“Lizzy’s cool. She won’t mind.”
Judith turned to look out the window again when it dawned on her what Chris had just said. In shock she turned back to face him.
“You made that sound as if she doesn’t know yet!”
Chris winced. “Well, she doesn’t.”
“Chris!” Judith’s anxiety turned to panic.
“Calm down. I tried to call her, but I kept getting her voicemail.”
“So she hasn’t given her consent and doesn’t even know we’re coming?”
Chris winced a little at Judith’s question. “No, not yet, but—”
“Oh God, Chris, you said it was okay!”
“It is okay. I promise you, Lizzy won’t mind.”
“How can you be sure if you haven’t spoken to her? I can’t just camp out in someone’s home without their consent!”
“Trust me! I’ve known Lizzy since we were kids. It won’t be a problem.”
Judith spotted Emily coming through the school doors surrounded by other energetic seven-year-olds and knew she had no choice now but to trust that Chris was right. She got out of the car and waved to Emily, who excitedly waved back as she came running full speed toward her. Judith knelt and caught her in her arms and gave her a big hug.
“Mommy, guess what we’ve being painting today?”
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
“Our own faces.” Emily’s beaming smile soothed away some of the panic Judith was feeling.
“Wow, that must have been hard.”
“It was, because we had to do it from memory, but Lisa pretended to go to the bathroom so she could look in the mirror.”
“Did she now?”
Emily leaned to one side to get a better look at the car parked behind Judith.
“Whose car is that, Mommy?”
“It belongs to a friend of mine. His name is Chris and he’s going to give us a lift.”
“How come?”
“Well…” Judith hesitated and tried to continue in a casual tone. “You and I are going to be staying somewhere for a few days and Chris is here to help us with our bags.”
Emily took on that familiar frown she always made when she was trying to work something out.
“Is Daddy coming?”
Her words pierced like a knife. How many times had she witnessed Emily’s hurt and her sadness as he rejected her time and time again, and how hard had Emily tried to win his love and attention only to be shunned and pushed away?
Judith tried hard to hold back the tears that welled up. She loved her daughter so much and all she wanted to do was to protect her. “No, darling, Daddy’s not coming. It will just be you and me.”
Emily stared into her eyes and Judith held her breath. She desperately wanted to say something reassuring and to give her the explanation she was owed, but then, to her relief, Emily’s frown disappeared and she simply accepted it with an even, “Okay, Mommy.”
Judith felt too choked with emotion to speak, but pulled Emily in close again, hugging her tightly, and silently promised she would do whatever it took to make things right.
*
Chris weaved his way across town through the hordes of meandering tourists, tooting cars, and local Amsterdamers peddling with death-defying expertise in between and around everything in their path, before finally turning off into a quiet narrow side street. It was a charming street typical of Amsterdam. It was lined on either side with tall traditional narrow seventeenth-century houses all boasting elaborate decorative stone gables, revealing the occupations of the industrious trading merchants who once owned them. A quiet narrow canal, lined with lush green trees, ran down the middle of the street, separating one side from the other. At each end was a low wooden bridge with black decorative railings stretching across the canal, enhancing the quaintness and overall tranquility of the street.
Like everywhere else in Amsterdam, all the parking spaces were filled with cars that never seemed to move, but Chris spotted a small space at the end of the street and decided to try to squeeze the car into it. Parking in Amsterdam was not for the faint-hearted. People often drove their cars into the canal while trying to park, and Judith held her breath while Chris carefully maneuvered the car until he finally managed to squeeze it in, albeit at a weird angle.
Chris finally pulled up the hand brake and sighed victoriously before speaking. “It’s only four doors back.” He turned off the ignition and turned to her with a slight grimace. “I have to warn you, though, it’s also four flights of stairs we have to climb.”
Some minutes later they all stood on a small landing panting and sweating. Chris plonked the bulging suitcase on the ground.
“I have to do something about my condition.”
Judith dropped the sport bags she was carrying. “That makes two of us.”
“It’s harder for me because I have shorter legs,” Emily quipped.
Both Chris and Judith burst out laughing at Emily’s statement. Then Chris dug out the keys, unlocked the front door, and led them inside.
Judith was certainly impressed. The apartment was surprisingly spacious without being cavernous, and she especially liked the living room. Tall wall-to-wall windows allowed an extraordinary array of light to penetrate and fill every corner of the room. The walls were painted a soft cream color that contrasted beautifully with the warm oak floor. In the center were three big, comfortable-looking couches deliberately placed around a welcoming authentic fireplace. At the far end of the living room was an open kitchen, and off to the side was an alcove that functioned as an adequate dining area. The whole setting was simplistically elegant, yet cozy and warm. They followed Chris around as he showed them the rest of the apartment, which Judith found to be tastefully decorated. He pointed out Lizzy’s bedroom and study without entering before finally showing them the two guest rooms they could use.
“This place is great.”
“I knew you’d like it.” Chris smiled knowingly.
“It must have cost a ton!”
