He said nothing, deep in thought.
“Tomas?” Emil said. “Isn’t that just idle gossip that Lothar’s repeating?”
“Of course it’s crap,” he said. “He doesn’t know Ilona in the slightest. She’s never spoken badly of you. It’s a fucking lie. Lothar—”
He was on the brink of telling Emil what he had been told about Lothar, when he suddenly realised that he could not. He realised that he could not trust Emil. His friend. Although he had no reason not to trust him, his life had suddenly begun to revolve around whom he could trust and who not. People he could open his heart to and those he could not talk to. Not because they were underhand, treacherous and conniving, but because they might allow something indiscreet to slip out, just as he had done about Hannes. This included Emil, Hrafnhildur and Karl, his dormitory friends. He had told them about his experience in the basement when it had happened, how Ilona and Hannes knew each other, how exciting everything was, even dangerous. He could not talk like that any longer.
As far as Lothar was concerned, he had to tread particularly carefully. He tried to figure out why Lothar spoke of Ilona like that in his friend’s hearing. Tried to remember whether the German had ever described Hannes in such terms. He could not remember. Perhaps it was a message to him and Ilona. They knew precious little about Lothar. They didn’t know who exactly he was working for. Ilona believed her friends who thought he worked for the security police. And this could well be the method the police used. Spreading slander in small groups to create friction.
“Tomas?”
Emil was trying to get his attention.
“What about Lothar?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I was thinking.”
“You were going to say something about Lothar,” Emil said.
“No,” he said, “it was nothing.”
“What about you and Ilona?” Emil asked.
“What about us?” he said.
“Are you going to stay together?” Emil asked falteringly.
“What do you mean? Of course. What makes you ask?”
“Just take care,” Emil said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, after Hannes got thrown out, you never know what might happen.”
He told Ilona about his conversation with Emil, trying to play it down as best he could. Her expression turned anxious immediately and she asked him for every detail of what Emil had said. They tried to puzzle out Lothar’s motivation. He was clearly slandering her in front of other students and her closest circle, his friends. Was this the start of something bigger? Could Lothar be keeping a special watch on her? Could he know about the meetings? They decided to lie low for a few weeks.
“They’ll just send us home then,” Ilona said, trying to smile. “What else could they do? We’ll go the way of Hannes. It’ll never be more serious than that.”
“No,” he said consolingly, “it will never be more serious than that.”
“They could arrest me for subversion,” she said. “Anti-communist propaganda. Conspiracy against the Socialist Union Party. They have phrases for it.”
“Can’t you stop? Withdraw for a while? See what happens?”
She looked at him.
“What do you mean?” she said. “I don’t let prats like Lothar order me around.”
“Ilona!”
“I say what I think,” she said. “Always. I’d tell everyone who’s interested what’s going on in Hungary and the reforms people are demanding. I’ve always been that way. You know that. I’m not going to stop.”
They both fell into an anxious silence.
“What’s the worst they can do?”
“Send you home.”
“They’ll send me home.”
They looked at each other.
“We’ll have to be careful,” he said. “You’ll have to be careful. Promise me.”
Weeks and months went by. Ilona continued as before, but was more cautious than ever. He attended his classes but was beset by worries about Ilona, telling her time and again to take care. Then one day he met Lothar. He had not seen him for a long time and when he thought afterwards about what had happened he knew that their encounter was no coincidence. He was leaving lectures on his way to meet Ilona by Thomaskirche when Lothar appeared from nowhere. Lothar greeted him warmly. He did not return the greeting and was about to go his own way when Lothar grabbed him by the arm.
“Don’t you want to say hello?” he said.
He tore himself free and was heading down the stairs when he felt a hand on his arm again.
“We ought to talk,” Lothar said when he turned round.
“We’ve got nothing to talk about,” he said.
Lothar smiled again, but his eyes were no longer smiling.
“On the contrary,” Lothar said. “We’ve got plenty to talk about.”
“Leave me alone,” he said, continuing down the stairs to the floor where the cafeteria was located. He did not look back and hoped that Lothar would leave him be, but Lothar stopped him again and glanced around him. He did not want to attract attention.
“What’s all this about?” he snapped at Lothar. “I don’t have anything to say to you. Try to get that into your head. Leave me alone!”
He tried to walk past him, but Lothar blocked his path.
“What’s wrong?” Lothar said.
He stared into the German’s eyes without answering.
“Nothing,” he said eventually. “Just leave me alone.”
“Tell me why you won’t talk to me. I thought we were friends.”
“No, we’re not friends,” he said, “Hannes was my friend.”
“Hannes?”
“Yes, Hannes.”
“Is this because of Hannes?” Lothar said. “Is it because of Hannes you’re acting like this?”
“Leave me alone,” he said.
“What has Hannes got to do with me?”
“You—”
He stopped immediately. Where did Hannes come into the picture? He had not seen Lothar since Hannes’s expulsion. After that Lothar had vanished into thin air. In the meanwhile he had heard Ilona and her friends describe Lothar as a puppet of the security police, a traitor and informer who tried to make people reveal what their friends were thinking and saying. Lothar did not know that he suspected anything. But he had been poised to tell him everything, tell him what Ilona had said about him. Suddenly it struck him that if there was one thing he must not do, it was to give Lothar a piece of his mind, or imply that he knew about him.
It dawned on him how much he still had to learn about the game he was beginning to play, not only with Lothar but also his fellow Icelanders and in fact everyone he met, apart from Ilona.
“I what?” Lothar said stubbornly.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Hannes didn’t belong here any more,” Lothar said. “He had no business being here. You said that yourself. You said that to me. You came to me and we talked about it. We were sitting in the pub and you told me what a cheapskate you thought Hannes was. You and Hannes weren’t friends.”
“No, that’s right,” he said, an unsavoury taste in his mouth. “We weren’t friends.”
He felt he had to say that. He was not fully aware who he was covering for. He no longer knew exactly where he stood. Why he did not speak his mind as he had in the past. He was playing some game of bluff that he barely understood, trying to inch his way forward in total darkness. Maybe he was no braver than that. Maybe he was a coward. His thoughts turned to Ilona. She would have known what to say to Lothar.
“I never said he ought to be expelled,” he said, steeling himself.
“Actually, I recall you talking along exactly those lines,” Lothar said.
“I didn’t,” he said and raised his voice. “That’s a lie.”
Lothar smiled.
“Calm down,” he said.
“Just leave me alone.”