Forget Me Not

.:.

It was Sunday evening, and the house were all present for our bi-monthly shit-talking session and catch-up as we waited for the the football to start. Frank the Yank was resplendent in his Chelsea shirt - the rest of us had decided to leave him to it and were in our usual weekend lurk-wear. I was flirting with my third beer when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I fumbled for it, squinted at the display.

- Are you busy? -

"Make a hole, guys, make a hole."

Joe and Pascal shifted over, and their catcalls followed me as I made an escape to the kitchen.

- Watching football and drinking, but not seriously. What's up? -

- Can I call you? I need a friendly voice -

I stared at my handset, then made for the stairs and my room, dialing her as I climbed.

I closed my door, slumped onto my bed.

"Erika? Hey. Everything ok?"

"Hi Daniel. I just dropped Ilse off with her father and... well, I just wanted to hear your voice. I am sorry for interrupting your rest."

"It's no interruption. What's up?"

"I am just... lonely. And you are the only person I have to talk to. Well... the only one who cares enough to listen."

I flopped backwards. "So is everything ok? Ilse ok going back to her dad?"

"Yes and no." A sigh. "She wanted to stay another night, it was hard to explain to her that she could not."

"Ugh. That can't have been fun."

"No. Five year olds do not do nuance well."

"Yeah. Everything they feel they want to share at one hundred percent."

"So... it has been an exhausting few hours. And now I have to summon the energy to cook food for myself and iron my clothing."

"So instead you're procrastinating," I guessed.

"Something like that. I..."

"Erika?"

"I wish you were here, is all." Another sigh. "This flat never used to echo the way it does now."

"If I didn't already have two and a half beers in me I'd make my way over there. But unfortunately if I try that now I will end up in Cardiff."

"Cardiff?"

"It's happened before."

She laughed. "How?"

"Way too much rum. Way, way too much rum. And friends with a warped sense of humour."

"Your friends put you on a train to Cardiff?"

"No, worse. A bus."

I heard her start to giggle, then to wheeze as she tried to catch her breath. "They put you on a bus. How?"

"They never said, but I suspect bribes were paid."

"You must have been so angry."

"Confused is more accurate. Nothing like climbing off a bus at six in the morning outside the city hall, hanging like a bear, and seeing a flag with a dragon on it to make things surreal."

"I can imagine," she said. Then she sighed. "You make me smile," she said after a while. "Ever since that first night, when you covered for me."

"You looked so tired and alone. Someone needed to look out for you."

"I'm glad it was you."

"So when do you have Ilse again?"

"Perhaps this weekend, but more likely next weekend. Joachim also needs to be involved in her life. Helena is insistent that he must be a father."

"Helena?"

"His... girlfriend. She... she keeps him in line and polite."

"Sounds like she has your back too."

"I hope so. It has been a long time since I felt like Ilse would ever be mine again."

"She will be. You'll see."

"Thank you again for what you did."

"You can stop thanking me. Seeing you happy was more than enough for me."

"Mm. Well. I am happy because of you."

"I'm just glad I could help.."

A silence.

"In some ways I wish I was still working nights," she said softly. "I miss our talks. I miss having you to share my day with."

"Me too. But things happen the way they're supposed to. You found proper work, and now you'll get your daughter back too."

"I hope so."

Another sigh.

"I have to go," she said. "I do not want to, but I have to try to use this time to reset my body clock. I need to make sure I stay popular at work."

"You'll be fine. You're young, smart, pretty, bright. They'd be silly to give you grief."

"You are good for my ego."

"Nah, it's the truth," I said, smiling. "You're definitely the best looking accountant I know."

Another soft laugh.

"Good night, Daniel. Thank you for... well, for everything."

"Chat later, Erika. Have a great evening."

"You too."

I lay on my back for a while, then leveraged myself out of bed. I slunk downstairs, and took up my spot on the couch.

It took me a few seconds to realise that my housemates were all watching me with amused expressions.

"What." I said, suspiciously.

"Who is the girl?" asked Pascal.

"What girl?"

"The girl. The girl you ran from football for."

On the other side of me, Joe twirled his ridiculous mustache. "Must be something special to interrupt LurkSoc."

I gave up, sighed. "Yeah. Something special."

"Is this the cleaner girl?" Joe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"You like her?"

"Yeah. A lot. But it's... complicated."

"She phoned you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then it is not complicated," Pascal observed, amused. "Now please be quiet, it is football time."

