The Stranglers Honeymoon

26

For some reason Thursdays were always the worst. Ester Peerenkaas had often thought that many times before, and this Thursday — 7 December in the Year of Grace 2000 — was no exception. It was as if all the tasks that had been put on one side during the week had reached maturity and cried out to be dealt with at the same time on Thursday afternoon, otherwise they would probably be left until the following week. Friday was always Friday after all, and you couldn’t count on anything serious being done on a Friday: too much time was spent drinking coffee, and planning and discussing possible or impossible activities lined up for the weekend.

Ester was conscientious and understood how important it was to do her duty and thereby gain respect — the respect of her colleagues, despite the fact that she was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Or perhaps especially for that reason. It was by means of hard and single-minded work that she hoped eventually to be promoted to chief financial officer of the whole hospital — when Svendsen retired in six or seven years’ time — and that was why she stayed at her desk making calculations and forecasts until six o’clock that windy and freezing cold evening. Only two weeks left to the Christmas holidays and a trip to Fuerteventura, so reward was beckoning in the shorter term as well.

She did what little shopping she needed to do at Laager’s in Grote Torg, and got back to her flat in Meijkstraat at a quarter to seven. She had a shower, made an omelette and listened to her telephone messages on the answering machine before flopping down on the sofa in front of the television, thinking that she had no intention of moving a limb until it was time to stagger to bed at about eleven o’clock, and enjoy a well-deserved night’s sleep.

She zapped around the channels for a while before sticking with Channel Five, where a discussion was taking place on the roles of men and women in the new century, to be followed by a crime programme at nine o’clock. Entertainment with a gesture in the direction of a social conscience, she thought as she adjusted the cushions under the small of her back and sipped away at the weak gin and tonic she generally allowed herself after a hard day at the office.

When the telephone rang it was twenty past nine, and the crime programme was well into its stride.

At first she couldn’t hear who the caller was, but after a few confusing seconds she realized that it was Anna. Anna Kristeva.

‘You sound odd,’ she said.

‘I am odd,’ said Anna. ‘What are you doing? Am I interrupting anything?’

‘No. I’m just watching the telly. . It’s about some loony who strangles women and pushes priests under trains. No, you’re not interrupting anything. What do you want?’

‘I’m ill,’ said Anna. ‘It’s a damned nuisance, but I can scarcely stand.’

‘I can hear it’s bad,’ said Ester. ‘There’s a lot of flu about.’

‘Yes, that’s what I’m told I’ve got,’ said Anna, coughing feebly. ‘Three or four days in bed, and I’ll feel fine after a week, according to my doctor. . But just now I find it hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thirty-nine degrees when I took my temperature an hour ago. . Huh.’

‘Poor you,’ said Ester. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need any shopping doing?’

‘No, no,’ Anna assured her, ‘all the practicalities are taken care of. My neighbour — you know, that engineer who has a soft spot for me, he looks after all that. But there is one thing. .’

‘Really?’ said Ester. ‘Fire away.’

‘My wild card.’

‘Eh?’

‘My wild card. The bloke I’m supposed to meet.’

‘What about him?’

Anna coughed a few times again.

‘I can’t very well turn up in this state.’

‘Ah! I see,’ said Ester. ‘When were you supposed to meet him?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Don’t you remember? Keefer’s with T. S. Eliot, and that other business. .’

‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Ester. ‘Red tie and red Eliot. Forgive me, I’m a bit on the dozy side today as well. . Not that I’m ill, mind. It’s just that I had to work overtime, there was so much that couldn’t simply be left unattended to. So you’ll have to put him off, is that it?’

‘How?’ said Anna.

‘What do you mean, how?’

‘What am I supposed to do in order to put him off?’

‘Well, I suppose. .’

The penny dropped.

‘Oh yes, I see what you mean. You don’t have his phone number, do you?’

‘Nor his address, nor even his name, nothing at all. And I think it would be a shame to miss him. Not after we’ve completed the elimination process and all that. . Are you with me?’

‘Yes, I’m with you,’ said Ester. ‘But I don’t see what you can do about it. Three or four days in bed means three or four days in bed. You can’t just stagger into the restaurant in your state and go looking for Eliot.’

‘Exactly,’ said Anna, taking a deep, wheezy breath. ‘That’s precisely what I’m coming round to. That’s why I’m ringing.’

‘Really?’

‘I thought you might be able to help me.’

‘Of course. What do you want me to do?’

‘Go there.’

‘Where?’

‘To Keefer’s, tomorrow evening. That’s where he’s supposed to be going.’

‘Oh yes?’ said Ester, then sat in silence for a few moments. ‘And what the hell do you want me to do?’