“Well, the place was in a pretty bad shape when she bought it, so she got it for a good price and she did most of the work on it herself. Come on, there’s one more thing I want you to see.”
Chris led them back down the hall and through the living room and opened the two bay doors leading out onto the roof terrace. Chris had been right; it was gorgeous. It was like a private oasis hidden in between the rooftops. The terrace was built of wood and was about six yards by six yards. It had a garden table and chairs tucked away to the left and lots of plant pots and hanging baskets all around. Although there were no flowers in them, Judith could easily imagine how beautiful it could be. The terrace owed its privacy to the surrounding rooftops, but ahead the view was clear and Judith could see quite far into the city’s center.
“Chris, this is lovely. It’s like a secret hideaway from the world.”
“I knew you’d like it. Everybody does. Look, I have to get going if I’m going to finish my packing on time.”
Judith accompanied him back to the front door listening to further information, like where to find the clean linens and such.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” He took out his bunch of keys, unhooked two, and passed them to her explaining that one was for this door and one was for the downstairs door. Judith accepted the keys and studied them resting in her palm. Her earlier apprehension rushed back.
“Chris, I really don’t feel comfortable staying in this woman’s house without her permission.”
“Judith, you must believe me, Lizzy won’t mind, and besides, she won’t be back for another three weeks.”
“But still, I—”
“If it makes you feel better, then I promise to keep calling her.”
Judith nodded taking some comfort from that. “Thank you, Chris, for everything you’ve done for us today.”
“No problem. I’ll try to call you in a few days, to see how you’re doing.”
“No, don’t. I don’t want you thinking about
me while you’re on vacation. I’ll call you when you get back and let you know where I am.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You just go and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Chris gave her a hug, wished her luck, and then left. As she listened to his footsteps disappear down the stairs, she wondered what on earth she was supposed to do next. She headed back to the living room and watched Emily playing on the terrace.
She felt completely out of place and utterly alone.
Chapter Two
Lizzy closed the door behind her with a deep sigh and leaned against it feeling utterly frustrated with herself for being so stupid. After a few moments of chastising herself she walked over to the bed and with a feeling of total exasperation, let herself fall back onto it. She thought back to when Kees Dekker, the big-time producer, had approached her. He’d called her out of the blue, explaining how impressed he’d been with her latest movie and that he had something she might be interested in. At first she’d tactfully tried to put him off, telling him she was grateful for the offer but was smack-bang in the middle of preproduction for a new movie already and had neither the time nor the funding to get distracted. She hadn’t lied, but she had withheld her real reason for turning it down—she didn’t like mainstream moviemaking and had once vowed never to go down that road. Kees Dekker was renowned for his tenacity, and he had been persistent in his conviction that she would find it worth her while and insisted she at least read the script before turning the project down. She’d finally agreed to read it on the premise that he would leave her alone if she still wasn’t interested.
The following morning the script had arrived by courier and she’d reluctantly sat to read it. She’d stopped only once for a bathroom break and a fresh cup of tea, pausing every once in a while to jot down thoughts on camera positions and the like. Kees had been right. The script was good, and there was no denying it: if not for the fact that it was already in the hands of a mainstream producer, it would have been something she would have loved to put her teeth into. For the sake of the script alone she agreed to meet up for coffee. To his credit, he hadn’t wasted her time with silly chitchat, but instead had gotten right down to business. Before their coffee had been served he had offered her the job of directing the movie, emphasizing the fact that she would have a big budget at her disposal. The idea of being able to work without having to be restricted by a cripplingly low budget had been tempting, but not enough to convince her to ignore her trepidation. Then as a final attempt to reel her in, he had suggested that she at least come over to France, where most of the movie was going to be shot, for a few weeks to meet everybody and to get the feel of the project. He promised he would reimburse her for any expenses, no strings attached, and if she still wasn’t interested, well, then that would be that. Against her better judgment she had agreed and now, after only being there one week, she’d had it. This just wasn’t her style.
She was used to working with a small, dedicated crew who, despite the restrictions of a low budget, tried to tell the story the way they thought the story should be told, without bias. Of course everybody hoped that the movie would make money, just like these people did, but that never influenced the artistic choices they made. That was the way she liked it. It was the way she thought a movie should be made. On this project there were just too many investing parties meddling with the creative process. She reached for the telephone next to the bed. She’d made up her mind: she was going back home on the first available flight. Kees had said at their first meeting that he’d got other directors lined up. Well, one of them could do it, she thought, and get rich fast. She wished them luck.
*
Lizzy threw her bags into the trunk of her car and planted herself behind the steering wheel relieved to be back on home soil. Her family had immigrated to the Netherlands when she was just four years old, and although she was proud of her British roots, Holland was the only home she’d known, and it was where she felt she belonged. She turned the key in the ignition, pressed Play on her CD player, and to the sound of Fleetwood Mac, she drove out of the airport parking lot.
