He stepped back out of the wardrobe and switched on the television. As he watched the CNN news from Iraq, he remembered the name of the king who was exiled from Jerusalem: it was Zedekiah. The victors had first made him witness the execution of his own sons, then they had blinded him, put him in chains and driven him into captivity. This had no direct connection with the news, so he was all the more curious to know why on earth he had been thinking yesterday about the religious education lesson at which, many years ago, he had been read the story of the last king of Judah. Maybe he associated the blinding of the ruler with the sight of the prisoners whose eyes had been blindfolded?
He was already on his way to the bathroom when he heard a noise coming from the corridor. Someone knocked at his neighbour’s door. Once and again.
‘Please open up!’ he heard a man’s voice. ‘We’ve got a warrant!’
Without hesitation he went into the wardrobe, opened the back door and beckoned to her to come into his room. She managed to grab her handbag and her coat. As he closed the wooden door panel, the key in her lock turned with a dull rattle and several men entered the next-door room – probably policemen – with the help of the hotel staff. While they were searching her luggage, she sat beside him on the sofa. He gently took hold of her hand, which she did not withdraw.
‘So what now?’ he whispered.
‘They’ll arrest me, as usual.’
‘But nothing happened. You haven’t done anything.’
‘That’s just how it looks. You know what it’s called? An attempt. In Italy I would lie my way out of it and only get a few days. In Switzerland I might get more. They’ll find a picture of Luigi in my case. The old woman’s costume and the saint’s robes. Newspaper cuttings. That’s enough. Three years ago I was arrested in Einsiedeln, so I’ve already had a sentence here. Suspended.’
‘We can run away if you like,’ he said.
‘Of course I do, but how? They’re sure to post someone at reception for the whole night. But I’ve no reason to go back in there now,’ she said, pointing at the wall with the wardrobe.
‘First let’s wait a bit,’ he said, turning up the television, ‘then I’ll go and reconnoitre.’
After an hour, during which they sat huddled together shyly like a pair of school children, he went down to the hotel bar, slowly passing the reception. There were two men sitting in armchairs in the lobby, clearly on duty. He drank a small whisky and went back to the lift. There was no one in the corridor on the third floor, and there were no sounds coming from behind the door of her room.
‘Put on my coat, trousers, shoes, scarf and also… my glasses. It’s a pity I haven’t got a hat. But you can smoke my pipe. Yes, like that. Keep your hands in the pockets. Here’s a rain hat, I brought it just in case. Wait, a man’s shirt under the coat, with the collar done up, and a tie – you must have a tie, so it shows under the scarf. Just walk through at a calm pace and get in a taxi, as if you were off for a late supper. But wash off your make-up. We’ll pin your hair up under the cap – like that, look. You can hang my bag over your shoulder. I’ll put your handbag in my suitcase.’
‘All right, but then what?’
‘You’ll take a taxi to the station. The night train from Geneva to Rome departs from platform three at half-past midnight. Let’s meet at the platform entrance. Stand facing the timetable board and don’t look round. I’ll be there ten minutes after you.’
‘We haven’t got much time.’
‘If you’re not on the platform, I’ll go back to the hotel.’
‘If they detain me, they’ll ask who helped me.’
‘So tell them.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You will, but only after noon. I’ll be far away.’
‘And will we ever meet again?’
‘You’ll send me a letter from prison.’
‘To what address? I don’t even know your surname!’
‘Here’s my card.’
‘No, because if they catch me…’
‘They won’t catch you. Take it. But let’s hurry.’
When she went out into the corridor with the bag slung over her shoulder, in his raincoat with the collar slightly turned up and with his cap on her head, adjusting the glasses and puffing on the pipe, he thought the shoes might give her away more than anything: they were too big, and despite her efforts, every second or third step she distinctly shuffled them in a funny way. But there was no time for practice. He packed at lightning speed, highly amused by the situation. In just his suit, and with his small case, he appeared at the reception desk to hand in his key.
‘Are you leaving?’ asked the young man.
‘My bill is paid,’ he said in a confident tone. The two gentlemen in the armchairs cast him furtive glances, but neither of them so much as raised a finger.
‘Yes, of course,’ confirmed the receptionist. ‘Bon voyage.’
He gave him a nod, and just outside the hotel he got in a taxi. He glanced at his watch: the night express was leaving in fifteen minutes. He still had enough time to stop at the ticket office and buy two first-class tickets for the sleeping car. Teresa was standing in front of the platform timetable; one of her rolled-up trouser legs had come undone, hiding her shoe. The train was just pulling in. They were walking alongside each other, when suddenly one of the wheels on his case began to squeak.
‘I don’t have a large flat in Rome,’ she said, once they were in the compartment. ‘I don’t know if you’ll like it.’
‘But I don’t want to go to Rome at all, and I’m not planning to stay at your flat.’
‘So what are your plans?’
‘To stop in Venice.’
‘For how long?’
‘A week or two.’
She went behind the screen to wet her face and neck in the sink.
‘But can you stay a day with me?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘You’ll meet my daughter. She isn’t mad like me. Luckily I did manage to pay for the hotel,’ – she changed the subject – ‘but for this luxury here I will be in your debt. Until next month, if that’s all right. Why don’t you say something? Perhaps you just want to sleep with me? Are you expecting something?’
‘I’d like to have a cup of tea.’
‘Hand me my blouse. Tea at this time of day? That’s a Russian habit. I’m sorry, perhaps I’ve offended you. So did you take care of your business in Zurich?’
‘Yes. I won’t be going back there again.’
They sat facing each other and drank the tea served by the steward. Outside the lights of passing stations flashed by. Finally they lay down, each in their own bed.
‘Do you know of a boarding house in Venice?’ she asked in the darkness.
‘No. I’m staying at the Hotel Danieli.’
‘Do you know how much that costs? A fortune!’
‘Tough. Unless you come with me and help me find something cheaper.’
‘I’d have to bring my daughter.’
‘So bring her.’
‘Are you serious? Or are you just…’
‘I’m serious.’
Once again they were silent, until finally he said: ‘I’d like to kiss you. When I first saw you in the train to Zurich I dreamed of kissing you.’
‘And I asked if we were already in Zurich, as if I didn’t know where we were. I wanted you to embrace me. I want you to now, too.’
He climbed the ladder and kissed Teresa on the cheek, then on the lips. She held his head in her arm so that he had to lie down beside her. Both of them were shy, gentle, longing for love. Teresa fell asleep first, with her cheek against his neck. He stroked her hair softly, and as the night finally engulfed him, he realised he was starting a journey without end or beginning, beyond the curse of time.