and gloomy. He reassures her, tells her that what the woman said was nonsense, she was an impressive liar but it was just the talk of a mentally ill woman. Massimo tells her it was all lies. He remembers Dunya very well, he says, and the director of the psychiatric hospital diagnosed her as deluded. Dunya was under the influence of drugs, and ran away from the hospital although everyone wanted to help her. Mark, Massimo, and many others.
Blum listens. Her mouth stays shut; she keeps everything she was going to say to herself. She is speechless, just looks at Massimo and hears the things he says. About Mark and about Dunya. Blum’s view of the world suddenly looks different again. What she believed, it seems, was nothing but lies. It was only Mark who insisted on believing that the woman was telling the truth. At the time, he advised Mark to drop his investigations and attend to more important things, but Mark wouldn’t listen. He was drilling for oil where there wasn’t any oil. It was just another attempt to rescue a pretty young woman on a boat. A pretty young woman in a bed, in the psychiatric hospital. Dunya.
Blum says nothing. What Dunya told her, what she was convinced of ten minutes earlier, no longer matters. There is only one thought in her head, and it calls out loud. Why did Mark meet Dunya when everyone advised him against it? Why is there that regret on Massimo’s face? What does he know? What did Mark do? Blum is afraid everything will fall apart, that Mark will hurt her. She takes Massimo’s hand and asks him to tell her the truth, sparing nothing. She wants him to tell her whether Mark was in a relationship with Dunya. But Massimo says nothing, only that Mark was his friend. He is evasive. He won’t say whether Mark was unfaithful to her, whether he was risking their life together. He asks Blum to forget the whole thing, dismiss the recordings as the fantasies of a lost soul and think no more of them. He asks her not to doubt Mark, not for a second.
Blum gets up and goes, goes without saying goodbye. Through the door and out into the street; she needs fresh air, she wants to understand what has just happened. She walks on, putting one foot in front of another, leaving the motorbike behind. Air. Walk on and on. Mark is tearing her heart apart again, the noise becomes unbearably loud, the hurt throbs. Every memory she has of Mark is threatened by what Massimo has said. And by what he hasn’t said. She doesn’t want to, but she pictures Mark and Dunya in a hotel room. After the fourth meeting they couldn’t help themselves, they were in love. That notion, which was there from the beginning, burrowing through her body like a worm, is back. He isn’t here, can’t justify himself, can’t take her in his arms and tell her to wake up. And stop dreaming.
Blum hasn’t shed tears for days, she has felt close to Mark again because she was doing what he had done. She was trying to follow the same trail as him: they had the same end in view, the same instinct. That Dunya was more than a homeless drug addict. That every word she said was the brutal truth. He had believed that and so had Blum. She still does, even if jealousy cripples her and almost takes away her breath. The idea that her memories might be tainted drives Blum down the street. She must calm down, she must think clearly. Stop doubting Mark. Stop doubting Dunya. Everything happened as she said it did. She believes this woman. She believes in Mark. He met her because he wanted to help her and for no other reason. Never mind what Massimo says. Never mind how impossible it all sounds. Never mind if she is the only person in the country convinced that the cellar and those men exist. Blum has seen the truth in Dunya’s eyes. She will take a deep breath, go back to her motorbike and ride it home. She will hug the children and look up that photographer’s number. She will find proof of Dunya’s story. She will convince Massimo with facts that show
Blum listens. Her mouth stays shut; she keeps everything she was going to say to herself. She is speechless, just looks at Massimo and hears the things he says. About Mark and about Dunya. Blum’s view of the world suddenly looks different again. What she believed, it seems, was nothing but lies. It was only Mark who insisted on believing that the woman was telling the truth. At the time, he advised Mark to drop his investigations and attend to more important things, but Mark wouldn’t listen. He was drilling for oil where there wasn’t any oil. It was just another attempt to rescue a pretty young woman on a boat. A pretty young woman in a bed, in the psychiatric hospital. Dunya.
Blum says nothing. What Dunya told her, what she was convinced of ten minutes earlier, no longer matters. There is only one thought in her head, and it calls out loud. Why did Mark meet Dunya when everyone advised him against it? Why is there that regret on Massimo’s face? What does he know? What did Mark do? Blum is afraid everything will fall apart, that Mark will hurt her. She takes Massimo’s hand and asks him to tell her the truth, sparing nothing. She wants him to tell her whether Mark was in a relationship with Dunya. But Massimo says nothing, only that Mark was his friend. He is evasive. He won’t say whether Mark was unfaithful to her, whether he was risking their life together. He asks Blum to forget the whole thing, dismiss the recordings as the fantasies of a lost soul and think no more of them. He asks her not to doubt Mark, not for a second.
Blum gets up and goes, goes without saying goodbye. Through the door and out into the street; she needs fresh air, she wants to understand what has just happened. She walks on, putting one foot in front of another, leaving the motorbike behind. Air. Walk on and on. Mark is tearing her heart apart again, the noise becomes unbearably loud, the hurt throbs. Every memory she has of Mark is threatened by what Massimo has said. And by what he hasn’t said. She doesn’t want to, but she pictures Mark and Dunya in a hotel room. After the fourth meeting they couldn’t help themselves, they were in love. That notion, which was there from the beginning, burrowing through her body like a worm, is back. He isn’t here, can’t justify himself, can’t take her in his arms and tell her to wake up. And stop dreaming.
Blum hasn’t shed tears for days, she has felt close to Mark again because she was doing what he had done. She was trying to follow the same trail as him: they had the same end in view, the same instinct. That Dunya was more than a homeless drug addict. That every word she said was the brutal truth. He had believed that and so had Blum. She still does, even if jealousy cripples her and almost takes away her breath. The idea that her memories might be tainted drives Blum down the street. She must calm down, she must think clearly. Stop doubting Mark. Stop doubting Dunya. Everything happened as she said it did. She believes this woman. She believes in Mark. He met her because he wanted to help her and for no other reason. Never mind what Massimo says. Never mind how impossible it all sounds. Never mind if she is the only person in the country convinced that the cellar and those men exist. Blum has seen the truth in Dunya’s eyes. She will take a deep breath, go back to her motorbike and ride it home. She will hug the children and look up that photographer’s number. She will find proof of Dunya’s story. She will convince Massimo with facts that show
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