Shadow Sister

by Simone Vlugt

  ‘Your boyfriend? You’re not a bit queer or something are you?’

  There’s a silence around the table. I fidget and don’t say anything. Luke stares at his plate.

  ‘Not a bit,’ he says in a clipped voice. ‘One hundred per cent.’

  Another painful silence.

  ‘Well,’ Elisa says finally. ‘Do we really have to be reduced to silence by this?’

  ‘Of course not, there’s nothing wrong with it,’ Sylvie says. ‘I’ve got nothing against queers. I mean, well, what a nasty word it is. It sounds so insulting. Like a swear word. Of course it’s not, but…’ she stops, tangled up in her own words. ‘I only mean that I’ve got nothing against gays.’

  Luke lays his hand on hers and says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Just eat your pudding.’

  Sylvie stares at his hand on hers and turns bright red. I take another sip of wine and look away. The prank has been a complete success, but the fun’s gone out of it somehow.

  The conversation is resumed and when I go to the toilet a second time, Luke comes after me.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say at once as we go up the stairs. ‘It just slipped out.’

  ‘You’re suffering from that quite a lot at the moment, aren’t you?’ Luke says. ‘What did you say to Sylvie in the toilets earlier on in the evening?’

  I have to hold on tightly to stop myself falling down the stairs. ‘Nothing, what do you mean?’

  ‘You didn’t warn her a little so that she could have spared herself the trouble?’ Luke says.

  ‘Should I have?’

  ‘That’s what I would have expected you to do, yes. Then you would have saved us both from a painful situation.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, full of remorse. I giggle a little, trying to break the tension. ‘But it was quite funny, don’t you think?’

  Luke gives me a look that I’m not used to from him. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I don’t think it was at all.’

  60.

  Luke doesn’t look at me once after that. I play with my napkin. He’s not really angry, is he? He must be able to understand that it was a joke? Irritated in turn, I ignore Luke and look at my husband, who seems to be finding it all terribly amusing. He winks at me.

  That’s why I love Raoul. He might not always be faithful, but he’ll never leave me. We are soul mates, friends and lovers too. He’ll never find this combination with another woman.

  The atmosphere around the table is a little subdued. Elisa does her best to raise our spirits with a funny story, but it doesn’t work. After the pudding, we stand up quickly, one by one.

  ‘Do you want to leave now?’ Raoul asks.

  I shake my head. ‘I quite fancy a Sambuca.’

  We get up, say our farewells to everyone and sit back down again. We face each other in silence and order two Sambucas. Raoul begins to say how funny it was to see Sylvie’s attitude change after Luke was forced out of the closet. He sniggers as he does an impression of her hanging onto Luke and afterwards sitting up straight like a prudish Victorian lady.

  ‘Luke wasn’t too happy,’ I say.

  ‘He’ll get over it,’ Raoul reassures me.

  We look at each other and burst out laughing. We discuss the evening and how nice it is to sit here like this; it’s been ages. The Sambucas arrive and we clink glasses. And then I remember what Jasmine told me earlier in the evening.

  ‘Was that appointment on Saturday worthwhile?’ I ask.

  ‘Appointment?’ Raoul takes a sip of Sambuca and puts his glass back down.

  ‘With that German.’

  ‘Oh that. Yes, that went fine.’

  ‘You went to the Euromast, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, how did you know that?’

  I keep my eyes fixed on his. ‘Because Jasmine saw you there, with a woman.’

  Raoul looks at me with a broad grin. ‘That was Helga, Ernst’s wife. She always goes on business trips with him.’

  ‘Oh,’ I smile back. Jasmine didn’t say that he was there with two people. Logic and emotions compete to get a hold on the situation.

  ‘Raoul.’

  ‘Hmm?’ He continues to look at me in the same sphinx-like manner, as if he’s finding my questions immensely amusing.

