Forget Me Not

"I imagine it will be a bit of a shock to start off with. And I'm going to have to find another office buddy."

She smiled up at me. "Having you to talk to has made the past few months much easier."

"Ditto. Though I'd probably have got more studying done without you around."

"You are a clever man, you will do well."

"Right," I sighed, "time to carry on with my night. See you later Erika."

"Later, Daniel."

She watched me, and waved a small goodbye as I opened the stairwell door.

I made my way downwards, floor by floor, trying not to think too hard about what to do with myself when she was gone. I checked doors, lobbies, bathrooms, nodded to the other cleaning staff, and then slumped down into my chair and put a concerted hour into partial integrals. I'd managed to find an American mathematics lecturer who put course notes and explanations on YouTube, and her videos were clearing some of the murk I was wading through.

Time crawled by. I read, made coffee, worked through exercises, watched more explanatory videos, and then fell down a rabbit hole of Chemistry, Aviation and then full on cool-explosions shit thanks to YouTube's algorithm.

Someone coughed.

I looked up, and Erika grinned down at me. "Working hard I see," she said, amused. "Here. I made you extra this time."

She pushed a tupperware container over the counter to me. "Enjoy," she added.

"Are you off?"

"Yes. My shift is over. It is midnight."

"Shit, time flew tonight."

"It is all the videos you were watching," she said, smiling. "Take care, Daniel. See you tomorrow."

"Night, Erika. See you tomorrow."

I watcher her walk out the building, and sighed. I pulled the tupperware to me, and opened the lid. Inside, golden brown plaited pastries nestled together like the cheerful pupae of the diabetes moth.

A small square envelope, wrapped in grease-proof paper, was taped to the underside of the lid. Curious, I pulled it free, and opened the flap.

Inside was a small photo. I took a breath, let it out. Erika and a blonde-haired child smiled up at me. Erika looked young, vibrant, alive. I flipped the photo over, read the neatly written message she'd left me.

- So you can understand how much what you did meant for me. Erika -

I let out a long, slow, sad sigh, turned the photo over again, stared at Erika and Ilse once more. Then I slipped the photo back into its envelope, and tucked both into the valuables pouch of my backpack, next to my wallet.

I didn't do any more studying that night. I just buried myself in the internet in an attempt to stave off the sudden stab of loneliness.

My trip home was quiet, and I ate a mechanical "supper" and crawled into bed, not even bothering to shower.

Sleep eluded me.

Sadness, however, found me easily.

.:.

Our evenings passed, far too quickly for my liking. Erika was transformed. She carried an easy smile now, and sometimes I'd catch her singing softly to herself when she wasn't paying attention.

I was happy for her, happy that her time in the shadows was coming to an end. But I felt a profound bleakness take me whenever I stopped to think. So I busied myself with work, with chatting to her, with aggressively refusing to consider what would happen in a few weeks.

Erika got an interview. Then she got two more, and a second round at a start-up in central London. I could see the excitement in her eyes, could hear the new lightness in her voice when she breathlessly babbled to me about her plans, about how she'd found a cheap bunk-bed on Gumtree and had spent the weekend cleaning it so that she had space for Ilse to sleep when she visited, about the children's books she'd found at a church sale...

I was watching her building a life for herself and her daughter, firm in the knowledge that my contact with them would fade like morning mist.

I never, ever let that awareness show. I laughed with her, helped her choose colours for Ilse's bedding, made suggestions for books based on what my brother and sister in law had bought their little girl.

One night in a fit of pique I went onto Amazon and found a small unicorn plush doll, which arrived the next day. "For Ilse", I told Erika, presenting it to her when she was leaving. "A... a Geschenk."

"You have been practicing," she said softly. "You almost got that right."

"I did a year of German at school, long ago."

"I... I got an offer letter today," she said, after a brief silence.

"From the start up?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to take it?"

"I think so. They want me to start on Monday."

"Do it. One hundred percent, do it. This is is your chance."

"I... I think I am going to."

I smiled at her. "Good. I'm glad. So... that means tonight's probably your last shift?"

"Yes," she said, looking down and away.

"So I guess this is goodbye then?"

"Daniel..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "Just... thank you for being a friend when I needed one."

I spread my arms out, and she stepped forward into me, leaning her cheek against me. I felt her sigh as I closed my arms around her, and I held her for a long moment.

