Shadow Sister

by Simone Vlugt

  I follow him with my eyes as he gets out a bottle of whisky.

  ‘You too?’ he offers.

  I shake my head and continue to stare at him with furious eyes.

  ‘We did have a relationship,’ Raoul says, ‘but it’s been over for a long time. How did you find out about it?’

  ‘I’ve seen photos.’ I think about the intimate pictures, the love letters, the restaurant visiting cards, and the grief I felt when I first saw them rises up in me again.

  ‘Photos?’

  ‘Sylvie kept a scrapbook,’ I say. ‘Full of pictures of the two of you. And every note you ever scribbled to her. Restaurant and hotel receipts and cards.’ Some of my pain must be visible because when our eyes meet I see it reflected in Raoul’s.

  ‘Oh, Elisa…’ he says. ‘I so hoped you’d never find out.’

  55.

  I look at the familiar face opposite me, the face of a man I’ve loved so much – who I still love, in spite of everything. ‘Yes, I can imagine,’ I say.

  Raoul takes a large sip of whisky. ‘I don’t mean that I would have preferred to keep the lie going, but sometimes you do stupid things you can’t undo afterwards,’ he admits. ‘Sylvie was such idiocy. A mistake, a slip up. I wanted to leave it at the one blunder, but she carried on playing up to me. She didn’t care that I was married and had a child. She said that she didn’t expect anything and continued to offer herself to me. I should have kept my distance, but I’ll admit it, I was weak. She’s so pretty. I’ve never seen such an attractive woman.’ Raoul shrugs. ‘I know it’s a cliché, I don’t think that you will be able to understand it, but I couldn’t resist her.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘A few months,’ Raoul says. ‘In the beginning I couldn’t get enough of her, but after a while something changed. It became obvious that we didn’t have anything to talk about. I’d take her out for dinner, a long way from Rotterdam, and she’d show me how long her fingernails were, or she’d tell me every little thing she’d read about celebrities in her magazines. We didn’t have much in common.’ Raoul looks at me. We can talk, that glance says, we’re on the same wavelength, what we have is much deeper.

  ‘Was that what you were looking for in Sylvie? A good conversation?’

  Raoul gives me an embarrassed smile and takes another sip of whisky. ‘Not at first, of course, but I did find it important later. Please believe me, I really regretted it. Particularly when Lydia sensed that something was up, that I was having an affair.’

  Raoul swirls the contents of his glass around and gives me a look that makes words unnecessary. I feel a shiver run through my body, but I can’t say which emotion has brought it on. I stand in front of the dresser and Raoul comes towards me. I look into his dark handsome face, feel his warm fingers on my cold skin, experience the consoling caress of his thumbs. I take a deep breath, this is just his thumbs.

  Nevertheless, I take a step back. ‘You should have worked at your marriage, Lydia deserved that.’

  Raoul’s eyes travel over to his silver-framed wedding photo. ‘I know I’ve disappointed you, but my affair with Sylvie doesn’t mean anything. My feelings for Lydia and for you have always been sincere. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, I didn’t want to cause you any pain, I didn’t want to tell you how crazy I was about you, because I didn’t have anything to offer. I would never have done that to Lydia. It would have destroyed your bond.’

  ‘How noble of you,’ I say. ‘You know what, Raoul, I feel like I’m only getting to know you properly now. And do you know what I’m seeing? A bastard.’

  The words hit home. Raoul blanches, but I’m not sorry for what I’ve said.

  ‘I was always straight with Sylvie. I told her many times that I was never going to leave Lydia.’

  ‘That’s far from how she saw it. She’s convinced that you’re going to carry things on with her.’

  Raoul sighs and empties his glass. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything?’ he asks.

  ‘Coffee,’ I snap. ‘And you’d better have one yourself too.’

  Raoul nods and I follow him to the kitchen.

  ‘Sylvie believed what she wanted to believe,’ Raoul says as he prepares it. ‘I never promised her anything, certainly not once I got to know her better.’

  The coffee machine buzzes to life and the cups fill up. Raoul passes one to me and we sit down at the kitchen table.

