her friends desired he had always had and taken so much for granted that he had never given it any special consideration. She talked about friends who had been arrested and spent time in prison, about people who had disappeared and whose whereabouts were unknown. He noticed the fear in her voice but also the exhilaration brought about by having deep conviction and fighting for it regardless of the cost. He sensed her tension and excitement at the great events that were unfolding.
He thought a lot during the weeks they spent travelling that summer, and grew convinced that the socialism he had found in Leipzig was built on a lie. He began to understand how Hannes felt. Like Hannes, he had woken up to the realisation that the truth was not single, simple and socialist; rather, there was no simple truth. This complicated beyond all measure his view of the world, forcing him to tackle new and challenging questions. The first and most important hinged on how to react. He was in the same position as Hannes. Should he continue studying in Leipzig? Should he go back to Iceland afterwards? The assumptions behind studying in Leipzig had changed. What was he supposed to say to his family? From Iceland he heard that Hannes, the former youth movement leader, had written newspaper articles and addressed meetings about East Germany, criticising communist policy. He provoked both anger and uproar among Icelandic socialists and had weakened their cause, especially against the backdrop of what was happening in Hungary.
He knew that he was still a socialist and that that would not change, but the version of socialism he had seen in Leipzig was not what he wanted.
And what about Ilona? He did not want to do anything without her. Everything they would do after this, they would do together.
They discussed all this during the last days of their trip and reached a joint decision. She would continue studying and working in Leipzig, go to her clandestine cell meetings, distribute information and monitor developments in Hungary. He would continue studying and act as if nothing had changed. He remembered his diatribe against Hannes for abusing the East German communist party’s hospitality. He now intended to do precisely the same, and had trouble justifying this to himself.
He felt uncomfortable. Never before had he been in such a dilemma — his life had always been so simple and secure. He thought of his friends back in Iceland. What was he going to tell them? He had lost his bearings. Everything he had believed in so steadfastly had become alien. He knew that he would always live according to the socialist ideal of equality and fair distribution of wealth, but socialism as practised in East Germany was no longer worth believing in or fighting for. His mind was only beginning to change. It would take time to understand it completely and to redefine the world, and in the meantime he did not intend to make any radical decisions.
When they returned to Leipzig he moved out of the ramshackle villa and into Ilona’s room. They slept together on the old futon. At first, her landlady had doubts. As a strict Catholic she wanted to preserve decorum, but she gave in. She told him that she had lost her husband and both sons in the siege of Stalingrad. She showed him photographs of them. They got on well together. He did odd tasks for her in the flat, mended things, bought kitchen utensils and food, and cooked. His friends from the dormitory sometimes called round, but he felt himself growing away from them, and they found him more subdued and reticent than before.
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?”
