How did you meet Marc?
Why do you want to know?
Why do I? Don't know. I just felt like asking. I just want to know.
She's hesitating. Doesn't she want to answer? Why shouldn't she? It's an easy question.
We met at a hospital.
When was that?
Seven years ago… are you interrogating me? She turned around and looks at me, with a strange stare in her eyes.
I just wanna know… how your life is…. Should I've used past tense? Is this still her life? Or was it? Into what world will she come back, once I'll hand her over to Marc?
How my life is. Wow. She grunts, derogatorily, and turns away again. Then she's silent. Did I force her into thoughts which she's not ready for? I hope not. I hope that if she started thinking back, it's something good that she'll find in her memories.
She's awfully silent. For minutes.
Audrey?
No reaction. She turned away and looks towards the shore that we can see. The sun has already set now and it's getting darker.
Audrey? I ask her again.
Slowly she turns back. She looks sad, somehow. God, Audrey, I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you sad.
Jack… an hour ago, when you begged me not to ask you about the past… I promised not to do it… and I didn't.
She's expecting the same courtesy of me.
I'm sorry, Audrey. I thought the situation was different…. I hoped this would be a good memory, not a bad one.
She takes a few seconds to answer. Is there a change? Is her anger suddenly less and a very small smile has come back? I hope. She's no longer staring at the coastline, feverishly trying to find something for her eyes to hold on to. Instead she's now looking at the waves right in front of our feet. I've seen that view before. That's how you look like, if you're remembering good things. There's a subtle sign of peace on her face.
Suddenly her peaceful view makes place for a worried glance again. Why are you doing this to yourself, Jack?
What do you mean?
You know exactly what I mean. You, asking me about Marc. Do you want me to hurt you, on purpose? Don't tell me this leaves you cold.
Does it? No, it doesn't. I hate Marc. I envy him. I've envied him ever since I first saw him on the pictures, at Audrey's side. She's been so much in the public, along with her father, during the presidential campaign. I followed every photo, every newspaper report. The last thing, before going to sleep was to check the news on my phone. Many nights I fell asleep, the phone still in my hand.
Marc was there. At first, I didn't really notice him. But over the months and years, it got clear to me that he was more than just Heller's campaign manager. I wanted to be happy for her, to be relieved to see her smile on these pictures.
Does it? she asks.
Does it what?
Does it really leave you cold to hear me talk about Marc? About the good times?
I shake my head. No, it doesn't.
Then why do you want me to talk about him? I've had… a wonderful day today. The first one in a long time. Do you want to ruin this beautiful evening?
I don't. I really don't. What do I want? I want to make sure going back to a good place. Damn it, these eyes. She's just a few inches away. We're staring into each other's eyes and if things were different… I love these eyes, but I just can't let her get any closer. She must stay away. She has to go back to her old life, this is the only solution.
Are you?, I add, pushing her for an answer. You spoke to him on the phone, a few days ago.
She shrugs. Her eyes tear up. I don't know how it will be. After all that happened.
She looks so sad. Shall I take her into my arms? Just a moment after asking her about Marc? Damnit I can't stand this look in her eyes. I slowly put my right arm around her shoulders and pull her a little closer. Will she be OK with it?
She is. Her head rests against my chest. Can she hear how nervous I am just because she's here, how fast my heart is beating, how deep each breath is? I hope not.
That last time I saw him…. I felt guilty. Because of you, she begins. I even apologized to him.
You hadn't done anything wrong. We both hadn't. I remember that day. How long was it, our meeting in London? One minute, two?
I know. She sighs. But I felt like apologizing, after I saw you again.
I know exactly what she means. When I came to London, I knew she would be there. A part of me wanted to see her, but an even bigger part of me was afraid how she'd react. If she hated me for leaving her. If she'd see me and instantly fall back into her catatonic state in which she'd been after our ordeal in China. A slap into my face? Heller, driving me away again?
She stepped into that room and totally caught me off guard. I wasn't able to say one word. I could only stare. Finally I got up and she came towards me. There was no hate. There was no regret, no single negative thing.
I close my eyes and hold her closer. Her head rests against my chest. Her hair smells so wonderful.
There was something else, in London. The thing why she felt like apologizing to Marc. Everything that we had ever had was still there. And it is still here, now.
I wanted to tell her that I love her, back then, half a year ago. In the end, I didn't because I just didn't dare to. Destroying her marriage was never what I wanted.
I'd so much want to tell her now, that I love her. No, I can't.
We sit here, both drowned into the same thoughts, clinging to each other silently.
After an eternity, she sighs and silently tells me that she doesn't want to go back to Marc at all.
He tried to sign you death sentence, Jack, she adds, I don't think I can ever look into his eyes again without hating him for that.
He did it for you. He wanted to shield you from every bad thing out there.
She shares a sad laugh with me. Spare me the sympathy. He was an egoistic bastard.
One you once loved.
One I don't want to go back to.
He won't harm you. He still loves you. He'd do anything.
She frees herself from my hug and slips a bit away.
Again we're staring into each other's eyes. It's different this time.
Why did you ask me about Mark, Jack?
Something made me ask. Something made me curious about her and Mark, about their good times. Maybe I subconsciously looked for a topic that would push her a little further away.
Sorry I asked.
She doesn't want to go back to Mark. Of course not. But she has no other option.
We should go to bed, I finally tell her and help her get up.
We take the two blankets with us and slowly head downstairs. It's our first night living on the boat. This is uncharted terrain. The boat has a bedroom at the bow and the sitting area next to the kitchen can also be converted to a bed.
Audrey leads the way along the aisle. As she reaches the door to the bedroom, she turns around for the first time.
I stayed a few steps behind.
Her view asks me if I'm going to join her.
Sleeping in the same bed.
With her.
No. I can't.
As I shake my head, I see the disappointment in her eyes. I'm not sure what she expected me to do, when she wanted me to join her, but this is just not an option.
A few seconds later she closes the door.
It feels awful to turn her down like this. To sense how disappointed she is.
She suddenly opens the door again. She looks pissed.
You know... I'm not going back to a good place, she tells me, before she closes it again. She's really upset.
I'm alone again. Being alone out here is also awful. It is even worse to know that she's angry at me. The boat feels like a small cell that one can't get out of. It takes me a few minutes to convert the sitting area table into the second bed. Once it's done it's sad that it's already done. Could have taken longer. Could have taken a few more minutes that distract me from the fact that I feel like being in a cell again.
I lie down. Try to get some sleep.
Can't.
Audrey is just behind that door. In the end, I probably reached my goal: She's angry. She's going to keep her distance. Isn't that what I actually wanted? Ever since I got onto this boat with Audrey I was afraid of her getting closer.
Damn it, it is no relieve to know that she's angry at me now.
Close my eyes. No. This takes me to a place I don't wanna be at. Each time, it's a different place. The walls of a cell blend into the panelling of the boat hull.
How much time passes until I get up – no idea. When we went to bed, it was just about to get dark. Now it's in the middle of the night.
I get up and climb the few stairs up to the deck again, hoping that Audrey won't hear it.
At night, it's really cold out here. Should have taken the blanket with me… no, don't risk to climb down these creaky stairs again to get it, probably waking her up.
Everything I look at reminds me of something. The solitude. The narrow hull. Now it's the coldness.
I need to distract myself.
Somehow.