Shame. Part 2

'I mean, tell you what it's called in Latin.'

She could feel herself blus.h.i.+ng, and that was certainly something out of the ordinary for her. She could see that he noticed it too and that it put him at ease.

'My grandfather had a pigeon roost when I was little; he kept carrier pigeons. I used to stay with him and Grandma in the summertime, and I was always allowed to help out in the pigeon roost. Feed them, let them out when they had flight training, band them, everything really. It was a whole little science in itself.'

He seemed to sink into pleasant memories, and she took a moment to study him. He really was a beautiful person.

'When I say that Grandpa had a pigeon roost, I mean that he really lived for those birds. Grandma may not always have thought it was so great, but she let him keep them. You know how a carrier pigeon finds its way home?'

She shook her head.

'They follow the magnetic fields.'

'Oh really? I thought they navigated by the stars, I read that somewhere.'

'Then how do they find their way in the daytime?'

'Well ... I haven't stayed up nights thinking about it.'

The waiter cleared the table, and they a.s.sured him that the food had been delicious and that they didn't want dessert but would like a cup of coffee. Monika had almost forgotten the pigeon lesson when he suddenly brought it up again.

'Do you know why they always fly home and don't fly off somewhere else?'

She shook her head.

'Homesickness.'

He leaned forward.

'They stay together for life, a pair of pigeons. They're faithful to each other the whole time, so no matter where you let one of them loose, it will always fly back home. One of Grandpa's pigeons had apparently flown into a high-tension wire, because its legs were gone when it returned, but it still came home, by G.o.d, home to its life partner.'

She pondered his story. 'I almost wish I were a pigeon instead, at least if you ignore the part about the legs.'

He smiled.

'I know. When I was little I used to think that when I grew up one day in some terribly distant future and met my wife, it would feel just like that, like a sort of magnetic field. That was how I would know I had chosen the right one.'

She brushed away some invisible crumbs from the tablecloth, because she felt like she wanted to ask but at the same time she didn't for the life of her want to seem too pushy.

'So was that how it was?'

'What?'

She hesitated a bit, because she realised that she didn't really want an answer. Then she fidgeted with her napkin a bit.

'When you met your wife.'

He took a gulp of wine.

'I don't know.'

She could feel the disappointment in her stomach. The way it contracted when she realised that he was married. One of those cowards without a wedding ring. She never got involved with married men.

'I felt the magnetic field, I really did. But the part about the wife is too soon to say.'

Another waiter interrupted the moment and asked if everything was all right. They both nodded without taking their eyes off each other, and he quickly withdrew.

'So now you probably have a better understanding of my behaviour there on the platform. Since it was the first time I ever felt that magnetic field, I just had to do something about it.'

What a strange man she had met. On the way here she had been open to the possibility that they might spend the night together. As the evening went on she grew more and more doubtful. Not because she didn't want to anymore, but because she felt that she wanted it too much. But when the matter was finally mentioned, it was his decision.

'I don't think I'll ask you to come home with me tonight.'

She stood quite silent. They had stopped under the awning outside the restaurant to keep out of the rain.

'This isn't something I want to fritter away. It feels much too good for that.'

She had never met anyone like Thomas. They said good night and he promised to call her the next day, but his first message appeared on her phone after only eight minutes. That night the keypads on their mobiles grew hot with use, the art of communication reached unimaginable heights, and she found herself lying there smiling to herself in the dark when she read his ingenious messages. Inspired by the challenge, she did her best to come up with equally witty replies. By five a.m. she was forced to concede defeat.

'Life and the night are approaching each other with haste. Never are dreams so close as now.'

She was finally speechless.

And he had gone up a notch or two.

And wait they did. In the time that followed they explored each other. Slowly but surely, inside and out. Two lonely people who were cautiously approaching their innermost hopes about everything they had always lacked, what they had always dreamed they would find someday in their lives. Each conversation was an adventure, each discovery a new opportunity to plumb the depths. She knew that she had never before entered that place where her feelings had now led her. Everything was enveloped in benevolence. Bit by bit she got to know him, and none of what he told her or confessed dampened her interest. On the contrary.

Step by step they came closer to the moment, and both of them were brave enough to admit that they were as nervous as teenagers, middle-aged though they were.

But, as usual with Thomas, everything fell into place quite naturally. One Sunday afternoon they just couldn't hold out any longer.

And she realised that she was actually a virgin.

She had had s.e.x many times. But she had never made love before.

The experience was revolutionary, overpowering, so far from her normal intellectual domain. To be completely and utterly dissolved and merge, not only with another body but in an absolute presence. For a brief time to be blessed with clear vision, to discern the simplicity in the immense mystery of the meaning of life. Overwhelmed by the desire to let down all defences, reveal her vulnerability, and in complete confidence put herself at his disposal, let happen whatever was going to happen. She had never been so close to her innermost core. Where there was no turmoil and no loneliness.

But when Monday came, fear had taken her over once more.

