“Please, Jo.” Ela’s voice sounds gentle yet insistent. “Go get yourself checked out. After that you can do as you please, I won’t interfere anymore, I promise. But please, go see a doctor.”
The two of them look at each other for the duration of a few seconds, then Joanna turns to face me and looks into my eyes. Her expression pains me. It’s how you look at a stranger who’s asking you to do something you don’t want to do.
“And what about you? Will you leave me alone as well if it turns out there’s nothing wrong inside my head? That in itself would make it worth my while.”
I hesitate, just for a second, then nod. “Yes. I will.”
I hope she can’t tell I’m lying.
9
I had never realized there could be so many different nuances of fear. Frantic, acute mortal fear like I’d felt last night, when I thought the stranger was going to rape or kill me. That was bad enough, but somehow more bearable than what I’m experiencing right now—a creeping, all-consuming fear seeping into every inch of my body.
Because regardless of what lies behind the inconceivable situation that I’ve found myself in—there’s no longer any possibility that it’s something harmless. Something that could be quickly resolved with the disappearance of this man. Not anymore.
Ela’s reaction has changed everything. She’s reduced the number of possible explanations to two, and both seem awful to me. Either I can no longer trust my own mind, or my best friend is lying to me. Her laptop is still open in front of us, the photo filling the screen. Ela chose cleverly. In the picture, the stranger has his arm around a woman who looks like me and who, without a doubt, is sitting next to him on the sofa—but the image of my head could have been skillfully inserted. The woman’s bodily dimensions look about right, but she’s sitting down, so the specifics are harder to make out. Almost every woman has a little black dress, just like the one she’s wearing, hanging in her closet. I have two, and they’re almost identical.
Yes. A very clever choice indeed.
“So?” Ela’s voice is unusually soft. As if she’s taking great pains not to scare me. “Shall we go?”
I turn around to face her. No, them. Ela and Erik are standing next to each other, so close that their shoulders are almost touching. United. A team.
“To Dr. Dussmann, right?” My question is directed at Erik, who nods and opens his mouth to respond, but I don’t give him the chance.
“No way. And we’re not going to see your nice neurologist either, Ela. I’ll go to see a doctor with you both, but I pick who it is.”
They exchange a glance, something between confusion and surprise. So all that preparation was in vain. Well, tough luck!
“Do you know someone you trust?” Ela asks hesitantly.
I grab the laptop and sit down with it on the couch. It’s connected to the Internet; the browser page is already open. Perfect.
My search for the combination psychiatrist/neurologist brings back six results for the local area. I settle on a Dr. Verena Schattauer, not just because the photo on her home page looks nice and her practice is open this morning, but above all because, according to her background information, she doesn’t work in the same hospital as Ela.
“Which of you is going to lend me their phone?”
Erik, who hasn’t said a word for the past few minutes, holds Ela’s arm back as she is about to hand her cell phone to me. “I’d prefer it if I could call,” he says.
Surprise, surprise. “Are you worried I could call the police?” I ask with a smile.
“No, Jo. I’m afraid you might do something stupid.” He sits down next to me, too close for my taste, but I’m tired of constantly backing away. Which turns out to be a mistake, because clearly he takes it as being encouragement. He reaches for my hand, but I pull it back with a jolt. The hurt look comes back into his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers, before finally taking his phone out of his jacket pocket. He dials the number on the doctor’s home page and only passes me the phone once the call has been picked up.
“Dr. Schattauer’s practice, good morning.”
“Hello.” My voice is hoarse with nerves. “My name is Joanna Berrigan. I’ve never been to your practice before, but I need an appointment. As soon as possible. Please.” I don’t understand why the tears rush into my eyes now of all moments, but there’s nothing I can do to stop them.
“We’re actually…” the receptionist says, but then stops midsentence. “Could you be here in an hour? Then I could fit you in our emergency slot.”
My breathing is frantic and uneven. “Yes. In … an hour. OK.”
“Could you describe your symptoms to me?” The woman’s voice is more pragmatic than concerned. She waits patiently as I try to get my sobbing under control. This goes on for about half a minute. “Is anyone with you?” She asks then. “Could you give the telephone to him or her?”
Him or her. The decision is an easy one; I give it to Ela. Not that I still trust her, but at least I know her.
“Yes,” I hear her say. “Hmm. My impression? Joanna is very upset, she’s suddenly having … gaps in her memory. Disoriented? No, not really. What? Yes. OK. Of course I’ll go with her.”
Ela ends the call and hands Erik back his phone. “We’ll take both cars,” she says, “and Joanna can choose who she wants to go with. In case it … takes a while. I’ll need to get some sleep at some point, as much as I hate to say it.” She yawns, as if wanting to emphasize her words.
She’s planning to leave me alone with him. Just because she’s tired!
On the way downstairs, there’s not one single opportunity to flee. Not as we leave the elevator, not on the street. They flank me, always close enough to be able to quickly grab me in case I try to run away.
“I’ll go in Ela’s car.”
Her small blue Honda is parked around the corner. I notice that she still hadn’t fixed the dent on the right-hand fender. I remember the dent, just as I remember the story of how it happened. I remember everything, for God’s sake. I’m fine.
The sentence makes me feel good. I repeat it silently to myself, again and again. I’m fine.
As I get into the car, I see Erik gesture in Ela’s direction. A twisting motion with his wrist. A signal to lock the car door.
Of course. He doesn’t trust me as far as he can throw me. Ela tries to press the button for the central locking as casually as possible, but of course she notices that I notice.
We stay silent during the journey. The Audi is always in sight, either alongside us or in front, a glimmering silver shadow.
Then, shortly before we reach our destination, a new thought shoots into my mind, even worse than its predecessor.
What if this Erik guy isn’t the driving force between the events of the last day? What if it’s Ela instead? She’s known me for over six months; she knows about my family’s fortune. We’ve spoken about money from time to time. I know that she doesn’t have much of it, and I also know that Richard has desperately been trying to find start-up capital for his freelance venture for a while now, but without success.