Back in Neukölln, she stood briefly on the sidewalk watching Berliners rushing past, too absorbed in themselves to notice her. The injuries on her face. Her frown which made her chin feel tight. Her absence of spirit.
She opened the door to her building and lumbered upstairs with her suitcase. She left everything by the door and got undressed in the living room, tossing her clothes on the sofa. She filled a glass of water in the kitchen and took a long sip on the way to the bedroom, leaving the cup on her side table. The sheets on the bed were clean. She always changed them with fresh ones before going away somewhere, since it made coming home that much sweeter. Today it made no difference to her. She crawled in, covering most of her head and rolling onto her stomach, the mattress and thick blanket cradling her to sleep.
Are you back?? Tell me you’re ok? read Chi’s message; the first thing Ida saw when she woke at 2:17 pm.
The fourteen hours of sleep had done her some good. A gentle, glowing ember warmed her stomach from inside, and caused tingles over her skin as she breathed deeply into it. She rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom, having a warm shower while trying to avoid aggravating her cuts and bruises. A steaming bowl of oats in her lap, she sat on the sofa and stared into space while her mind meditated on Paris.
She had been half-walking, half-jogging along the bridge, nervously checking for Vidrik, when a police car pulled up behind her. The window rolled down, and a woman yelled something out at her in French. Ida stopped and shook her head to indicate she did not understand.
“What are you doing?” asked the police officer, this time in English. She had a light brown ponytail, big brown eyes and a wide mouth. “It is not safe to be out here.”
Once the woman noticed the state of Ida’s face her hardened expression changed. She got out and gently guided Ida into the backseat without saying another word. They drove to the hospital in silence, and a distracted looking, silver-haired doctor in his sixties tended to Ida’s wounds. He cleaned the gash above her eye and stitched it up while she held an ice pack against her stomach. He then placed a tiny bandage over her cut and after inspecting her ribs advised her that they were bruised but not broken. They would heal soon, and she should avoid lifting heavy objects or doing anything strenuous in the following weeks. Finally, he handed her a tiny pack of painkillers and rushed out of the room.
Olivia, the police officer who had helped Ida into the police car, explained that the chaos in the city had stretched the hospital’s resources as well as the police’s. She moved Ida to an empty doctor’s office and prepared to take a statement. Ida froze, her mind scrambling to decide how much she should divulge. Elias, Frederich, The League. There was too much to tell, and going down that path would only complicate her life. She kept it simple. She had been invited to a cocktail party by a fashion agent. She was looking for a taxi to go home when she heard the gunshots in the distance and realised when the streets were empty that something was wrong. On her way through the esplanade a man stalked and attacked her, and she eventually fought him off. When asked what the man looked like, she decided there was no harm in describing Vidrik as he was. Olivia asked why Ida did not go back inside the party when she heard the gunshots. Ida froze for a second, cleared her throat, then said she was already too far away, and the man had blocked her path back. Olivia appeared unsatisfied by Ida’s story but did not press her. She checked the time then rubbed her weary eyes before stating that Ida could fly home immediately if she wished. The police might need to contact her again at some stage when the situation calmed down.
It was a relief to be back in Berlin. Ida finished her last spoonful of oats then picked up her phone. She replied: Yes, I’m back. And I’m ok. Can we meet today?
By the time she got dressed Chi had written back.
Of course! I’m working remotely. Come down, wrote Chi, attaching a pinned location on Pannierstrasse just around the corner.
Ida grabbed her handbag and left the apartment. She stepped out into the sun, taking a moment to absorb its uplifting effect before tilting her head and looking around. She had been too exhausted to notice last night, but now in the bright afternoon light it was unmistakable.
The people looked afraid.
Two young men stood at the street corner chatting. They had smiles on their faces, but their eyes were darting around. A family of five walked by, followed closely by two women. The mother of the family stopped suddenly, appearing indecisive about which direction to take next, and the two women nearly bumped into her, flinching and stepping back in the process. They all held out their hands and apologised profusely to each other with intense stares. A man dragged his luggage