  ‘When I ended it, Sylvie flipped out,’ Raoul tells me. ‘She threatened me, stalked me. She called late at night, sent desperate emails, waited for me all over the place. It got worse after Lydia’s death. She was convinced that I’d want to be with her then. Finally I talked to her a couple of times to try to get it into her head that my feelings had changed, but she wasn’t having any of it. She kept on saying that she understood that I needed time and that she’d wait for me. The worst thing was that I could hardly avoid her because she’s your friend. She still doesn’t understand that there isn’t a hope in hell we’ll get back together.’

  ‘Have you talked to Sylvie recently?’

  Raoul nods. ‘She kept on bothering me. I decided to have another talk with her and make it clear that this must stop.’

  ‘So she murdered Lydia pointlessly,’ I say.

  Raoul looks at me with astonishment. ‘I don’t believe Sylvie would go that far.’

  ‘I do. Do you remember when Noorda asked if we knew someone called Hubert Ykema?’

  ‘Yeah, that policeman whose gun was stolen. What’s that got to do with Sylvie?’

  ‘Hubert Ykema is her mother’s husband. He came into Sylvie’s life when she was thirteen.’

  Raoul runs his hand through his hair in amazement. ‘Are you sure? But…but that doesn’t mean that Sylvie shot Lydia, does it?’

  ‘I’m afraid it does. I’ve already been to the police and handed in the gun. They drove straight to her house to take her in for questioning.’

  Raoul looks worse by the minute. My heart burns with sympathy, but I can’t express it. I’m struggling enough with my feelings for him. How can you ever recover from the realisation that you’re responsible for your wife’s death?

  ‘That bitch,’ he hisses. ‘I’ll kill her!’

  Then he covers his eyes with his hands and makes a strangled noise. I look at him, but I can’t bring myself to comfort him.

  Sylvie’s gone, Noorda tells us when he calls. But his team are trying to track her down.

  After he’s hung up, Raoul and I look at each other.

  ‘She’s on the run,’ Raoul says.

  I nod. ‘Is there any better proof of guilt? She knows she hasn’t got a leg to stand on.’

  ‘Noorda wants to talk to me tomorrow morning. He didn’t sound too friendly.’

  We are standing very close to each other, but there’s no tension. We’re both too overwhelmed by what’s been revealed for that.

  ‘It’s late,’ Raoul says. ‘Will you stay over?’

  I nod. ‘In the guest room.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  My anger about Raoul’s infidelity has lessened a little. I’m not furious anymore, but I’m still shocked and disappointed. I’m angry with myself for having idealised Raoul all these years. I’ve compared so many men to him, there were so many relationships I didn’t give a chance…And why? Because deep in my heart I hoped that one day my sister and brother-in-law’s marriage would come to an end? Did I put my love-life on hold all this time for that?

  As I get into bed, I hear Valerie crying in the next room. Raoul is taking a shower, so I go to her.

  ‘Elisa,’ she says in a tiny voice.

  I sit down on the edge of her bed. Her Barbie duvet is pulled up to her chin and her blonde hair fans out over the pillow.

  ‘What is it, sweetheart?’ I ask.

  ‘Is Mummy really never coming back?’ she whispers.

  ‘Oh, darling…Are you still waiting for Mummy?’

  Valerie nods without taking her brown eyes off me. ‘But M
ummy is dead, right?’

  I nod. ‘Yes, sweetie, but Mummy hasn’t gone completely. She’s still with you. You can’t touch her or talk to her, but she’s here.’

  ‘I know,’ Valerie says. ‘She’s here now too, isn’t she? There, next to my doll’s house.’

  I glance at the doll’s house, then study my niece.

  ‘Mummy talks to me all the time,’ Valerie says. ‘I tell her everything I’ve done and she listens. She talks back, too.’

  ‘What does she say?’

  Valerie hugs her teddy bear to her chest. ‘She says that you are going to look after me and Daddy.’

  56.

  ‘Will you come with me to the police station? I’d rather not leave you alone,’ Raoul says when he appears at breakfast the following morning. He straightens his tie and sits down at the table.

