Free Silenced by Kristina Ohlsson

with relief. If this was about nothing worse than that stupid remark, the meeting would soon be behind him. But he still had no idea who Anna-Karin Larsson was.
    ‘So,’ said Peder, with the lopsided smile he used for disarming women of all ages. ‘If it’s yesterday’s croissant incident you want to talk about, let me start by saying I meant no harm.’
    ‘Well that’s reassuring, at any rate,’ Margareta said drily.
    ‘No, I really didn’t,’ he said magnanimously, holding up his hands. ‘If anybody in the staff room took offence at my, er . . . how shall I put it, slightly crude way of expressing myself, I apologise. Of course.’
    Margareta observed him across the desk. He stared back stubbornly.
    ‘Slightly crude?’ she said.
    Peder hesitated.
    ‘Very crude, maybe?’
    ‘Yes, actually,’ she said, ‘extremely crude, even. And it’s a matter of deep regret that Anna-Karin was confronted with that sort of behaviour in only her third week with us.’
    Peder gave a start. Anna-Karin Larsson. Was that her name, the luscious new trainee he’d made such a fool of himself with?
    ‘I shall go and see her and apologise in person, naturally,’ he said, talking so fast he almost started stuttering. ‘I . . .’
    Margareta held up one hand to stop him.
    ‘Naturally you’ll apologise to her,’ she said forcefully. ‘That’s so self-evident as not to count as any kind of redress here.’
    Bollocks. Some third-rate bit of skirt who couldn’t cope with the pressure except by running off to HR at the first opportunity. As if she could read his thoughts, Margareta said: ‘It wasn’t Anna-Karin who told us about this.’
    ‘Wasn’t it?’ Peder said mistrustfully.
    ‘No, it was someone else who found your behaviour offensive,’ said Margareta, who was now leaning across the table with a concerned look. ‘How are you, Peder, really?’
    The question nonplussed him so much that he could not summon a reply. Margareta shook her head.
    ‘This has got to stop, Peder,’ she said loud and clear, in the sort of voice normally only used for addressing children. ‘Alex and I have been aware of what you’ve been going through these past eighteen months, and how it’s affected you. But that’s not enough, I’m afraid. To be blunt, you’ve put your foot in it once too often now, and this morning’s croissant episode was the final straw.’
    Peder almost started to laugh, and raised his arms in a gesture of appeal.
    ‘Now hang on . . .’
    ‘No,’ roared Margareta, bringing the palm of her hand down on the desk with such force that Peder thought he could feel the floor shake. ‘No, I’ve hung on long enough. I wondered whether to intervene when you got drunk at the Christmas party and pinched Elin’s bottom, but I heard the two of you had worked it out between you and assumed you realised you’d gone too far. But clearly you hadn’t.’
    You could have heard a pin drop, and Peder felt his objections to her verdict piling up and turning into a shout, which he only kept inside him with a huge effort. This wasn’t fair in any way and Peder was going to bloody well throttle the bastard who’d squealed about the croissants.
    ‘I’ve booked you a place on a workplace equality course which I think might be an eye-opener for you, Peder,’ she said frankly.
    Seeing his reaction, she went on quickly:
    ‘My decision isn’t negotiable. You attend the course, or I take this problem to a higher level. I also want you to agree to an appointment with a psychologist through the healthcare provider we have a contract with.’
    Peder opened his mouth and then closed it again, his face flaming.
    ‘We as employers cannot accept this sort of conduct, it simply won’t do,’ she said in the same firm tone, pushing a sheet of paper over the desk towards him. ‘The police force is no place for office fornication. Here, these are the dates and times of your appointments.’
    For a moment he contemplated refusing to take