Falling Walls (III)

Chapter 17

I glanced again at the photos of us. What was I crying about? I knew that I had to get over it once and for all. With a deep breath I wiped my tears away and logged myself into the computer and got to work. If Tom believed in me, so would I.

Everything was set up for me. All projects I had been working on were here. For the next thirty minutes, I clicked through my computer. Then I got up and went into the lunch room. Where better to meet the people who work here.

The room was empty but then I remembered that it was Sunday and Easter on top of it. I noticed the coffee machine and thought I should make myself another coffee and maybe one for Tom's receptionist. I just couldn't remember her name. Before I had the chance to fill the first cup, Tom strode in. A slight smile danced around the corner of his mouth. "There's a coffee machine in the office." Yes, I knew. "Let's go out for lunch, darling."

Hand in hand, we strolled out of the office building, onto the road. Tom led me down along the harbour into the Old Town. I loved the historic architecture. We passed the impressive renaissance Town Hall, along smaller and smaller alleyways   until we arrived at a tiny fish shack. The outside was painted in two different blue shades which were already peeling off. White and grey undercoats together with cracks in the foundation were visible all over the wall. I threw a questioning look at Tom.

"Very good fish," Tom smirked.

"I thought you don't eat fast food?"

"This hardly counts as fast food. Fresh fish every day. Even on Easter."

"How did you know it was open?"

"Because Metes' is open every day of the year."

"Okay." I hesitantly responded, shrugging my shoulders. Tom's arm slid around my shoulders exuberantly, as I followed his steps towards the shack.

"I know you're not a big fish fan, darling, but you're going to love Mete's fish rolls. To die for."

When Tom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, I stopped him. "My treat."

For a moment, he looked at me bewildered. I could basically hear his thoughts scream: Not again! But it was important to me that at least from time to time I'd get to pay, even if only for small things.

"Please Tom. I owe you that one. And you get to pay for dinner." He found that amusing, grinning from ear to ear. As he tucked his wallet back into his pocket, he bowed playfully. "As madam wishes."

Walking with our fish rolls in hand along Hamburg Harbour, our arms tightly embracing around our backs, I marvelled at its beauty. And so we continued walking through Tom's home city until the sun was slowly setting, immersing the city landscape in a soft orange.

Along the waterfront, Tom indicated me to sit down on a bench next to us, overlooking the harbour and one of Hamburg's beautiful bridges. A large fright ship just passed by. "Any more to drink?" Tom passed me the bottle of iced tea we'd gotten to share. I took a sip, then handed it to Tom again and leaned back in his arms. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, smelling the salty sea and tasting a thin layer on my lips. Somehow this reminded me of the night of the fundraiser when we had only known each other for a few days. We sat on a bench just like this, and I was confused, just like now. But back than it was Sydney Harbour we were overlooking and no future was in sight for us, with Tom just being a visitor to the city. This time it all lay ahead of us. We were overlooking Hamburg Harbour, both as visitors.

"I love you Tom. I love you so much."

For a while, Tom didn't answer. Not that he had to, but I did sort of expect a return "I love you". Opening one eye only, I checked on him. His glance said more than words could ever say. But then, he said it. "I love you too, Lisa. So much, it hurts. I just want to make you happy. Nothing else matters."

All snuggled up, we finished the Iced Tea, until the flashing of cameras interrupted our peacefulness. Tom was cursing, rushing me away, which I could more than understand now. He pulled me toward the road, typing into his phone before one of the shiny black cars arrived.

"I really didn't think anyone would know already we are here. I'm so sorry our day out got cut short," Tom apologised, clearly stressed as he ran his hands nervously through his hair.
The invasion of our privacy now began annoying me too. But I didn't want to complain. We could always have a lovely rest of the day at home.

I snuggled up to Tom in the car, who was still, or maybe again - I couldn't tell - frantically typing on his phone. I moved my glance to the side window, soaking in Hamburg City. From time to time my eyes wandered to the rear view mirror, but I couldn't detect anyone following us. At a red traffic light we came to a halt. I watched a young family strolling down the streets, the with kids ice cream in their hands and the parents sipping from a coffee. Next year, we would spend Easter that way. I would make sure of it. But right then, I was where I needed to be. Was it intuition? Was it destiny? I wasn't sure. But as the car slowly drove on just to come to a halt again, the silhouettes of the family I was watching became smaller and smaller. I moved my eyes back to the outside world in front of my window. I had to look twice. A poster on the inside of a book shop advertised a Meet the Author and Info session with Eva Thymann. I stared at the picture of Eva, the same one as on the cover of the book I was reading. The car's movement as it drove on woke me from my trance. Quickly I retrieved my phone from my bag and took a picture of it, just in time. The event was on Wednesday. Only three days away.

Tom seemed to be oblivious to my inner turmoil, but I felt a strong desire to attend the info session with Eva. At the same time, and I couldn't place what it was, I knew I shouldn't. I had chosen Eva's book as it provided some distance to Tom's story, yet I feared how it would affect him. Wasn't it every orphan child's wish that everything was just a mix up and their parents are out there looking for them. Well, somewhere out there is someone, Max, whose mother never gave up. And as similar some of the events and even the physical features of this family were to Tom's, it was impossible. Although, deep down, a flicker inside of me held a doubt.

As soon as we got home, Tom jumped on his computer. He seemed agitated. I felt the same, but for very different reasons. I didn't really know his. Tom didn't really know mine. Because there was nothing else I could possibly concentrate on, I grabbed Eva's book from my bag.

Opening the last page I had been reading on the way to Hamburg, the resemblance between Johan in the picture and Tom struck me again. But then, of course, I knew that that was because they were both rowing athletes, or at least they used to be. I'd had a look at many other photos online and there was definitely something about rowers and their sharp body and facial features. Immediately, I lost myself in Eva's words, as she relived her young adulthood.

Eva continued talking about her early years with Johan in communist Germany. After he had been selected to join the rowing squad of the State Secretariat for Physical Culture in the GDR, they only sporadically got to see each other, usually when Johan came home for holidays. He changed schools, moving into one of the many sports boarding schools. Again, it took me a moment to swallow what I had just read. This man just resembled Tom in so many ways. He was fifteen at the time. Tom was that age when he moved into a boarding school through the German Olympic Sports Network. But of course, both stories happened at very different times and under very different circumstances.

Johan and Eva continued their relationship more or less secretly against wishes of the Secretariat. They would have preferred Johan to entirely concentrate on his sport. In hindsight, after reading her Stasi, the state security services, documents, Eva knew they had been spied on from the moment Johan had been picked for the rowing squad. Their every love letter, every phone conversation, public appearance and argument had been documented.

Due to her family connections, that's what she believed; Eva got selected to study psychology. During her second year she went to visit Johan in a training camp in Hungary, where he prepared for the upcoming world championships in Great Britain. They were both aware they wouldn't see each other for a long time and there was no hope that Eva could accompany him to a non-communist country. She even felt jealous of Johan, having had the dream of leaving the GDR behind for many years. At times she feared, sometimes hoped for him, he would find a chance to flee when abroad. She didn't know at the time, but several remarks of hers indicating thoughts of finding freedom outside the republic had been documented.

Upon her return from Hungary Eva found she was pregnant.

Pregnant.