  ‘If you were in love with another woman, and I don’t mean just a bit but properly in love, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘God, no,’ Raoul reacts at once. ‘That would mean that you’d leave me and I wouldn’t want to run that risk.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so quick to walk, you know. We’re all attracted to other people at some time or other. You just have to get over those feelings, you can’t do anything about it. The point is more what you do with those feelings, how far you let it go. What would be the boundary for you if I fell in love with someone else?’

  Raoul reflects on it. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I’ve never thought about it. I think this is more about where your boundaries lie.’

  ‘Are you interested?’

  ‘I’d like to know, yes.’ He sits on the edge of his stool, wearing the same smug smile on his face and I become certain that he’s taking me for a ride. Don’t ask me how, but I see it on him. Usually he would have reacted with more irritation. This light-hearted, amused pose is disguising something else.

  I take a deep breath and say, ‘What I expect from a marriage is total fidelity, companionship and respect. Cheating doesn’t go with any of those things. If I found out that you were building the same kind of relationship with another woman as you have with me—’ I pause for a second so that the next words will fully sink in. I have his full attention now.

  ‘What would you do?’

  ‘I’d ruin you,’ I say. ‘I’d take out every share I have in Software International, I’d throw you out of the house my parents bought for us and I’d insist on getting full custody of Valerie. I don’t really believe in co-parenting, do you?’

  Raoul looks at me in disbelief.

  I smile at him and smack his thigh. ‘It’s just as well you’re not cheating, isn’t it?’ I laugh to break the tension.

  Raoul doesn’t laugh along.

  It’s late when we leave Oliva and walk along Witte de With Street. Raoul has left the car in the closest multi-storey car park, but it’s still quite a trek.

  I don’t like multi-storey car parks. I refuse to park in them if I’m on my own, especially late at night, but even with Raoul close by, I feel uneasy. What would Raoul be able to do if five men suddenly confronted us? Not that that’s ever happened, but still. I’m always relieved when we’re safely in the car.

  We go to the ticket machine and the display tells us we owe ten euros.

  ‘Ten euros! For that short time!’ Raoul says. ‘You don’t have a ten, do you?’

  I get out my purse and take out a ten-euro note. The machine swallows it up and gives us our ticket back.

  ‘Where’s the car?’ I ask.

  ‘On the third floor. Do you want to take the lift or the stairs?’ Raoul stands in front of the lift waiting for my reply.

  ‘The stairs.’ I don’t like lifts. They make me claustrophobic and a lift in a car park is something I find totally unpleasant.

  We walk upstairs and discuss the evening. The sound of our footsteps echoes behind us in the empty stairwell – our steps sound too loud, too present. During a moment of silence, I think I can hear the sound of footsteps somewhere below us. But we’re already at the top so I carry on chatting until we get to the car.

  ‘Shit.’ Raoul feels around in his pockets and frowns.

  ‘What is it?’ I look at him over the roof of the car. ‘Can’t you find the keys?’

  ‘No.’ Raoul pulls the lining out of his jacket pockets and pats his trousers. ‘I’m sure I put them in my jacket.’

  ‘Trouser pockets?’ I suggest.

  ‘I just felt them, they’re empty.’ Just to make sure, Raoul turns his trouser pocket linings inside out. Next he checks the inside pocket of his leather jacket, but it only contains h
is mobile.

  ‘Perhaps I dropped them by the ticket machine.’

  ‘Or in the restaurant,’ I say. ‘We’ll have to go back.’ But then I rummage around in my bag and like a magician producing something from a hat, I get out my key. ‘Tadaaa! I had a key in my bag.’

  Raoul looks relieved, but he’s still annoyed about losing his own. ‘You get into the car and I’ll just check that I didn’t drop it next to the machine,’ he says, and before I can dissuade him he’s gone.

  He’s left me here alone. It’s eleven at night in a multi-storey car park, he knows how scary I find that.

  ‘Bastard,’ I mutter as I quickly get into the car.

  And then I hear them again. Footsteps.

  I glance in the side mirror, but I can’t see anyone. I look back over my shoulder and can’t see anyone, but I can hear them. Calm, emphatic footsteps that are advancing nevertheless.