.:.

"Bill?"

"Yeah, Danny?"

"Can I get an evening off this week?"

"Sure," he said. "You're a good worker, lad. Can't remember last time you didn't show for a shift. How's Wednesday work for you?"

"Would be grand. Thanks Bill."

"I'll get Stavros to cover you, he's always happy to escape his missus and pick up overtime."

"I'll get you some of those pastries."

"Don't you dare," he begged. "The wife nearly shanked me for the second one when she'd got a taste of them."

I laughed, and then waved to him as he signed out and headed home.

I flumped down into the seat, and pulled out my phone. I paused a moment, fought down the nerves, and started the text message.

- Hi, Erika. I've got an evening off on Wednesday. I know it's a school night for you, but I thought I'd take you up on the offer of a study partner. Danny. -

And then I waited, watched the monitors, opened my calculus textbook.

My phone vibrated.

- Hi Daniel. I would love that. I will make us supper. Do you like roast? I am treating myself, but would love to share. -

- That would be amazing. I haven't had a roast dinner in ages. -

- Then I will work extra hard on it. -

- What should I bring? -

- Your books. Some wine if you want. Red if you like. Come at seven. I will leave early so everything is ready. -

- See you on Wednesday then. Goodnight, Erika -

- Have a safe shift and travel home safely. -

I smiled to myself, pulled my notepad to me, selected some relaxed trance music, and began my shift.

I worked hard for an hour so so, then took a coffee break. As I was filling the kettle, my phone beeped again.

- Coffee break? -

-That's uncanny. How did you know? -

- Lucky guess. Can I call you? -

I dialed her number. "Saving your fingers," I said as she answered, and she laughed.

"Hello, Daniel."

"Hello, Erika. Bored?"

"Bored and lonely. I needed a friendly voice before I head back to my book and try to fall asleep."

I glanced at the clock. "It's only 9:30. A bit early isn't it?"

"TV is boring, the Internet is boring. My book is less boring, and sleep means I don't have to be bored."

"And a hot bath and a nightcap?"

"Already tried that," she said. "It did not work."

"Well, at least you're home. I'm just getting started with the day."

"Yes, I remember what that was like. I do not miss it. I just miss you."

"Well, ditto."

"Do not misunderstand me. I love my job. But I got it because of your help. You are important to me, Daniel."

I leaned back into my chair. "Well, likewise, you know. I enjoyed spending time with you and Ilse. It was fun. It..."

"It what?"

I sighed. "It made me happy."

"Are you not happy, Daniel?"

"Content with my lot, mostly, up until now. Working towards something. Happy? No." I took a breath, exhaled. "Not now I've met you. Not now unless I'm around you."

"I am happy around you, also." A sigh. "I wish you were here."

"Ditto."

"We could make popcorn, watch a movie. Talk of nothing like we used to."

"That would be a nice way to spend my evening. Far nicer than Calculus."

"I did well at Calculus. I will help you. I will just need to refresh my memory a little."

"If you make sure I pass this course, I'll take you and Ilse out for lunch."

She laughed softly. "I will take you up on that offer."

I closed my eyes, listened to the silence for a moment or two.

"Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Just checking you were still there."

"Yes, I am."

"I feel much less alone when I am talking to you. I... like how that makes me feel."

"How does it make you feel?"

"Safe," she said softly. "Like... like everything is going to be ok, somehow."

"It's my aura of calm. It fools lots of people," I said, fishing for another laugh from her.

She obliged, a warm, low chuckle that made me smile.

"So what are you doing right now?"

"Staring a a page full of scary differential equations."

"I am curled up on Ilse's bunk. I have the radio on, but not very loud. Just enough to warm the room. I wish this flat had dimmers, but it does not, so I've just got one lamp turned on in the corner. Maybe next month I can buy some of those fancy colour changing lights. Ilse would love them."

"It sounds nice. Far nicer than here."

"It is, I think. I have a fluffy blanket."

"Yes, ok, you win."

"I like winning," she purred. "It is rare but enjoyable."

"You've been doing a lot of it recently."

"Beginner's luck."

"So how long does it usually take you to fall asleep?"

"It can depend. Some nights minutes, some nights hours. Tonight is an hours one, I think."

"I'd gladly spend the hours talking to you."

"The problem, Daniel," she said softly, "is that talking to you does not make me sleepy."

"What?"