  I spread butter on a rusk, put a couple of cheese slices on top and look at him. ‘Because of Sylvie?’

  ‘I’m not comfortable knowing she’s somewhere around.’ Raoul nods at the street. ‘I can’t imagine that she’s very far away.’

  ‘You don’t think so? I think she’s long gone from Rotterdam.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Raoul says. He pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a slice of brown bread.

  I shrug. ‘You don’t have to babysit me, you know. Do you really think Sylvie would come after me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Raoul says.

  That frightens me. Raoul notices and lays his hand on mine. ‘If she’s still hanging around the place, she’ll have seen that you stayed the night. Perhaps she can see us now, at this very minute, having breakfast together and she’s drawn her own conclusions. Believe me, Elisa, she’s been stalking me for weeks. Anywhere I went, she’d turn up. I’m afraid she won’t accept that there’s nothing going on between us.’

  ‘There isn’t anything going on between us,’ I point out.

  ‘But she doesn’t know that.’

  ‘I don’t want to come, Raoul. I’m going to my studio, I’m really busy.’

  ‘Then lock your door. And don’t let anyone in, not even customers.’

  I don’t want to keep the studio closed now that it’s starting to go well again, but I nod in agreement.

  We have a leisurely breakfast, Raoul reading his newspaper, me chatting with Valerie. We’re just like any normal Dutch family with two working parents getting ready for the day ahead. After we’ve finished and tidied up, we get our coats. Raoul puts a box of apple juice and a slice of gingerbread into Valerie’s rucksack.

  We leave the house and drive Valerie to school. I catch myself looking for Sylvie on the way, but I don’t see her anywhere. Once Valerie is in her classroom, we drive to the Essenburg Canal to pick up my bike, which is still outside Sylvie’s front door. Raoul drops me and my bike off at the studio.

  ‘Don’t get out just yet,’ he says, as I go to open the door.

  He gets out, lifts my bike from the boot and sets it down. He looks around and then nods at me. His suspicion is contagious. I also look around when I get out and take my bike from him.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  ‘When I’ve finished with Noorda, I’ll come straight to you.’

  A warm feeling spreads through my belly and I suppress the temptation to kiss him. Instead I think about Sylvie’s scrapbook and wheel my bike to the door.

  ‘Elisa?’

  I look around to see what he wants, wary of the gentle tone in his voice. He comes towards me with fast steps, bends down and his lips brush my own. Then he’s gone.

  I let the tension drain out of my body in a deep sigh, lock the studio door behind me. I have so much work to do.

  The telephone rings at eleven o’clock. I pick up and answer absentmindedly. ‘Elisa van Woerkom.’ Only then does it occur to me that it could be Sylvie. I go to hang up in panic, but at the same instant I realise that it’s too late for that. But it’s not Sylvie.

  ‘Elisa.’ It’s Raoul. ‘Valerie has gone missing.’

  ‘What? What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve just had a call from the school to say that Valerie isn’t in the playground anymore. The infants had a break at quarter past ten, Valerie played with a go-cart for a bit, but when the children went back in she wasn’t with them.’

  The panic in Raoul’s voice transfers to me. I hold the phone with one hand and start putting on my jacket with the other.

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘On my way to the school.’

  ‘I’m coming.’ I hang up, work my other arm into the jacket, grab my bag and dash to my bike out back. I run with it through the kitchen, through the studio, outside. Precious seconds are wasted shutting the door, doing up my jacket, but then I’m on the saddle and pedalling as fast as I can to Valerie’s school. It’s not far, but the streets seem to stretch out in front of me.

  I arrive panting at the playground where Raoul is waiting for me in the doorway of the school building.

  ‘Where are the police?’ I ask, as I get off my bike and lock it.

  ‘They went straight to Sylvie’s house,’ Raoul says. He grabs my arm and pulls me to the car.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ I ask, as he drags me along like a small child.

  ‘Look for her, of course.’

  Raoul tugs open the door and gets behind the wheel. I run to the passenger door and soon we’re speeding out of the street.