"Take care of yourself, and good luck on your first day," I said softly. I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her against me; she let out a small sound.

"I am going to miss you," she whispered.

"Me too. Stop in to say hello sometime."

"I... I will. " She stared up at me. "Vergiss mich nicht, Daniel," she whispered. She stood up on her toes, kissed my cheek, and then turned and walked away, shoulders hunched.

I kept the smile on my face, waving back to her when she turned, once, to look back at me. Then I sat down, slumped forward, cradled my head in my hands, and swore a quiet "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck cunt," to myself.

I gave myself a few moments to feel sad, then pulled myself together. I stood up, made a coffee, and forced myself back to work.

She'd made it out.

I would too.

.:.

Nights passed, turning into weeks. I woke mechanically at dusk, showered, got dressed, ate something plain, and took the bus in to work. I'd greet Bill placidly, tag in, take the phone, and wave him off home to his wife and dogs. Then I'd open my books and begin work.

I no longer roamed the office. I'd lost any desire to do anything but do my time and get out of this job. I missed Erika with an almost physical pain. I'd only realised how much she'd started to mean to me when she was waving goodbye for the last time.

I hoped she and Ilse were well, and that she was making progress with the 'Hexen'.

.:.

It was a Friday, in mid-March, cold but not too cold. I arrived at the office, tagged in, and was about to make myself a coffee when Bill ambled over to the desk.

"Danny, son, someone left a package for you this evening."

"A package, for me? Nah, can't be. Must be a mistake."

"No, the instructions were extremely specific. Here, she made me write them down."

"She?" I said, frowning.

"A young woman," he said, with a wink. "Nice suit, lovely figure. If I were younger and the missus weren't Irish..."

"Bill," I laughed. "Please."

"Here you are," he said, handing me a small box wrapped in brown wrapping paper. "It's too small to be flowers," he said. "Chocolates maybe?"

"Nobody buys me chocolates. Or flowers, for that matter." I cleared a space on the desk, rummaged for a pair of scissors, cut the twine and tape. I pulled the paper back, and stood, staring down at the small tupperware container.

"Danny? You ok, lad?"

"Yeah... just... yeah. I'm ok."

I lifted the container, and a small envelope was revealed. I set the tupperware aside, picked the envelope up, opened it and pulled out the neatly-folded sheet of forget-me-not blue paper inside. "Open the lid," I told Bill as I turned away. "It will be sweet pastries. Help yourself, just don't blame me if you pick up a stone just from looking at them."

I leaned against the wall, took a breath, unfolded the letter, exhaled.

Dear Daniel

I hope this letter finds you well.

I have managed to convince the Hexen to let me

have Ilse to stay two weekends a month, with a

path to joint custody if all goes well. My ex-husband's

new woman is not the whore I thought she was, and she

has been an unexpected ally in this. She has made him

behave. I owe her more than I can put into words.

Daniel... I wanted to tell you, again, how much what

you did for me meant to me... to us.

I have adjusted to "real" life, but I miss you,

and I miss our talks. If you are ever free, and have the

time, and miss talking to me... this is my number.

Thank you for everything you did. I can never

repay you, but I do still owe you £160. You should come

and get it sometime.

x

Erika

Underneath the letter, in crayon, a child had scrawled something that in good light could be deciphered as "Ilse".

I sniffed and scrubbed at my eyes.

"Danny? Everything ok, lad?"

"Yeah, Bill. Everything's ok now. I'm ok. Everything's ok."

"These things are phenomenal."

"I know. So's the woman who bakes them."

He laughed then, a dirty old man laugh if ever there was one, but the hand he placed on my shoulder was gentle, fatherly. "Opportunity knocks once, Danny. You need a weekday evening off, lad, you just let me know."

"Thanks Bill. I... I think I'll take you up on that."

.:.

It was 9am on the next morning, and I'd slept maybe two hours, if that. I stared at the letter again, and dialed her number with a shaking hand.

Ring.

Ring.

Click.

"Hallo?"

I sighed out a breath. "Erika. Hello, it's Danny."

"Daniel! Oh, oh, I have missed your voice so much!"

"Me too," I said. "It's not the same without you to talk to."

"It's so lonely without my office friend," she agreed. "My colleagues are nice but they're all so young!"

"Younger than you?" I said, laughing.

"Some of them," she replied, and I smiled to myself at the happiness I could hear in her voice. "Where are you, Daniel?"