"Dreamy? Yes. Warm? Yes. Sleepy? No."

"Maybe you should look up some course notes online. That will knock you right out," I said, glancing down at my textbook. I made a face. "I am really not in the mood for this stuff tonight."

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Popcorn and movies and breakfast at a normal time of the day."

"Touché." She made a sound, somewhere between a yawn and a groan. "Well. I will say goodnight to you now, Daniel. You need to focus on your work. Then your dream of normal breakfasts will come to you."

"Goodnight, Erika. Sleep well when you do."

"See you Wednesday, Daniel. Don't forget."

"I won't. Auf wiedersehen, Erika."

"Tschüss, Daniel. Between us, it is tschüss. Be safe and sleep well when you do."

She hung up, and I leaned back into my chair, wishing I were with her.

.:.

I took a breath, then knocked. I shifted from foot to foot, glanced around the dingy corridor, at the faded and peeling paint.

The door opened, and Erika smiled up at me. "Daniel. Hello, you."

"Hello, Erika. I brought my books and the wine like you suggested." I sniffed. "Is that the roast?"

"Yes."

"It smells amazing."

"Come in," she said, stepping aside. "Here, I will take your coat for you."

"Thank you."

She closed the door behind us, and I took a moment to admire the transformation the few short months had worked for her. Her white cotton blouse clung to her, the open collar accentuating the elegance of her neck. Her hair had grown out and she'd bound it up into a tasteful bun with an enameled hair stick. Small silver earrings - flowers of some sort - studded her earlobes. They suited her, and reminded me that she was a scant year older than I was.

She glanced back over her shoulder at me, still smiling. "It is so nice to have you here." She turned, stepped forward and hugged me hard. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting me," I answered awkwardly, returning the hug, savouring the moment. "I just hope you don't regret your offer when the textbook comes out."

"The wine will guard against that," she answered, amused. "Come. The roast is in the oven, we have a little time."

She accepted the bottle of wine, dug into a drawer, rescued a waiter's friend and handed me the bottle. "My wrist is weak," she explained. "I broke it in my teens. I usually buy screw top bottles because I cannot get corks out most of the time. Not that I have been drinking much recently... but it is still nice to be able to have a glass sometimes."

"I don't drink much wine myself," I replied. "It's an indulgence. Pascal - one of my housemates - works for a distributor so we get beer and cider at very good prices which is what we tend to stick to."

"How many housemates do you have?"

"Three. A yank, Pascal who's a Frenchie and another Brit."

"I sometimes wonder if I should move into a house share. But then I think of Ilse and that desire vanishes. I would not want the additional complications."

I levered the cork out of the bottle. "Voila".

Erika passed me two glasses, and I poured us both half a glass of wine. She accepted hers and took a sip, smiling over the lip of glass as she did so.

"It is different without Ilse here," she said. "It is... quiet. Relaxed."

"It's relaxed with her here too. A relaxed state of anarchy."

She snorted, coughed on her wine, turned away to regain some poise. "Yes," she answered, after a moment. "That is true."

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"We have a little time, then I need to defrost the peas. Everything else should be cooked in twenty minutes or so. So we can just talk... if you like?"

I leaned back against the counter. "That would be nice."

And then we stood in silence a few moments, until I laughed. "This is ridiculous. What happened to us?"

"A change of circumstances?" she suggested, softly. "It has... driven a wedge?"

"I don't think so." I sipped my wine, swirled it in the glass. "Just... you're a power-dressed office worker now, and I'm just a security guard..."

"No! You are far more than that," she exclaimed. "Far, far more than that!"

She stepped closer, reached out, rested a hand on my forearm.

I swallowed.

"You smell really nice," I said, without thinking.

She flushed, looked down and away. "Givenchy. I treated myself. It was my three month anniversary at work. I passed my probation and they gave me a raise."

"Congratulations. Erika, that's awesome. I'm so happy for you."

"They want me to recruit a junior to work under me so that I can get more involved in the strategy of the company. Daniel. You did this for me."

She put down her wineglass and stepped forward to me. She wrapped her arms around me, and pulled me hard against her as she tucked her face under my chin. "I know I say this a lot, but thank you."

I wrapped my arm around her, buried my face in her hair, and sighed out the breath I'd been holding.

And then I just held her, luxuriating in the scent of her, in the way her body melded in against mine, in the way I could feel each breath she took, and in the small, almost inaudible sound she made as she burrowed in closer to me.