She didn't communicate the whole day. When she listened to her voicemail after the last patient had gone, he had left three messages and sent four text messages. She should have been annoyed. If everything had been as usual, his interest would have been the death knell for their relations.h.i.+p. Instead she only grew more afraid. 'You're just being a coward' didn't help. Not even 'Look at it as a challenge'. Her normal ways of tricking herself weren't working, not this time; the challenge involved risks that were much too great. She was still scared out of her mind. If he dumped her she'd never survive, to have let him in so close and then end up abandoned. It was dangerous to make herself dependent on something that couldn't be controlled. To reveal herself as profoundly as his intimacy demanded made her more vulnerable than she could bear.

At twelve thirty that night, when she had still not replied, he was standing outside her door.

'If you don't want to see me anymore you can tell me to my face, you know, rather than hide behind a mobile that you've switched off.'

For the first time she saw him angry. And she could see how worried he was, how he fought against his own fear.

She didn't say a word, just moved into his embrace and began to cry.

She was lying on his arm. Outside the bedroom window it was starting to become light. She lay as close as she could but it still didn't seem close enough.

'Do you know what Monika means?'

She nodded.

'The one who warns.'

'Yes, in Latin. But in Greek it means the lonely one.'

He turned his head and stroked her forehead with his index finger.

'I don't think I've ever met anyone who tries at all costs to live up to her name.'

She closed her eyes. The lonely one. That's how it had always been. Until now. And now she wasn't brave enough to let herself be rescued.

He sat up and turned his back.

'I'm scared too, don't you realise that?'

He had read her thoughts. He had the ability to see straight through her. It was one of his many qualities that she appreciated, but also feared in equal measure. He got up and went over to her bedroom window. Her eyes wandered over his naked skin. How beautiful he was.

'I've always been able to weigh the pros and cons, go back and forth about how I should behave, and get dragged into all those stupid games people play so they don't seem too eager. But that won't work with you. I've longed so much to be hit by something like this, to feel so much that it seems I just don't have any choice.'

She wanted to say something but she couldn't think of a single word. All the words that would have been suitable were inaccessible, deep inside some cranny, because she had never before needed them.

'I only know that I've never felt anything like this before.'

He stood there just as naked as his confession. She got up and went over to him, stood behind him and slid her arms through his.

'So don't ever leave me alone with a silent phone again. I don't know if I could stand it.'

He was the most courageous man she had ever met.

'I'm sorry.'

For one dizzying instant she dared to feel total trust, and take comfort from the feeling of being loved through and through. She felt the tears rising again, felt something black and hard inside her begin to dissolve.

He turned round and took her face in his hands.

'I ask only one thing, and that's for you to be honest, that you tell me the truth so I'll understand what's happening. As long as we're honest then neither of us has to be afraid. Don't you think?'

She didn't answer.

'Don't you think?'

Only then did she nod.

'I promise.'

And at that moment she meant it.

They were supposed to have dinner that evening. The following morning she had to leave town to attend the course, and she was already missing him. Four days. Four days and four nights without his presence.

Her mother had been upset. Not about the course itself, but about the fact that the grave would be dark for several days. Monika had promised to hurry home. She would pick her up at three on Sunday when she returned.

She spent a long time going through the clothes in her wardrobe. Actually she had already decided what she was going to wear, knew so well what he liked best, but she wanted to check one last time that she wasn't mistaken. On the way past the window she stopped by one of the orchid plants and pinched off a withered flower. The others still stood in their full splendour, and she regarded their perfect creation. So insanely beautiful, in such absolute symmetry, so utterly without shortcomings or flaws. And yet he had compared her to them when he noticed them in the bedroom window, so he wasn't that smart after all. An orchid was perfect. She wasn't. He had the ability to make her feel unique, both inside and out, but only when he was there and she could dwell in his compelling gaze. When he wasn't there, the other took over, what she knew was inside and wasn't worth loving. Swiftly and ruthlessly it would take back the ground it had lost.

She hesitated in the doorway as she was leaving. If she left this minute she would get there right on time. What would happen if she arrived late? Quite a bit late. How annoyed would he be? Maybe it would make him realise that she wasn't as wonderful as he imagined. Then maybe he would finally reveal his hidden side, expose that flaw that she was convinced he must have somewhere. Show that he only loved her as long as he thought she was perfect. She turned off her mobile and sat down on the hall bench.

She made him wait forty-five minutes. Soaked to the skin he stood in the middle of the square when she finally came running up. He had refused to leave their meeting place.

'Finally ... G.o.d, how worried I was, I thought something had happened.'

Not one mean word. Not the slightest hint of irritation. He pulled her to him and she hid her face against his wet jacket and felt ashamed.

But she wasn't completely convinced. Not deep inside.

They slept together at her place that night. When morning came and she had to leave soon, he lingered and held her in his arms for a long time.

'I've worked out that you're going to be gone for a hundred and eight hours, but I'm not sure I can hold out for more than eighty-five.'

She crept closer to him and rested in another dizzying moment. She wanted to stay this time, and for once allow life itself the opportunity to make the decision.

'You know I'm coming home soon, pulled by magnetic homesickness.'

He smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

'But whatever you do, watch out for those high-tension wires.'

She smiled and saw by the clock that it was high time she left. She had so wanted to say those three words that were so difficult to utter. Instead she put her lips lightly to his ear and whispered.