"At home, got off shift about... what, seven hours ago."

"And you're awake? Daniel! That is madness!"

"Your letter made me miss your voice, Erika. I couldn't sleep."

There was a silence, and then I heard her sigh. "Well. So. You got my pastries?"

"Yes, thank you. They were delicious."

I heard a child in the background, a demanding "Mama, mama, come and see."

"Is that Ilse?" I asked.

"Yes... She is with me this weekend. It is chaos," she laughed, helplessly. "I am not used to this. Out of practice."

I chuckled. "My niece is a sugar-fueled engine of chaos and destruction; Ilse sounds the same."

"You just have no idea," Erika replied. She paused. "Daniel... are you busy today?"

"No, nothing going on today."

"So you are free?"

"I am."

"Daniel, I am taking Ilse to the park in half an hour."

"Which park?"

"Oh. Oh of course, I never told you where I live. We are in Epsom, we are going to Preston playground because Ilse loves it there. Are you anywhere nearby?"

"About an hour away. Do... do you want company?"

"I would really like your company."

"Ok. I'll try to be there within an hour or so... is that ok?"

"I will be looking forward to seeing you."

"See you soon, Erika."

I hung up, took a deep breath, and then started to dig for the nicest casual clothes I had. I brushed my teeth, applied deodorant, showered, realised what I'd done, swore, applied deodorant again, and then got dressed. I grabbed my wallet, my keys, my phone and my battered sunglasses, and locked the door behind me.

I made the chain of bus changes and walked the final mile, trying to control the incredible swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

The playground was relatively empty, and rather than look like a dodgy pedo I lurked at the bus stop on the far side of the road, and sent her a message to let her know that I'd arrived.

- We are at the carousel - she replied.

- I'll be right there - I sent, and I jogged over the road and through the rusted dog gate.

Erika saw me before I saw her, and started to jump up and down and wave both her hands overhead to signal to me. Ilse copied her. Both were flushed and laughing when I reached them, and Ilse's infectious giggles smoothed over the initial shyness I felt. I clasped Erika's hand, kissed both cheeks, and was rewarded with a warm smile. Then she knelt down, and I followed suit as she introduced me to Ilse.

And then as Ilse scampered off, Erika turned to me, wrapped her arms around me, and pulled me hard against her.

"It is so good to see you again," she said softly. "I did not realise just how much I missed you until you phoned."

I smiled down at her. "It's good to see you again."

She released me, turned, and linked arms with me, dragging me along as we trailed her daughter's chaotic path through the playground.

"So how is work?"

"Good. It is good. They like me."

"That's always a good start."

"And it is easy work. Start at nine, finish at five, and I can be home by six if I am quick."

"That does sound good."

"How is your studying going?"

"Better now that you're not there to distract me."

She laughed softly. "I do feel a little guilty about that. But it was always so nice to have you to talk to."

"Yes, it was. It's very boring now. I spend most of my time at the desk."

"No more patrols?"

"No. No reason to any more."

She glanced up at me, then away. In front of us, Ilse had an altercation with a swing.

"This child," Erika muttered. "No sense. Ilse! Be careful!"

"Yes mama!" Ilse called. Erika sighed, and then elbowed me as I snorted in suppressed laughter.

"You're happy," I said softly. "It's a wonderful change."

She flushed, smiled shyly, tucked her hair back behind an ear. "It was a hard time. It is better now. Now I have hope."

She leaned in briefly against me.

"So tell me about the custody stuff?"

"Not now. Maybe later," she said, quietly. "It is better but it is still not good. And this is my time with her. I do not want to think about that."

"Sorry."

"No. Do not be. It... it is just complicated."

We walked in silence for a while, then Ilse came running back towards us. She ducked, laughing, behind me, and a brief game of hide and seek began between her and Erika with me as the obstacle. I settled the war by grabbing Ilse as she scampered shrieking past and swung her up over my shoulder like a sack of wriggling potatoes. She squealed more, laughing shrilly. "Nein, nein!" she protested. "Mama, tell him to put me down!"

"He caught you, he can carry you," Erika said, smiling. I did my ogre-cackle at Ilse, and she shrieked with laughter. "Again! Again!"

"My niece loves that one," I said.

"I can see why."

Ilse wriggled and reorganised herself, and before I knew what was happening she was sitting on my shoulders, ordering me around like I was a horse.

"She likes you," Erika observed. She sounded pleased.