It was some time before, regretfully, she let me go. She gave me a small, private smile. "You give good hugs," she added, as she picked up her wineglass and took a sip.

"So do you."

"Mm." She leaned against me. "Tell me if you need me to move."

"I don't."

"Good," she sighed. "I... I had forgotten what this was like."

"What what was like?"

"Being around someone kind."

"Your ex was..."

"Not kind," she said, curtly. She looked up at me, then away. "Sorry. That is a red button. Do not press it."

"Sorry."

She rested her head against me. "No, I am sorry. It puts me into bitch mode. And I do not want to be a bitch around you."

"I would never have classified you as one. To me, you're someone who is fighting tooth and nail to build a future for yourself and your little girl. Bitch isn't even in the dictionary. The word I'd use is awesome. You're awesome. Ilse is lucky to have a mum like you."

"And I am lucky to have you," she whispered.

The oven alarm chose that moment to beep. Erika sighed, shot me a glance I couldn't interpret, and then moved away to check it. "Fifteen minutes," she said. "I will get the peas on. It is not going to be a very complicated supper. I hope that is okay."

"It is fantastic. I don't care. You're doing me an enormous favour by cooking for me, and I want to make sure you understand how much I appreciate it."

She glanced back at me. "Bitte schön, Daniel."

.:.

I'd done the dishes and cleaned up as my contribution to the evening, to the accompaniment of Erika's amused commentary and protests. "You had enough cleaning up to do after other people," I'd told her shortly. "Sit your arse down, woman, and let me clean for you."

She'd snorted at me but backed off, and kept her commentary to a minimum as she sipped her wine and watched me.

And now we sat, side by side at her table, as she answered my questions and showed me the tricks she remembered from her University courses.

I struggled desperately to concentrate. Half a bottle of red and a good supper vied with the heady scent of her. I was acutely aware of each breath she took, of the faint nebula of freckles dotting her cheeks. Of the fine curls of hair that lapped like waves against the backs of her ears. And of the way she'd nonchalantly touch her leg to mine every so often, as if to check I was still there...

"This is murder," she said after a while. "We should have done this first."

"Yes," I agreed. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be." She leaned back, stretched her arms up and behind her. "Also these chairs are not comfortable."

I tore my gaze away from her, flushing. Her movements had pulled her shirt tightly over her body, leaving its sculpted contours painfully obvious.

She was beautiful. Breathtaking in every sense of the word, from the warmth in her eyes to the easy languid grace with which she held her pen.

And I realised that I loved her.

I tried to bury that kernel of knowledge deep, tried to keep my voice light.

"They're good enough. I can carry on."

"I can not," she said. "I need a break, and some coffee."

She stood, stepped over counter, and turned on the kettle. Then she pulled her hair free of its bun and shook it out. She stretched her arms above her head again, then dropped forward from the waist to touch her toes. She held her pose for a moment, for two, then straightened, smiling. "Better," she said. "I stiffen up if I sit too long."

"I should start doing that," I said. "My back starts to ache."

"Bad posture," she replied. "You hunch forward too much. You should sit up straight, chest out. Yes, like that," she added, grinning at me as I complied.

"I know, I know."

"Coffee?"

"Please."

She made me a mug, then brought it back over to the table. She pulled out her chair, turned it to face me, and sat, cross-legged, sipping her cup and staring into the distance, unfocussed. I watched her as she breathed in, breathed out.

Then she shook her head slightly. "Sorry," she said. "Memories. They take me sometimes."

"You've had a hard time."

"Just the last two years. Before that... it was easy. I... suppose this has been a way to really learn to appreciate what I had. What I have."

"You'll have it again."

"Will I?"

"I'm sure of it."

"I am not sure I even want it any more," she said softly. "I was rich, Daniel. Really rich. I used to have a horse. But looking back... it all seems unnecessary now. Gratuitous. All I want now is a home of my own, that I earned myself, with enough space for me and my daughter. And maybe for whoever I am lucky enough to meet," she added, almost as an afterthought. She looked up at me through her fringe. "I like having you to talk to again."

"Ditto," I said softly.

"I wish I had a couch. But it would not really fit in this flat."

"A couch?"

"To watch movies or series on. Mostly I just pull a mattress onto the floor, lie on it, fall asleep. The bunk-bed is a bit too much of an effort unless Ilse is here."