather loudly.

True. I have a driving license, but I havent bothered with a car, its mostly a liability here in Stockholm.

It can be, it can be, said Hansson pensively. We are rebuilding the place, hope it doesnt deter you. Its going to be great when its done.

Said nodded.

Lets see... Said was it, yes? said Hansson and looked down on his paper. And you are twenty-nine years old. What are you doing right now?

I have a communications position at Vrmd Municipality. A lot of internal communication, intranet, various types of brochures, all kinds of things. Some press queries come up too.

He spoke good Swedish, Hansson had to admit. A lot of people who come here are willing to make an effort after all, he thought.

Its a little different in a private company, Hansson said, but you have some valuable experience. As you saw in our advert, we want someone to develop our brand. To find out what it is that makes us unique.

The USP, said Said.

Pardon?

The USP. Finding the USP, so to speak.

Hansson smiled unconfidently. Yes, well. Definitely.

This was going to be a challenge, that much he realised. He wasnt averse to suburban slang, he would jokingly throw in the occasional habibi himself, but this was an employment interview and under such circumstances they should keep their mother tongue to themselves. USP, now that was a word with an unmistakable odour of Rinkeby. But he couldnt help feeling a slight empathy for the young man. Imagine the journey hed made, what hed gone through. Hansson himself knew what it was like to be new in a country, having to adjust to new customs and hobble along in a strange language. Three months as a language student at the Goethe-Institut in Munich as a twenty-year-old had made him humble. They werent that different after all, Said and he, both had their history of alienation and challenges. New culture, new food, new everything. He was hoping that Said had someone to share his life with, someone who could talk to him in his own language or, for that matter, someone who could be a gateway into society.