Emil, his closest friend, mentioned this once when he sat down beside him in the library.
“Is everything okay?” Emil asked, sniffing. He had a cold. It was a gloomy, blustery autumn and the dormitory was freezing.
“Okay?” he said. “Yes, everything’s okay.”
“No, because,” Emil said, “well… we get the feeling you’re avoiding us. That’s wrong, isn’t it?”
He looked at Emil.
“Of course that’s wrong,” he said. “There’s just so much that has changed for me. Ilona and, you know, lots of things have changed.”
“Yes, I know,” Emil said in a concerned voice. “Of course. Ilona and all that. Do you know much about this girl?”
“I know everything about her,” he laughed. “It’s okay, Emil. Don’t look so worried.”
“Lothar was talking about her.”
“Lothar? Is he back?”
He had not told his friends what Ilona’s comrades had revealed about Lothar Weiser and his part in Hannes’s expulsion from the university. Lothar was not at the university when it reconvened that autumn and he had not seen or heard of him until now. He had resolved to avoid Lothar, avoid everything connected with him, avoid talking to him and about him.
“He was in our kitchen the night before last,” Emil said. “Brought a big bag of pork chops. He always has plenty of food.”
“What did he say about Ilona? Why was he talking about her?”
He made a bad job of concealing his eagerness. He glared agitatedly at Emil.
“Just that she was a Hungarian and that they were a law unto themselves,” Emil said. “That sort of thing. Everyone’s talking about what’s going on in Hungary but no one seems to know exactly what it is. Have you heard anything through Ilona? What’s happening in Hungary?”
“I don’t know much,” he said. “All that I know is people are discussing change. What exactly did Lothar say about Ilona? A law unto themselves? Why did he say that? What did he mean by it?”
Noticing his eagerness, Emil tried to remember Lothar’s exact words.
“He said he didn’t know where she stood,” Emil ventured after a long pause. “He doubted that she was a genuine socialist and said she was a bad influence. She talked about people behind their backs. Us too, your comrades. He said she was nasty about us. He’d heard her do that.”
“Why did he say that? What does he know about Ilona? They’re complete strangers. She’s never spoken to him.”
“I don’t know,” Emil said. “It’s just idle gossip. Isn’t it?”
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.