"It must be my inner child."

A kick of Ilse's heels set me into a canter.

.:.

"You exhausted her," Erika said, with a small smile.

We glanced over towards the bunk bed, where Ilse was curled up in a ball, arms wrapped around her unicorn, snoring like a pride of lions.

"My brother uses me as entertainment-on-demand, I'm sort of used to it."

"You have a lovely way with children. Ilse is very picky."

I smiled, sipped my tea, then leaned back into the chair. "I'm glad it's all coming together for you."

"For a long time I thought it would not," she said, staring down at the table. "It... the time after Joachim and I split... it was dark." She took a breath, sighed it out, clenching her hands around her own cup. "It was a bad time."

I made some supportive noise and she sighed again. "Losing Ilse was the worst part. Joachim has a good job, and his family is wealthy. So... it was easy for him to show the nice house, the toys, the nursery... all I could show was second hand clothes and an empty fridge."

"Well, you moved through that, and now you are on the way to getting joint custody... aren't you?"

"I hope so."

"You will," I said softly, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's so obvious how much you love her and how much she loves you. They have to see that."

"Hexen," she spat. "Sorry. It is unfair. I know they are doing their jobs... but..."

"Yeah, I understand what you mean."

"I have missed this so much," she said, after a while. "Being able to sit and talk to someone normal. Someone who cares."

"Don't you have friends you can talk to?"

"No," she said softly.

"Seriously?"

"Working nights kept me isolated."

"That's true I suppose. My friends are all 'mates' more than anything else, I guess. Good for a pub... not people I'd want to open up to too much."

"You opened up to me a bit," she said with a small smile.

"You were different. A night person like me. Now you're one of those filthy daywalkers. Dead to me," I added with a grin.

"Don't say that!" she said, suddenly serious. "You are important to me, and I do not want to lose that."

"It was a joke," I said softly, staring down at the pale hands she had clasped over mine.

She looked down as well, realised what she'd done, and pulled her hands back.

I coughed, she shifted in her chair. We sipped our tea.

"When are your exams?"

I put my mug down. "Soon. A month or so."

"Are you confident?"

"Quietly confident."

"Do you need a study partner?"

"That would be nice, but our schedules... I don't think they will coincide."

"Not even over weekends?"

"But what about Ilse?"

"She is asleep by eight, generally. And I am still trying to learn how to go to sleep before two in the morning. So... not every weekend obviously, but if you want my help I am happy to offer it."

She flushed slightly, looked away. "Look on it as me paying the interest on my debt to you," she said softly.

"No," I replied, as softly.

"No?"

"No. I'll look on it as the actions of a close friend."

"Oh. Ok then," she breathed. Then she smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"There is not much, I usually do my shopping after I drop Ilse off at her father's... but there is something."

"Right, lets see what you have then."

She stood, took my hand, and didn't let go as she led me to the small kitchenette.

.:.

She reached out, straightened my collar. "Are you going to be warm enough?"

"I'll be fine," I said. "This jacket is warmer than it looks, and it's not going to rain."

"Ok. Daniel..."

"Yes?"

She picked up an envelope from the table by the door. "Here. Here is the rest of the money I owe you."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you, Erika. But I didn't need it, you could have held onto it for a while."

"No. My salary is good now. I have enough and to spare. And I do not want this hanging between us."

"Well. I'm glad it helped you."

"You helped me. Not the money, you did. The money was just a tool."

She stood a moment, staring up at me. Then she stood up on her toes, kissed my cheek. "Thank you for being there for me."

"Give Ilse a hug from me, will you?"

"I need to go wake her soon or she will be a terror," she sighed. "But I will let her sleep a bit longer."

She reached out, touched my chest. "Have a safe trip home, Daniel. So... next Saturday?"

"I'll see you then."

"See you," she said. She leaned against her doorpost, watching me as I walked down the passage to the stairs. I turned once, waved. She waved back, smiling.

I caught the first bus, then the linker bus, then the bus that was nearly the bus that would take me home, then the penultimate bus, then my bus. I navigated almost on autopilot, up the stairs, through the front door, to the lounge, where I interrupted a fierce football debate amongst the flatmates long enough to secure a beer, some snacks, and space on one of our hand-me-down couches.

I watched whatever movie we were watching, but my thoughts were elsewhere - with the comfortable weight of a five year old on my shoulders and her mother's slender arm linked through mine.