  ‘Sylvie definitely hasn’t gone home. She knows that the police are watching her house,’ I say. ‘The best thing we can do is drive around. With a bit of luck we’ll see them somewhere.’ I’m not convinced that we’ll have that much luck, but Raoul nods.

  ‘Do you really think that Sylvie is behind this?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t just think it, I know it. The teachers on playground duty saw a young, blonde woman standing by the fence, just next to the shrubbery. If Valerie crawled under the fence there, the shrubs would have immediately hidden her from sight.

  ‘Would she have just gone off with Sylvie like that? Did she know her that well?’

  ‘Well enough, it seems,’ Raoul snaps. ‘You know yourself how trusting Valerie is.’

  I glance over at him and see that his face is contorted with self-reproach.

  ‘Sylvie won’t do anything to Valerie,’ I say with more conviction than I actually feel.

  ‘Why has she taken her then? Give me one good reason for her to have done this!’

  ‘Perhaps she wants to send a message to us,’ I suggest.

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘That we’re vulnerable.’

  Raoul takes a left turn. He is still driving too fast, too pent-up. I can’t do anything but anxiously ride along and check side streets to warn him of potential danger.

  Of course there’s no trace of Sylvie and Valerie, that would be too easy, but suddenly I get a brainwave, the kind when you can’t believe you didn’t think of it instantly.

  ‘We’ll call her,’ I say. ‘Who knows, she might pick up. She might be waiting for that.’

  Raoul pulls over right away and turns off the engine.

  I pass my phone to Raoul. ‘You speak.’

  Raoul takes the phone from me and puts it to his ear. I hear the ringing tone going on and on, but no one answers.

  We look at each other in defeat.

  ‘What now?’ I say. Deep inside the panic is stirring.

  I have to think, act, find Valerie. Panic leaves you paralysed. I take a deep breath.

  ‘Where would you take a little girl you’d just snatched from the playground?’ he asks.

  I think long and hard. ‘Somewhere little girls like, otherwise they whine and cry and want to go home. Sylvie can’t drag a screaming child around, she’d be noticed. She’s taken Valerie to a place where there are lots of children so that they can blend into the crowd.’

  ‘Now you’re assuming that she’s not planning to do anything to Valerie,’ Raoul says.

  I don’t reply, the fact I’m assuming that do
esn’t mean I’m sure of it.

  Raoul starts the engine and moves away from the curb.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask.

  ‘To the place Valerie likes best,’ Raoul says.

  ‘The zoo,’ we say in unison.

  The paths and terraces in the zoo are deserted. It’s a cloudy, chilly day and there are only a few people about. Even the animals sit apathetically in their cages and stare at the visitors as if they’re wondering why we don’t have anything better to do.

  ‘What did she like the last time we were here?’ Raoul wonders as we come to a fork in the path.

  ‘The stones,’ I recall. ‘And the monkeys. But what she really loved was that playground, do you remember?’

  Raoul nods and turns left. A long footpath stretches out in front of us, passing the animals’ cages. We rush to the playground. We can already see from a way off that there’s nobody around. The terrace is empty, the seesaw rests on the grass and the swings hangs in the air. Raoul stops. ‘Shit,’ he says.

  At that moment my mobile goes and I’m in such a hurry to get it out of my bag that I almost drop it. Sylvie’s name appears on the display. I show it to Raoul and press the green button with a shaking finger.

  ‘Elisa here.’

  ‘Hi Elisa, it’s Sylvie,’ Sylvie says in a clear and cheerful voice. ‘I saw that you’d called.’

  57.

  At first I’m lost for words.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ I’m wracking my brains, wondering how to approach this. Raoul tries to take the phone from me, but I turn away from him. ‘We’re looking for Valerie,’ I say. ‘She didn’t return to the classroom after the break.’

  ‘No, she didn’t, she’s with me,’ Sylvie says, her voice warm. ‘I picked her up so we could do something nice together. It’s a good idea for a daughter and her new mother to do some bonding, you don’t have to worry yourselves.’

  I struggle to breathe and look at Raoul. ‘She’s with Sylvie.’

  Raoul grabs the phone from my hand. ‘Sylvie!’ he snarls. ‘What the fuck are you doing? Where are you?’