  I squirm in my seat. Bloody Raoul, why did you leave me on my own! I sink down and listen hard, but all I can hear is my own heart pounding.

  The footsteps have stopped, but the familiar sound of a door being opened doesn’t follow. There’s no engine being started up, nothing to suggest that the person has come to get their car.

  The door is locked, I reassure myself. They can’t do anything.

  All of a sudden a dark shape surfaces right next to my door and I scream.

  61.

  The shape bends down and Raoul’s laughing face appears through the window. He dangles the car keys between his fingers. I unlock the doors and Raoul gets in the driver’s side.

  ‘Where the hell did you get to?!’ I shout, verging on hysterical. ‘And what possessed you to leave me here alone, you idiot!’

  Raoul looks at me with astonishment. ‘You were safe in the car, though. What happened?’

  ‘I heard footsteps!’

  Raoul bursts out laughing and starts up the engine.

  ‘Go on, laugh. If you ever leave me alone in a garage again, you’ll pay for it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Raoul apologises. ‘I was only away for a couple of minutes.’

  ‘It seemed much longer. And? Were the keys next to the machine?’

  ‘No, there’s a hole in my jacket lining and they’d fallen through.’

  ‘And you say I’m scatterbrained!’

  We leave the garage and drive into the black night. A dark blue car drives through the boomgate behind us. My attacker from in there, I think with a smile. A bit strange it took them so long to get into their car and drive off, but as we enter Hillegersberg, I forget about it.

  ‘I’m just popping round to Jasmine’s to see whether everything went all right tonight,’ I say when we arrive home.

  Raoul opens the front door and looks at his watch. ‘This late?’

  ‘There’s still a light on, so…You never know, they might be struggling with a crying Valerie,’ I say. ‘Then I could bring her back with me. I’ll only be a minute.’

  ‘All right.’ Raoul goes inside, throws me the bunch of keys and closes the front door behind him.

  I quickly cross the road and ring on Jasmine’s bell. Her husband Lex opens up.

  ‘Hey!’ he says. ‘Did you have a good evening?’

  ‘I was about to ask you that,’ I say with a smile. ‘Are the girls asleep?’

  ‘They’re sleeping like babies. They had a bath together and played with the Barbies in bed. Once they’d fallen asleep we had to dig out all the shoes, skirts and other stuff from around them,’ Lex chuckles.

  ‘Great. I just thought I’d come and make sure,’ I say. ‘Raoul will pick her up tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Fine. Good night!’ Lex raises his hand and closes the door.

  I hurry over the street. The whole neighbourhood is still. The car park has made me nervous. As usual, the street seems quiet and safe. And then I hear footsteps behind me. I look back over my shoulder, but don’t see anyone.

  The hair on my arms and the back of my neck rises and my heart beats faster as I walk. I study the trees, someone could easily hide there, but no one jumps out. Of course not, why would they? Yes, Bilal, but I’m not scared of him anymore. Deep down, I’ve never believed that he would really do anything to me. I mean, then he would have done it long ago, right? He’s had opportunity enough.

  But there’s still that fear. My mouth becomes dry as I hurry along the pavement. There’s my house, my safe house. Just a few more steps and I’ll be inside. There, in the hall, I’ll hang up my jacket and laugh away my fears.

  Again the sound of soft but fast footsteps behind me, as if someone wants to cross over without being seen or heard. I glance back but still don’t see anyone. The dark silhouettes of the trees along the kerb are the only witnesses to my terror.

  I walk down the garden path. There’s a cracking sound behind me and I run to the door. The key, quick, quick! Bloody hell, why did Raoul lock the door behind him! He could have left it on the latch.

  There’s a noise behind me. The unmistakeable sound of one, two, three footsteps.

  I don’t look back, but panic builds up inside me. I scrape the key over the lock with jerky movements, not able to find the slot, and then finally it slides in and I can turn it. But I don’t get that far.

