She gestured to the poster, where Bradley Cooper’s blue eyes were staring straight into the camera.

“I’d like to see that one,” he said.

“Why did you really want to meet?” she said. “What do you want with me?”

“I thought it would be nice to talk,” he said, getting to his feet. “You struck me as a real person in Riche. Unlike all the other . . .”

He left the sentence unfinished.

Faye took a deep breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound unfriendly. It’s been a rough day.”

“We all have those. Everyone has their secrets. And their own crap to deal with. The difference is that mine has been all over the tabloids.”

She frowned. What was he getting at? What did he know about her having secrets and her own crap to deal with?

“Like my song,” he said, registering her expression. “ ‘Secrets’. You know, ‘Everyone has their secrets, and their own crap to deal with.’ Those are the lyrics. But maybe you’ve never heard that one?”

The doors to the theater opened and John nodded toward it. Faye took several deep breaths, imagining Sebastian and her mom laughing at a romantic comedy as they ate popcorn from big paper cones. Free for a short while.

They bought tickets and Faye followed John into the empty auditorium. They sat in the back row and Faye took her mobile out again. Jack still hadn’t replied. She was feeling increasingly anxious. Didn’t he love her anymore? Did he no longer find her attractive?

During the first few minutes of the film Faye was intensely aware of John looking at her. She didn’t know why, but being so close to him was affecting her in a peculiar way. Without taking a conscious decision to do it, she put her hand on his trousers. With her eyes glued to the screen and Bradley Cooper’s chiseled features, she unbuttoned his fly and noted with surprise that he wasn’t wearing any underpants. Neither of them said anything, but she heard him breathing heavily, and it excited her. She bent over and took him in her mouth. She heard his breathing get heavier and heavier, and, absurdly, he carried on stuffing popcorn into his mouth as he groaned. Faye felt herself getting wet, forgot whose cock she was sucking; she was sucking Jack, sucking him so well that he would realize how lucky he was. She shut her eyes and stood up to pull her trousers and panties down. She sat astride his hard cock, John’s, Jack’s, and sank down. He filled her in ways she had been dreaming of, places she had forgotten, and she kept her eyes closed as she moved faster and faster, murmuring, “Fuck me, Jack, oh, fuck me.”

Just as she climaxed John filled her with his warm, sticky seed. He groaned as Bradley Cooper’s warm voice filled the cinema.

For a few moments Faye curled up numbly in John Descentis’s arms. Then she stood up. His semen seeped out of her, and what had felt so exciting only minutes before now felt nothing but sordid.

She picked up her bag and left the cinema without looking back.

STOCKHOLM, AUGUST 2001

“WHAT’S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THAT Jack Adel . . . what did you say his name was?” I wondered as Chris put another beer in front of me.

“Adelheim,” Chris said, sitting down. “Are you kidding, or what?”

“Okay, apart from the obvious, then. He’s handsome. In a fairly stereotypical way.”

“Handsome doesn’t begin to cover it. He’s aristocracy. From a family with a tarnished reputation. Everyone at college wants to be his friend, everything circulates around him. All the girls want him. Even I’d like to fuck him till he passed out,” Chris said dryly.

I’d just taken a large gulp of beer and had to clap my hand over my mouth to stop myself spraying it across the table. Chris’s remark probably wasn’t that funny, but the alcohol was making the room spin, and making everything Chris said extra funny.

At that moment Jack and his friend appeared. They seemed to be looking for somewhere to sit. We’d taken the last free table, but there were spare chairs.

“What’s happening?” Chris whispered. She had her back to them, but had spotted the curious look on my face.

“They’re looking for somewhere to sit . . . and . . .”

Chris’s eyes opened wide. She clamped her mouth shut.

“They’re on their way over,” I whispered.

“Fuck! Don’t look at them! Stop staring! Laugh instead. Laugh like I’ve just told you the best joke you’ve ever heard!”

