that it was my duty, seeing as the files were on my desk.”
“The files were on your desk?”
“Yes.”
“Who put them there?” Karl said, glancing at Håkan, who quickly looked down and pretended to be reading his papers.
“I’ve no idea,” I said. “I assumed—”
“Please, come with me.”
He led the way toward the little glass box without waiting for me. I looked at Håkan, who was still pretending not to have noticed anything, but his neck was bright red. I got up and walked very slowly after Karl into his office. Karl sat down behind his desk.
“Close the door,” he said.
I did as he said and tried to adopt a concerned expression, as if I were expecting another reprimand for something. There was a certain pleasure in playing the innocent schoolboy, seeing as I knew what was coming. Karl fixed his eyes on me.
“Björn, what’s going on here?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused any trouble. I didn’t mean to take someone else’s work. I was just convinced I was meant to do it because the case notes were on my desk and…”
“Can you tell me who wrote 1,842 and…let’s see, 1,636?”
“I did.”
“Björn, I hope you are aware that all of us in this department…we always stick to the truth.”
“That is the truth.”
Karl spun his chair slightly and stroked his chin with his fingers. He picked up the documents and seemed almost to be weighing them in his hand.
“The DG is very pleased,” he said out of nowhere.
“Oh?” I said, trying to look surprised.
“He says we’ve finally got the right tone. That these texts you’ve written ought to be the template for all future framework decisions in the communal sector.”
51.
I looked at the picture Jörgen usually leaned against when we had meetings here in Karl’s office and tried to enjoy the moment when the new order here at the Authority slowly began to take shape. The picture was of some appetizing-looking fruit. You could almost have believed it was real. I came to think of an artist who could draw an empty sheet of paper and make you think it was a real piece of paper, so you’d go up to it wondering why someone had put an empty sheet of paper in a glass frame, but then you’d discover that it was a drawing, like an optical illusion. Quite funny, actually.
The thought made me smile.
“I didn’t know…” Karl said, and I could see he was having severe difficulty coming to terms with the idea of me as a leading light in this field. He had regarded me as a nothing, an encumbrance, someone who needed to be watched and looked after. Now that he’d made his bed he was having to lie in it.
He looked up at me and smiled, clearly uncertain about how to treat me. It was like there was something inside him that was still fighting against the idea. I could easily draw this out a bit longer, I thought. Let him squash me even further down. I could exploit my lowly status and make the turnaround even greater, even more of a shock.
But this was where we were. At last he had realized, and maybe I ought to have been pleased that he was at least intelligent enough to recognize talent when he saw it. That isn’t always the case.
“You surprise…” he went on, waving my texts.
I stayed quiet. And smiled. Knowing when to keep your mouth shut is an art.
“If you could imagine carrying on…that you might be able to take on some more…”
I cleared my throat and frowned gently. Taking my time.
“I’d be happy to help in any way I can,” I said, “but bearing in mind my other duties…”
I glanced toward the photocopier and Karl took the hint.
“We can sort that out, Björn.”
“I just mean that it might be difficult finding the time to look after the printers and…”
“Obviously, you wouldn’t have to do anything of that sort…”
“And the quality assurances…”
Karl raised his voice slightly to indicate that he was serious. That all that sort of nonsense was at an end now.
“I’m sorry, Björn, if
“The files were on your desk?”
“Yes.”
“Who put them there?” Karl said, glancing at Håkan, who quickly looked down and pretended to be reading his papers.
“I’ve no idea,” I said. “I assumed—”
“Please, come with me.”
He led the way toward the little glass box without waiting for me. I looked at Håkan, who was still pretending not to have noticed anything, but his neck was bright red. I got up and walked very slowly after Karl into his office. Karl sat down behind his desk.
“Close the door,” he said.
I did as he said and tried to adopt a concerned expression, as if I were expecting another reprimand for something. There was a certain pleasure in playing the innocent schoolboy, seeing as I knew what was coming. Karl fixed his eyes on me.
“Björn, what’s going on here?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused any trouble. I didn’t mean to take someone else’s work. I was just convinced I was meant to do it because the case notes were on my desk and…”
“Can you tell me who wrote 1,842 and…let’s see, 1,636?”
“I did.”
“Björn, I hope you are aware that all of us in this department…we always stick to the truth.”
“That is the truth.”
Karl spun his chair slightly and stroked his chin with his fingers. He picked up the documents and seemed almost to be weighing them in his hand.
“The DG is very pleased,” he said out of nowhere.
“Oh?” I said, trying to look surprised.
“He says we’ve finally got the right tone. That these texts you’ve written ought to be the template for all future framework decisions in the communal sector.”
51.
I looked at the picture Jörgen usually leaned against when we had meetings here in Karl’s office and tried to enjoy the moment when the new order here at the Authority slowly began to take shape. The picture was of some appetizing-looking fruit. You could almost have believed it was real. I came to think of an artist who could draw an empty sheet of paper and make you think it was a real piece of paper, so you’d go up to it wondering why someone had put an empty sheet of paper in a glass frame, but then you’d discover that it was a drawing, like an optical illusion. Quite funny, actually.
The thought made me smile.
“I didn’t know…” Karl said, and I could see he was having severe difficulty coming to terms with the idea of me as a leading light in this field. He had regarded me as a nothing, an encumbrance, someone who needed to be watched and looked after. Now that he’d made his bed he was having to lie in it.
He looked up at me and smiled, clearly uncertain about how to treat me. It was like there was something inside him that was still fighting against the idea. I could easily draw this out a bit longer, I thought. Let him squash me even further down. I could exploit my lowly status and make the turnaround even greater, even more of a shock.
But this was where we were. At last he had realized, and maybe I ought to have been pleased that he was at least intelligent enough to recognize talent when he saw it. That isn’t always the case.
“You surprise…” he went on, waving my texts.
I stayed quiet. And smiled. Knowing when to keep your mouth shut is an art.
“If you could imagine carrying on…that you might be able to take on some more…”
I cleared my throat and frowned gently. Taking my time.
“I’d be happy to help in any way I can,” I said, “but bearing in mind my other duties…”
I glanced toward the photocopier and Karl took the hint.
“We can sort that out, Björn.”
“I just mean that it might be difficult finding the time to look after the printers and…”
“Obviously, you wouldn’t have to do anything of that sort…”
“And the quality assurances…”
Karl raised his voice slightly to indicate that he was serious. That all that sort of nonsense was at an end now.
“I’m sorry, Björn, if
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