  I hear the crunch of the gravel and I know. I turn around. Someone is on our garden path, a few metres away, but I can’t make them out. The moon is shining, but the trees cast shadow over the path.

  ‘Yes?’ My voice sounds high-pitched with fear. I see something glittering. I take a step backwards, so that I’m standing with my back to the door.

  ‘What…’ I stammer and try to make out the object that’s pointing at me. It’s a gun.

  ‘Hello, Lydia,’ a familiar voice says.

  My astonishment is complete. It’s as if my blood has stopped circulating. I can’t believe this is happening, that the person facing me is really going to murder me. Impossible – we know each other too well.

  I fiddle helplessly with the lock. The lock is obstinate and my trembling fingers can’t get the key to budge.

  Again the gravel crunches, my attacker comes closer. There’s no point fleeing anymore, the best thing I can do is try to start up a conversation.

  I turn back around, with legs of jelly, and lean my back against the front door.

  ‘What is all this?’ I rasp. ‘You’ve got to be joking, right?’

  We stand a few steps away from each other. Moonlight falls onto the face before me.

  ‘Far from it,’ a soft voice says.

  How strange to hear my death sentence announced in such a friendly manner. I inch along the door, think about jumping into the bushes and hear the click of the trigger.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘Please!’

  I raise my hands, as if they might protect me. But I see the finger pressed against the trigger, I see a squinted eye focusing and a body that prepares itself for the recoil.

  I stare into the black circle in front of me and plead, ‘Please, I don’t understand why. What have I done? Please, don’t do this! I don’t want to die!’

  But the shot still comes.

  Elisa

  62.

  ‘So you’ve moved in with Raoul,’ Thomas says. He’s standing in my bedroom with his hands in his pockets. I’m throwing the contents of my wardrobe into my suitcases.

  ‘For now,’ I make the distinction. ‘As long as Sylvie is still free, all three of us are in danger.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’ Thomas picks up a jumper that has fallen from a pile and lays it in the suitcase. ‘Sylvie might have lost it once but that doesn’t mean she’s a serial killer. She didn’t do anything to Valerie.’

  ‘She should never have taken her.’ I put some summer shoes in. ‘What kind of person does that?’

  ‘Well…’ Thomas frowns at the way I’m packing my cases. ‘Why are you packing everything so messily? It’ll crumple.’

  I look at him in surprise. ‘I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘To ge
t back to Raoul.’

  ‘To get away from here. I’m scared of being at home on my own.’

  This was also the reason I asked Thomas to come with me. Although I can hardly believe that Sylvie would do anything to me, I’m not taking any risks.

  ‘Elisa,’ Thomas begins.

  I wipe a lock of hair away from my burning forehead and look at him.

  ‘Is there any chance…I mean, do you think that we ever.’ He breaks off his sentence, pushes his hands deeper into his pockets and stares at his shoes.

  I straighten up and drop a few bras into my case. ‘You’re my best friend, Thomas,’ I say. ‘Always have been, and always will be.’

  Of course, I understand that that’s not what he means, but to avoid the sensitive subject, I carry one of the packed cases out of the bedroom. The doorbell goes downstairs and Thomas goes past me to open up. I return to the bedroom, add a couple of nightdresses to a suitcase and click it shut.

  Thomas has opened the front door. I hear him talking for a while and then closing it again.

  ‘Who was that?’ I call down the stairs.

  ‘Someone asking for directions,’ Thomas says.

  He rummages around in the kitchen while I wait for him to come back upstairs. Soon I hear his heavy footsteps mounting the stairs and through the bedroom door I see him picking up the case I’ve left on the landing.

  ‘That’s heavy,’ he grumbles. ‘Did you put bricks in it?’

  ‘No, my shoes. Here’s another one.’ I take the second case from my bed and push it across the landing to the edge of the stairs. Thomas has gone outside and is putting the case in the boot of his car. I begin to drag a load down the stairs, but when I’ve got as far as the second step I realise I should have left this to Thomas.