Strangers: A Novel(77)

He remains silent for a few seconds. I prepare myself for a counterattack, but he surprises me.

“You really care about this Erik?”

“Yes.” I pay attention to my body’s gut reaction to my response, and realize I’ve told the truth. I close my eyes before I continue, without knowing whether what I’m about to say is really true. “We’re engaged.”

I hear Dad exhale sharply. There are a good ten thousand miles between us, but I can still picture his reaction as clear as day in front of me. His eyebrows suddenly furrowing, his lower lip tensing over his teeth.

“You make a decision like that without discussing it with me first?”

I can’t let myself be intimidated by his tone, now dangerously soft. “Yes. Because it’s a personal decision.”

“Personal. Well, well.”

“Very much so.” I’m fully aware of the fact that this conversation will be continued as soon as we’re in Australia, that it’s going to be unpleasant, and that Dad will use every weapon at his disposal to talk me out of my decision of marrying a nobody.

But by then it won’t matter; we’ll be safe, far away from Gabor and his henchmen.

“Fine.” I can tell how much Dad is struggling to stay in control of himself. “I’m very intrigued to meet this Erik. OK then, you’ll find out tomorrow at what time the plane will land, and Gavin will pick you up from the house in a limousine. Is that all clear?”

“Yes. Thank you, Daddy.”

I hang up and go back into the living room, where Erik is sitting on the couch and rotating his coffee cup between his hands. I don’t know how much of the telephone call he overheard.

I sit down next to him. I wait for him to look at me, but he doesn’t, and only turns his head toward me once I start to speak.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “My father is sending a plane, with a bit of luck it will be here within the next twenty-four hours. Then we’ll have made it. You’ll be able to safely make contact with the police once we’re in Australia; I’m sure Gabor’s arms don’t reach that far.” I smile at Erik, but his expression remains unchanged. “And even if they do,” I continue, “I’m quite sure that his contacts are nothing compared to my family’s.”

“Great.” He shakes his head. “I never wanted to go to Australia, you don’t remember that anymore now of course, but we had this conversation a few times. You agreed with me then; you said on more than one occasion that your family would destroy our relationship within a few weeks. And now we don’t even have a proper relationship anymore. What do you think our chances are of building it up again over there?”

I try to say something, but he stops me with another shake of his head. “I know that it’s for the best in our situation. I’m not stupid. But I’ll lose you there, once and for all.”

I want to respond, to say something, but I can’t find the right words. My feelings for him aren’t even half a week old yet; his for me, on the other hand, date back almost a year. If everything that he says is true. Some moments I still have my doubts, but this isn’t one of them.

As though my silence was proof of the fact that his fears are justified, Erik turns away again. “You mentioned Matthew earlier.”

“Yes. I told Dad that it’s over between us.”

“But you do remember him?”

So that’s it. Erik is upset by the fact that, for some incomprehensible reason, he’s the only person my memory has suppressed. The fact that everyone else got to keep their place in my head.

I would give so much to know the reason why. The trigger. A very stressful event, some trauma that is connected to the thing or person in question.

See, I can even remember Dr. Schattauer’s explanation word for word. Except that I can no longer imagine Erik being violent. On the other hand, unfortunately I now know that a violent Joanna does exist, one which was previously unknown to me.

“Yes, I remember Matthew,” I say softly. “But not fondly.”

* * *

The mood remains tense for the rest of the day. Erik is silently brooding, watching the terrorist video over and over on the laptop. Whenever I refer to the fact that this time tomorrow we’ll probably be sitting on the plane and have left all this madness behind us, he only responds with a tired smile.

Maybe it’s because my words sound halfhearted; most of my attention is focused on the noises coming from the street outside. Every time a car slows down near the house, my heartbeat quickens. At some point I hear male voices outside, and it’s only when I start to feel dizzy that I realize I’m holding my breath. By then the men are long gone and can no longer be heard.

The closer evening comes, the more Erik becomes withdrawn. I gradually realize why: his life is falling apart. Not only am I no longer an anchor in his world, but he’s also about to lose his job and his home, as well as be haunted by the scenes from yesterday.

It’s dark in the living room, and despite the approaching dusk I haven’t turned on any of the lights. I sit down on the couch and put my arm around Erik. I feel his muscles tense. He shakes his head, pushes me away from him. “Don’t.”

I try not to let show that his rejection, against all logic, hurts me. “It will be better in Melbourne than you think,” I whisper. “We don’t have to live on my family’s land, there are other possibilities. And besides—”