Chapter 23
I tried not to betray my fear as we entered the airport. We'd agreed for Monica and the kids to check in together, then Petter separately, and me last. I'd flown plenty of times but I'd never been quite so worried about being apprehended. I hadn't seen myself on the Norwegian news but my phone showed news reports in Stockholm with my picture on them, saying I was wanted for breaking Petter out of jail and in connection with Sven Birgersson's kidnap and torture.
In the past, I'd been careless and blasé about what might happen to me but now, I had so much to lose. I had Petter and a new life waiting for me and it could be snatched away from me in a second if the officials in Oslo happened to be looking for me.
I watched Monica and the kids disappear through security and a few minutes later Petter followed. None of them were held up and everything seemed to go smoothly. The line I was in moved slowly but eventually I reached the check-in desk and offered my passport. I checked the holdall in and waited, hoping I didn't look as sweaty and anxious as I felt, while my passport was scanned and boarding card produced.
"Here you go, sir. Have a nice flight." The young staff member passed me my documents and indicated I should walk on through security. Almost there.
I could see Petter up ahead, walking through the scanning gate. He wasn't as far ahead of me as I'd thought. The scanner didn't beep, and he collected his boots and jacket from the conveyor belt. Then he stooped to put his boots on. I slipped off my suit jacket and unfastened my shoes, then checked my trouser pockets and removed my phone and a few coins. I put them in a tray on the conveyor belt and waited until I was beckoned through the scanner. It beeped immediately and I froze as a security guard approached, looking me up and down.
"Go back through and take your belt off," he said.
"Oh, of course. Sorry," I muttered, and did as I was told. This time, no beep. The man didn't look at me again and I collected my belongings quickly. My hands shook as I tied my shoelaces, then walked as casually as I could manage through to the departure lounge where I spotted Petter waiting for me. I hurried to him. "I thought they had me there for a second."
He grinned. "I never thought I'd see Da—um, Alex shit himself."
"Fuck off." I punched him lightly in the arm. "Where are the others?"
"In Duty Free. Want to check it out?"
"Not really. I could use a drink." I indicated a bar. "Do you want a beer?"
"All right."
I drank two large Scotches while Petter sipped a small beer. The time crawled by. Every time I looked at my watch, only five or ten minutes had passed. I longed to slide my hand into Petter's and hold onto him but even though I spotted two young guys holding hands as they walked by, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd spent my whole life hiding who I was and so had Petter. I was too unsure of myself to out us both in front of dozens of people, even though none of them knew us.
Eventually, our flight was called. Monica and the kids stayed away from us and boarded the plane before us. Just in case I was caught I didn't want them anywhere near me, although I wasn't able to tell Petter to keep his distance. I hadn't been lying to make him feel better when I'd said I needed him.
We boarded the plane a few minutes later. We weren't sitting together and he was two rows in front of me. I sat down reluctantly in the aisle seat and strapped myself in. The window seat beside me remained empty, much to my relief. The plane doors were closed and as we taxied onto the tarmac, I realised Petter could sit with me after all as soon as we were in the air and the seatbelt signs went off.
I was used to flying. I didn't know if Petter and Monica were as we hadn't talked about it. I drummed my fingers impatiently as the cabin crew went through the safety instructions. Then we were informed that Duty Free could be purchased on the plane and that a meal would be provided later. We had to wait while two planes ahead of us took off but finally we were on our way. The plane lifted into the air and gained height quickly. I leaned over and looked out of the window as Oslo shrank below us, and the plane banked to start on its course for New York.
When the seatbelt signs went off, people began to move about in their seats, some getting up to retrieve bags from above and others heading for the toilets. I got up and made my way forwards to Petter's seat. He was sitting on the aisle too.
"Hey." I squeezed his shoulder. "There's a spare seat next to mine. Come and sit with me." He got up immediately and joined me in the window seat.
"I expect you've done this a lot," he said.
"Yeah."
"I've never been on a plane. Nor has Monica. I'm sure the kids think this is a great adventure." He smiled thinly and stared at his lap.
"Are you nervous?"
He shrugged. "I can think of things I'd rather be doing."
"We could watch a movie?" I suggested.
"All right." He copied me as I tapped at the screen in the back of the seat in front of me and scrolled through the options. He found a thriller he liked the look of and although it wasn't my usual style, I chose to watch it with him. We plugged in the earphones and hit "Play." Petter took off his jacket after a minute and rolled it up.
"Give that to me."
"Huh?" He passed me the jacket, eyebrows raised.
I unrolled it and draped it over the armrest between us, then slid my hand underneath and found his. He grinned and threaded his fingers through mine.
We watched two movies before the meal came around, then Petter watched a programme about renovating a classic car and I listened to some music. We held hands the entire time, other than when we were eating or one or other of us went to the toilet. We landed in New York on time and disembarked, both of us with relief for different reasons.
Petter spotted Monica and the kids in Baggage Claim and went to join them. My bag was the first off the belt, so I grabbed it and collected a trolley to put all the bags on. Half an hour later we piled into a taxi. I'd checked out some hotels on my iPad while we waited for the last bag and I asked the driver to take us to one of them. We checked into a family room for Monica and the kids, and a double for Petter and me. It was late in the evening and Petter and I took quick showers before falling into bed. I checked the news again before I let myself go to sleep, and discovered that Stockholm police believed I could have left the country but they didn't have any leads and suspected I may have returned to Croatia. I heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed I was in the clear.
In the morning I rose early and left Petter sleeping. I had an errand to do and I didn't want him with me for that. I headed out and found a post office where boxes could be rented. I secured one for a month, then bought a cheap phone and called Blanka. The phone rang for almost a minute before she picked up, sounding breathless. I didn't ask.
"It's me," I said.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, all of us are fine. Write down this address." I gave her the address of the post office box.
"Is that where you're staying?" she asked me.
"No. We have another flight later today. But you can send the jewellery here."
"I'll do it today," she promised.
I called into a bakery before I returned to the hotel. The rooms we'd booked didn't include breakfast, although there was a buffet available if we wanted it. Instead, I collected a bag full of bagels with assorted fillings, three coffees, and two hot chocolates for the kids. Petter was up and dressed when I let myself back into the room.
"Where were you?" he demanded.
"I just went to get breakfast. I thought this would be better than more hotel food."
"Oh. Sorry, I thought—" He sighed and shrugged. "I don't know what I thought. My head's still fucked up."
"That's not unexpected. Here." I passed him a coffee. "I brought hot chocolate for Per and Oscar. There's coffee for Monica, too, and bagels for everyone."
Petter grinned. "You're going to be a hit. Let's go next door." He took his coffee and led the way to Monica's room. Per let us in.
"Mum's in the shower," he said clearly in English with barely an accent. "Did you bring breakfast?"
"Anyone like hot chocolate?" I offered him one of the paper cups.
"Yeah!"
Oscar rushed over immediately to get the second cup.
"Boys, come on. Say thanks to Alex." Petter frowned at them.
"Sorry, Dad. Thank you, Alex." Per smiled up at me.
"You're welcome."
"Thank you, Alex," Oscar repeated.
"Is there food too?" Per asked with a grin. "Please?"
"Sure." I handed him the bag. "Help yourselves. There are bagels with different fillings. Cheese and tomato—"
Per wrinkled his nose.
"Cream cheese and smoked salmon—"
"Yuk!"
"Peanut butter?"
"Cool!"
Petter laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, they're going to love you."
"So long as you do, I'm happy," I whispered.
He grinned and helped himself to a cheese and tomato bagel. We were going to be okay, I thought. We would make it.