‘That’s up to you. You could simply pass on greetings from me and tell him that unfortunately I’m indisposed. Ask him his name, and whether he can suggest an alternative date. It doesn’t need to be Big Deal.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Ester. ‘I could just call in and pass on a message — no problem. But. . Oh no! I’ve just remembered, I promised Karen I’d go to the cinema with her tomorrow evening.’

‘Who’s Karen?’

‘A colleague of mine. We’re going to the Canaries after Christmas. Shit, shit, shit! What do we do now, then?’

Anna sighed.

‘Do whatever you like,’ she said. ‘I just think it would be silly to miss the opportunity. But if you don’t have time, you don’t have time. Can’t be helped. How are things with your pilot?’

Ester thought it over while gaping at the television screen: two police officers, one in a blue suit, the other in a crumpled tunic shirt and a yellow scarf, were sitting there, talking to the presenter.

‘I don’t know yet,’ she said. ‘He’s out flying, but we have spoken on the telephone. I’m going to meet him next weekend.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Anna.

‘Yes, he sounded rather charming. But it’s going to be hard for me to fit Keefer’s in, I’m afraid. Can’t you think of some other way of solving the problem?’

Anna seemed to be thinking that over. She was drinking something as well: Ester could hear her swallowing with considerable difficulty.

‘I can’t think of anything else. Maybe we should just leave him to stew.’

Ester thought for a moment.

‘I’ll go and see him if I can fit it in,’ she said. ‘We haven’t yet fixed a time for our cinema jaunt, Karen and me. If I have time, I’ll call in. Okay? But I’m not promising anything.’

‘All right,’ said Anna. ‘Let’s leave it at that. No, I really must go to bed now — I haven’t the strength to carry on talking any longer. Give me a bell and let me know what happened — tomorrow, perhaps? By the way. .’

‘Well?’

‘If you do go there and discover that he looks awful, just turn round and leave the premises.’

She coughed again. Ester laughed.

‘You bet I will!’ she said. ‘There must be a reason why he refuses to send you a photo.’

‘I expect so,’ said Anna. ‘But you never know.’

She hung up. Ester remained seated on the sofa for a while, thinking. She felt for the remote control — the bit about the strangler had come to an end, and they were now discussing the drugs situation in big cities versus small towns and rural areas instead. She switched off. She finished off her gin and tonic, and decided that it was time to go to bed, even though it was nowhere near eleven o’clock yet.

No, she thought. Red tie and red Eliot? I don’t fancy that at all.

Karen deBuijk called in at her office on Friday morning, and in only a few minutes they drew up plans for that evening. It wasn’t all that complicated.

First a drink at Ester’s at about seven o’clock, and perusal of what was on in the various cinemas. Then a film — probably at Cinetec or Plus 8, which had eighteen auditoriums between them. Then a bite to eat and a drink somewhere — and then they would see what was on offer after that. No point in cramping their style in advance, as it were.

She had finished her weekly reports by soon after four o’clock. She left the administration block of the hospital and drove out to Merckx in order to do some well-organized shopping for a change. It took her an hour, and lowered her irritation threshold very considerably. But that’s life, she decided when she was finally able to clamber into her Peugeot in the gigantic parking area outside the shopping centre. I’m not made for supermarkets, and will just have to accept the fact.

Were any human beings made for supermarkets?

She switched on the car radio as she drove towards the town centre. A brief weather forecast informed her that it was plus two degrees, raining, and would continue to rain for the foreseeable future; and that a westerly wind was blowing at about ten metres per second.

She thought about Anna, and it occurred to her that if you wanted to catch flu, Maardam at this time of year was the ideal place to be.

Just how true this was became clear to her when Karen rang at a quarter to seven, and sounded as if she had lost three litres of blood and ended up under a refrigerator.

‘I’m ill,’ she groaned. ‘Can’t make it.’

‘You as well?’ said Ester.

‘As well?’ said Karen,

‘Huh, another friend of mine gave up the ghost yesterday. As it were. It’s on the rampage, this flu epidemic.’

‘It certainly is,’ said Karen, breathing heavily. ‘I could barely manage to walk up the stairs when I got home from work. It’s amazing how quickly it hits you. . I’m sorry.’

‘No problem,’ said Ester. ‘Go to bed. We can go to the pictures some other time.’

‘Too right,’ gasped Karen, and replaced the receiver.

Or dropped it, according to what it sounded like.

Now what? Ester Peerenkaas thought. What do I do now? All alone on a Friday evening, in the prime of life.

She checked her watch, and it dawned on her that she would have plenty of time to wander down to Keefer’s restaurant.