She loved driving this time of night. There were fewer cars, and the backdrop of lights along the main roads always created in her mind the illusion that the road belonged to her, that it was lit up especially for her to follow. It gave her the feeling that she was free to go anywhere she liked. She thought back to when she and Maurice would get in the car late at night. They’d head for the highway and drive for ages, making up destinations as they went along. When they got tired they’d stop for coffee and then head back. She would give anything to be able to travel back through time to one of those moments. This time they’d drive on, never stopping, never turning back. They’d find a different destination.
Forty minutes later she was climbing the four flights of narrow stairs leading up to her apartment. It was the one thing that had made her think twice before buying the place. Maurice hadn’t been put off by them and had insisted that they’d get used to them and that after a while they wouldn’t even notice them. That had been nearly eight years ago, and Lizzy still noticed them. She unlocked her front door and stepped into the familiar dark hallway, automatically dropping her bags under the coat rack. As she turned to close the door she heard a sound from behind her. Her heart missed a beat as she abruptly turned around to face the darkened hallway.
“Who’s there?”
She instinctively reached out and felt for the light switch, and the blinding void of darkness disappeared. At the end of the hall stood a woman with shoulder-length auburn hair, wearing a dressing gown identical to Lizzy’s, holding a broom tightly to her chest and looking just as terrified as Lizzy felt.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m…I’m…are you Lizzy?”
Lizzy’s brain raked through its memory banks, but she couldn’t remember ever meeting this woman before. The stranger did not wait for her answer, but quickly continued.
“Chris never got through to you, did he? Oh God, this is so embarrassing. He said he’d make sure he got in contact with you.”
It was clear by her expression and tone of voice that she was more than a little upset, and hearing her mention Chris’s name only added to Lizzy’s confusion. “Chris let you in?”
She nodded sheepishly and Lizzy studied her, unsure what to think. She thought she knew all of Chris’s friends, but friend or no friend, it still didn’t explain what she was doing in her home.
“How do you know Chris?”
“We met at his last exhibition, at the Pumpkin Gallery.”
Lizzy suddenly remembered Chris telling her about another fellow Brit he’d met during his last exhibition. He’d been showing the work of a young unknown artist in his gallery and apparently she had been the only person to walk in off the street and fully grasp the meaning of his work. They had hit it off and met up frequently to talk about art. She remembered Chris telling her that she always seemed a little anxious, but that he always found her conversation refreshing as well as engaging. Lizzy consulted her memory again trying to remember what her name had been.
“Is your name Judith?”
The woman looked surprised. “Yes. Judith Hilford.”
Although she was a stranger to her, just being able to place her as an acquaintance of Chris relieved some of the tension Lizzy felt. She had no idea what had possessed Chris to leave her in her home, but the mere fact that he had, proved to her that she could at least be trusted. She started to take off her jacket.
“This is so awful, I’m so sorry. You must be so angry.”
Lizzy hung her jacket on one of the remaining hooks. “No, no, I’m not angry. Surprised, but not angry, and I wouldn’t call it awful, just a new experience to add to the list.”
Judith’s expression was still one of utter shock and she was still gripping the broom tightly to her chest. Suddenly the idea that Judith would consider her a threat in her
own home, holding nothing more than a broom to defend herself against her, seemed somehow kind of funny. Lizzy couldn’t help but smile as she approached her.
“Well, Judith, I’m feeling slightly dehydrated and I’m dying for a decent cup of tea, so why don’t you put down the broom and join me for a drink and you and I get better acquainted?”
Judith’s face turned red as she lessened her grip on the broom.
Lizzy passed her and headed straight for the kitchen wondering why Chris would have let her into her home. One thing she knew for sure: there had better be a good reason or she’d kill him. She would have called him right then and there, but she knew he was already away on vacation and wouldn’t be back for another three weeks.
Although she knew there shouldn’t be any fresh milk in the refrigerator, she opened it anyway. After all, there shouldn’t be anybody in her home, but there was. As expected, there wasn’t any. In fact, the refrigerator was as bare as she’d left it. She wondered how many days this woman had been here and what she’d eaten. She closed the refrigerator door and opened a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen where she always kept a reserve bottle of coffee creamer for moments like these when she ran out of milk.
Judith entered the living room just as Lizzy was pouring the hot water into the mugs. Her hair was now tied back and she’d changed out of the dressing gown into a smart pair of light brown pants and a white blouse that hung loose. She looked elegant in a fumbled kind of way and Lizzy could tell by the way she walked toward her that she was still feeling uneasy.
“Do you take sugar and milk?”
“Neither, thank you.”
Lizzy spooned out the teabags and passed a mug across the counter to Judith.
“So, how long have you been here?”
“Four days.”
Lizzy added two spoons of sugar and poured coffee creamer into her own mug and noticed Judith’s expression. She knew that a lot of people found the idea of coffee creamer in tea disgusting and normally she felt compelled to explain how she hated black tea, but this time she felt it unnecessary and let the moment pass. She joined Judith in the living room and sat in her favorite spot next to the fireplace. Judith seated herself on the couch opposite.
Awakening to Sunlight Page 2