Even as I stare into the blackness of that blank canvas beyond the hide’s window, it seems I see other things. It is a narrow cot. Close pressed alongside him, his fingers woven through mine as— his breathing evens ....in the darkness of the space we share and the heat still between us
It seems I am split between two lives, overlaid as if I have been exactly here with him ....before
so many times ....
and it plays with my mind
It seems to even question it now is so long old and merely irrelevant. As too many times I have felt that sense confirmed
....too many times I have felt that chill with him—especially when we come together, I feel it in his body— and those things he never says, those things he never tells me. I feel it. And often it feels I feel him within me, feel his thoughts, and even know ....I feel him .... even from far away, I feel.... when he is thinking of me
And even after so much time of him away— it is instant as soon as he is near, even when I try to resist ....and even when my mind doesn’t want to trust him.... there is something inside me that just never doubts.
Even if I won’t say
But now I do say this instead in the dark, as I lay next to him, having already, to him —exposed all anyway, as I look out at that darkness outside the wall of window into the night,
“Jörn.... on your computer ....” but half lose my nerve and have to stop
A moment goes by where nothing is said. Does he know? ....what I’m about to ask him....?
I turn on my side to look at him, half his face in shadow, lit dimly by the candle.... yet I stare into his face.... as I know it by now so well, every line, every crease, the long bridge of his nose, the outline of his mouth, the slant of his haunting eyes....
I dig my fingers into the silk of his hair to pull it back where it has fallen long across his brow, moving over him slightly to look into his eyes,
“you know, when you told me....when you gave me your password to ....get into those files to —download for you?” I stop there afraid to say more as I stare into his eyes searching
He just stares back at me. Calm. But his eyes penetrate through me. And still.... gives nothing away
“Well, I saw some things....” I say now.
It is awhile before I realize I hold my breath. I keep staring into the icy steel, like double edged swords of heat and danger, warmth and ferocity
And still he doesn’t say anything. He just looks back at me, steady and calm.
“Jörn....!” I nearly gasp from holding my breath with fear, “....you know what I saw....”
After another long moment of just his silence ....with eyes ....that measure me, he makes the slightest move with his head, almost a shrug and says,
“I knew you would see things....” and now when I start by his flippancy he raises one pale brow ....and says more with just his eyes
“When you said they expected you to be ‘more east’ ....” and again I stop myself. And then feel his hand clamp around my wrist like a shackle and watch his eyes grow fierce as he moves to sit up slightly .... “Jörn.... now it seems I think I need to know— I mean— when I asked if it was Moscow— that isn’t what I saw.... but it was definitely ....more east, but slightly more ....adjacent—“ I hold my breath again when I feel his grip tighten but I say, anyway, “is that what you meant?” which comes out in a whisper
“Duva.... listen, there are some things you would have seen which I can see might give you certain cause for suspicion about what I do.... and maybe this is why you were so strange when you first saw me again.... but.... look— I will answer you honestly if you tell me exactly what you want to know because I don’t know what you saw that you are trying to ask me.”
“It was something I found.... something I accidentally clicked on—it was in one of your documents under your company —under JMSmeden.se, Stockholm, Sverige, only— it wasn’t for your platinum work, but it was ....sales of another kind.”
He lets go of my wrist and leans back against the wall and stares out into the night for a long moment. And after another thoughtful pause he looks at me,
“you saw I was selling arms to....” and only infers the rest with a slight imperceptible gesture
“So it’s true?!” I pull back and stare at him
“I told you I’d answer you honestly so.... look, duva....I told you I wasn’t in Sweden the whole time since I’ve been away—and, no—I wasn’t. I went first somewhere else.... “
“You’re crazy! With everything that is happening, with the virus rampant—you tell me you decide now is a good time to trade in illegal weapons too? Who even has the money for that right now with the recent death tolls !?—whose side are you on?”
“No, I’m not saying that I was just in Syria—Duva, that was an old file you were looking at, that was from —it was a past cover—now going four?—five? years back—at least!”
“A cover....” I say and stop to think.... now remembering all those passports ....
and so now take a few deep breaths....
well, seems too late —now anyway.... I think, as I take a second to reflect on this.... to decide to not be involved with a spy
A bit too late. Over two years too late. I should know better by now.... and again get that sense of having been in this moment before; déja vu ....and with a chill, see blood on those hides stacked on the floor—and such eyes staring back at me....
Yes, I’ve been here before ....I think; I’ve been in this moment with him before ....and yes, I know this feeling too; the danger
“Does Willem suspect the mole too?” I ask suddenly
“Yes. We know who it is,” Jörn says calmly
“Which is why you want me to stay up here,” I say
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t why I was strange with you,” I say now to him and now look at him. He looks back at me and waits. I say, “I wasn’t ready to trust you again. That’s why.”
After some thought he nods and then asks,
“and now?” but it is something in how he says this; something.... I can taste the spray of the water and feel the lurch of a ship under me just from that glimpse of kryptonite —and with it, that unreasonable sense of knowing ....beyond all doubt —and press my mouth to his, closing my eyes and feel his mouth answer me like a seal of fate; then climb across him to wrap around his hips with a strange fear and need for suddenly remembering what is to come tomorrow ....soon after the dawn
***
it is awhile after when he says, reaching for his phone,
“there’s something I wanted to show you—remember I told you I had another angle for getting the lock-letter code for the safe? I recently found something your sister auctioned off through Christie’s for four grand that once belonged to your mother....” he shows me a picture on his phone
“That’s my mother’s antique secretary! You found it?”
“I bought it,” he shows me more pictures as he says, “you said it had a secret hidden compartment. The people who bought it from your sister said she didn’t have the key— but you did.”
“What are you talking about? The key? I never had it....”
“You didn’t know you had it. It was in a box you tossed into some dumpster where you lived with your first husband in Cedarhurst New York; a box also filled with all your old diaries ....”
the shock of all he says does not fully register as I am somehow more distracted by the photos of the antique secretary as it brings back so many memories .... of my mother
Then I recognize where the photo was taken,
“This is the penthouse?”
“I had it shipped there —last month. Last week I had the key sent to Ilya and told her where I thought the hidden compartment was —and....she just sent me this before, guess what we found?” he shows me a photo, “....your award for your piano recital with ....the title of the Beethoven piece.”
“The code.”
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