I leaned back in my chair and pretended to laugh. I felt ridiculous. Chris was laughing as well. A loud, exaggerated laugh that sounded to me like she was on the brink of madness. Jack Adelheim and his friend waited until we finished laughing.

“Is it okay if we sit here?” Jack said. “We promise not to disturb you.”

Behind him his friend was holding his beer a little too tightly and was swaying gently as he looked groggily toward us.

“Sure,” Chris said flatly, looking up with feigned surprise.

Jack sat down next to me and his friend settled onto the bench opposite. He reached out his hand unsteadily across the table.

“Henrik.”

“Mat . . . Faye,” I said, not yet used to my new identity.

It was hard to shed my skin. Harder than I’d expected.

I twisted around and repeated the handshake with Jack. He smiled. A beautiful, open smile. His blue eyes looked straight into mine. He was handsome, I couldn’t deny that. But I had Viktor, and I wasn’t that sort of girl. Besides, Chris would probably smash me in the nose with her beer glass if I made a move on Jack.

“Nice to meet you.”

Once everyone had shaken hands Chris leaned forward and asked pointedly what I thought about the new U.S. president, George W. Bush. I rolled my eyes and launched into a short lecture that was basically a summary of the editorial in that morning’s Dagens Nyheter. Jack and Henrik waded into the debate at once, taking issue with my argument, Jack on my side, Henrik against. The noise-level—Bryan Adams singing “Summer of ’69”—meant that I only heard fragments of what they said.

After a while I had forgotten everything Chris had told me about Jack. He was just a nice guy who was easy to talk to. Henrik had bought another round of beers.

“As thanks for letting us sit here,” he said, pushing two glasses toward us.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Chris. In return, she didn’t deign to bestow so much as a single glance on him.

The bartender yelled that there was half an hour until they closed, and that it was last orders. Chris started to shuffle about in her seat.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said apologetically.

Henrik got up and stood to attention as she squeezed past him. Jack turned towards me.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

I hesitated. Glanced at my mobile, which still hadn’t shown any sign of life from Viktor.

“Oh, I don’t know. Chris wanted to go out somewhere, so I’ll probably tag along with her for a while. How about you two?”

Jack was so intensely present that it was making me feel slightly uncomfortable. He was having a definite effect on me, somehow managing to get under my skin. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that.

Henrik remained standing, looking around the bar.

“We’ll probably carry on the party back at Henrik’s. You’re both welcome to join us if you like.”

“Maybe. I’ll have to check with Chris first.”

“Sure,” Jack said, his blue eyes never leaving mine. “What line of work do you do? Or are you a student?”

His dark, thick eyelashes framed his eyes, making their blue color seem even more intense. Beneath the table our thighs bumped against each other’s.

“I’m studying at the School of Economics,” I said nonchalantly, and took a sip of beer.

I always had trouble hiding my pride at my own achievements. The fact that I had risen above everything that had happened, getting the necessary grades, doing what plenty of people dreamed about without the advantages of many of the other students at the Stockholm School of Economics.

“Really? Me too. First year?”

“Yes.”

I slowly turned my beer glass. Wondered where Chris had gone.

“What do you think of it? Are you enjoying it?”

He was giving me his full attention, and that made me squirm. I preferred to hide in the shadows. Viktor never looked at me like that. That was one of the reasons I felt so comfortable being with him. He was happy to let my secrets stay secret. But Jack appeared to see straight through me.

“I like it,” I said slowly. “Though I’ve only been there a week. So it’s hard to say, really.”

Chris came back to the table and sat back down with an air of confidence. She looked at us inquisitively.

“He . . . erm, it’s Jack, isn’t it?” I said uncertainly and he nodded. “Jack was wondering if we wanted to go back to . . . Henrik’s? But we were going out, weren’t we?”

I was having trouble concealing what I wanted to do.

Chris’s eyes revealed how impressed she was by my industry. But to my surprise she just shrugged.

“Maybe. We’ll have to see,” she said. “I want to go dancing first.”

“We could go to Sturecompagniet,” Henrik suggested.