Strangers: A Novel(15)



It’s a twenty-five-minute journey. I lean my forehead against the window of the bus and gaze out. What if Ela didn’t go back to her place after work? What if she decided to stay over at Richard’s, despite their constant fights?

That’s unlikely. He has to be at the office, so they wouldn’t have been able to grab any time together.

Nonetheless, I’m incredibly nervous by the time I get off the bus, and even more so once I’m standing in front of Ela’s front door.

What will I do if she doesn’t answer? What other options do I have? The police, OK. That’s my last trump card. But it’s one I don’t feel ready to play, not without support.

Hesitating here won’t help anything. I ring Ela’s doorbell for ten, fifteen seconds.

When she answers the intercom, she sounds wide awake. Luckily.

“Yes? Who’s there?”

“It’s me. Joanna.” My voice trembles with relief. “Can I come in, please?”

The door release buzzes; I push the door open, step inside, and close it behind me again. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I run up the three floors to Ela’s apartment.

She’s standing in the doorway wearing jogging pants and a sweatshirt. Her dark locks are tied up into a ponytail, and her expression is confused and questioning.

“I’m sorry to burst in on you like this.” I give her a quick hug and can smell soap. She must have just showered. “I would have called you, but … I couldn’t.”

“Come in.” She pulls me into the apartment. “How about a coffee? You look like you need one.”

“No. Thank you.” I’m so happy to see her. Her level-headed manner alone is already calming me down.

In the living room, she gently presses me down onto the couch, sits next to me, and takes my hand. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

I begin, hesitantly at first, but soon the words are just flowing. The strange man in my house who claims his name is Erik and that he’s engaged to me; the night I spent imprisoned within my own four walls; my escape.

Ela doesn’t interrupt me a single time, but here and there she widens her eyes with disbelief; a deep wrinkle has appeared above her nose.

“That’s … unbelievable,” she murmurs once I’ve finished. “Give me a couple of minutes to digest it, OK?” She shakes her head, then suddenly pauses. “Oh damn it, I almost forgot.” She reaches for her phone and dials a number.

“A colleague,” she murmurs apologetically. “I was a bit scatterbrained with the … Hello, Sandra?”

I already know that Ela is very laid-back, at least when it’s not about Richard, but the way she’s responding to my story astonishes me nonetheless. As does the fact that right now, of all moments, something to do with her colleague should pop into her mind.

“Sandra, sorry, I completely forgot to tell you on the handover that the technician is coming to see to the centrifuge this morning. What? Yes, that would be good. OK. Yes. I’ll do that. See you then.” Ella puts her phone away. “Done.” She rubs both hands over her face. “Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?”

It’s starting to become difficult to hide my impatience. “No, I want to go to the police, and I was hoping you’d come with me.”

Ela stares fixedly at the carpet beneath her feet. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jo.”

I feel a cold tingling at the back of my neck. “Why not?”

She looks up and makes eye contact again. “Because what you’ve just told me doesn’t make any sense. You and Erik, you are a couple. And a damn good one too.”

The cold feeling has suddenly spread through my entire body. Please don’t, I want to say, please don’t do this to me.

“I swear to you, last night was the first time I ever saw that man in my whole life,” I whisper, seeing in Ela’s eyes how uncomfortable this situation is for her. “I live alone, you of all people would know that—you’ve been over to my place so often! There’s no one in my life apart from Matthew, and even he’s ancient history now, really.”

Ela straightens her ponytail. A gesture of self-consciousness. “You haven’t mentioned Matthew for months.”

“I know, why would I? I’m content by myself. I love the fact that I’m standing on my own two feet; my job is wonderful; everything is great. Or at least it was until yesterday.”

Something twitches in Ela’s face. She takes my hand, which feels icy cold against hers. “Listen. I have a suggestion. Instead of going to the police, we’ll go to a doctor. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I know a really nice neurologist at the clinic.…”

My eyes burn. I pull my hand away so I can wipe the tears before they run down my face. “You think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” Even just saying the word was hard. Because that’s turned it into a real possibility. Crazy. Or perhaps seriously ill; who knows what kind of damage brain tumors could unleash—

I instinctively reach up to touch my head. Please no, don’t let it be that.

No. Of course not, it’s nonsense. I’m fine, I don’t have any problems with my vision, no headaches, no dizziness. Just one person too many in my life.

Ela gently strokes my arm. “Try to remember. Do you still know when and where the two of us met?”

Ursula Archer & Arno's Books