It’s unfathomable to me, the fact that she’s dead. I’m still finding it hard to believe. It reminds me once again that this isn’t some Hollywood movie, but real life.
“Are you feeling as good as I am?” Joanna asks softly, and starts to stroke my chest again.
“Yes, I…” I start to say. “I’m really happy you remember me at least a tiny bit. And I’m really enjoying this moment.”
Our eyes meet. The love I feel for this woman is like a warm current flowing through my body. I can’t help but pull her closer. And closer. She’s on top of me now, her hair brushing over my face, her mouth so close to mine I only have to shift upward a little for our slightly parted lips to meet. When they do, it’s so tender, so soft, that it barely feels like we’re touching. I drink in her breath, move closer to her; we seem to melt into each other. My hands wander down her spine, grab hold of her buttocks, gently press her hips against my own. Joanna reacts, matching the thrust of my abdomen. The arousal I feel is nearly making me lose my mind. I start moving to a slow, steady rhythm, enter her almost instinctively, hold her as she arches her back, moaning. Then, there is only feeling and movement, losing ourselves in each other.
* * *
Joanna eventually falls onto her back next to me, spent. We’re both breathing in quick bursts, our bodies gleaming, dripping with sweat.
I want to do nothing, to not have to brood over anything, to just lie there in the certainty that she’s with me again. Finally.
After we’ve been lying there for a while, I have no idea for how long exactly, she asks me, “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m trying to put the feelings I have for you into words,” I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the stucco rosette above me.
“And?”
“I can’t do it. Everything I can think of is either trite or too tame.” Now I turn to face her. She does the same.
“I love you, Jo. But it’s more than that. People use these words so carelessly for every little surge of emotion they might feel.”
“I know what you mean.” She raises her hand, strokes my forehead with the tips of her fingers. “And it’s such a wonderful feeling. I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” I ask, both surprised and confused at once.
“That I can’t make you feel loved. But you have to believe me, there’s more than…” She breaks off as I put my finger to her lips.
“What are you talking about? You can’t make me feel loved? Jo, you just ran away from your own people with me, to stay here with me, in a place where you’re risking your life. You think that doesn’t make me feel anything?”
“They’re not my people, they’re my father’s people. And yes, I couldn’t just leave you here. But—”
“It’s all right,” I interrupt her gently. “You’re here, in spite of everything. Because of me.”
As I say the words, I realize, maybe for the first time since we fled from the terminal, what it would do to me if something happened to Joanna all because she stayed with me. The realization both terrifies and shames me in equal measure. I just accepted the fact that she’s putting herself in mortal danger. For my sake.
I sit up and lean against the padded headboard.
“Jo, I really think what you did is amazing, but…”
“But?”
“But I’d feel better if you were safe.”
“You want me to fly to Australia with Gavin? Without you?”
“No, I want the two of us to fly to Australia together, but it seems that’s not going to work. So at the very least I want you to be safe.”
I lean forward slightly, stroke her cheek. “I can’t bear the thought that something might happen to you.”
Joanna takes my hand, pulls it away from her face, and sits up. All trace of softness has disappeared from her eyes. “If I go back now, we’ll never see each other again. You understand that, don’t you? Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not. I’d be coming after you. On a normal flight. Tomorrow even.” I hope my words sound more convincing than they feel to me. Joanna shakes her head, giving a bitter laugh.
“You don’t know my dad. Once I’m back in Australia, he’s going to move heaven and earth to make me marry Matthew. Just like he planned. Everything either happens the way Dad planned it or not at all.”
“But you’re a grown woman, surely he can’t just—”
“I’ll say it again—you don’t know him. My father can do everything he wants to do. And he gets his way just about every time.”
Joanna’s words rouse a kind of defiance within me. I refuse to accept that this man on the other side of the world could determine our fate, determine our lives so easily.
“We’ll find a way, Joanna. If he disowns you, let him, we can take care of ourselves. I’ll find work in Australia, somewhere far, far away from your father. It’s a huge country, after all. We’ll look for a small house somewhere and—”
She interrupts, shaking her head. “No, Erik, there’s no way. I’m staying here.”
43
We sleep very little that night. Erik tries another three or four times to convince me to go back to Australia, but eventually gives up when I threaten to get my own hotel room if he doesn’t let it go.
I realize, of course, that my decision isn’t a very clever one. But I found it hard to ask Dad for help even when I still thought I’d be able to rescue Erik in the process. And now that the battle lines are clearly drawn, I wouldn’t want to take even a crumb of bread from my father from now on.
The chances that we would be able to make it alone aren’t that bad. Of course we have to get out of the city, if not the country too, and then … Maybe contact Bernhard. All the information you want is available, and if you stay alive long enough you’ll get it too, but for now you just have to believe me. Get yourself to safety, otherwise you’ll soon be dead, just like Erik.
We were still alive. How long is long enough?
I’ll call him first thing tomorrow, I resolve at around four in the morning, as tiredness begins to catch up with me after all. And after that we’ll get out of here.
When I open my eyes again, it’s light outside and Erik is already awake. He is lying next me, watching me, stroking my arm softly. Smiling. I snuggle up close to him. “What time is it?”
“Half past eight, almost.” His hand wanders down over my shoulders to my waist, and then down to my hips.
“No,” I say, in as firm a voice as I can manage in my drowsy state. “Not now. There’s so much we have to take care of.”
“Yeah.” Erik closes his eyes. “But who knows when we’ll next be able to be together like this. I don’t want to let you go, Jo.”
We give ourselves another ten minutes. Ten minutes in which I feel the fear and anxiety slowly growing stronger inside me again, despite Erik’s proximity. The fact is, we have no time to lose.
I have to really push myself to go down to the breakfast room and leave our room, where we were invisible to the world.
“There’s a computer with an Internet connection in the lobby,” Erik says as he stirs his coffee. “We can book flights from there. Maybe to Italy or Spain, to begin with.”
“Do you still have your passport?”