Cruise: A Thriller

by Suzanne Vermeer

  “Of course I won’t forget. Why? Did you plan something special, or what?”

  “No, just a fun night out with the main group.”

  16

  His name was Ronald Heesterman. He was forty-five years old and divorced. He had brown hair, blue eyes, a slim build, and broad shoulders. She fell for him the moment they were introduced to each other.

  “Shall I put on a CD?” He kept his eyes on the road.

  “I’m kind of enjoying the silence,” she replied. “My ears are still ringing from all those sing-along songs.”

  Ronald chuckled. “Such a nice bar, just a shame that it was the Dutch music hour. What a racket! You could barely understand anyone.”

  As she nodded, she suddenly realized that she had been doing that almost the whole evening. Whenever Ronald spoke, she had nodded along in agreement. She wondered for a moment if this was because she wanted him to like her or because she simply agreed with everything he had to say. During the course of the night it had probably been a little bit of both. She really did want him to like her. He could tell fascinating stories about hilarious moments at work or about his adventures visiting remote tropical locations. But he stayed on the surface when it came to the variety of social problems that were being discussed. He was not someone who wanted to change the world or impose his opinion on others, which she found pleasant. All in all, she had clung to each and every word he spoke like a schoolgirl with a crush. And if she was honest with herself, she had no regrets about it at all. In fact, the butterflies in her stomach gave her a feeling that she had not had in a very long time.

  Ronald slowed down for a yellow traffic light.

  “Did you have a good night, Heleen?”

  “Awesome, my little neighbor would say.”

  He looked at her and smiled charmingly. “Alex, right?”

  Amused and slightly surprised, she said, “You’ve got a really good memory!”

  Heleen saw how the contours of her neighborhood were fast approaching in the distance. In a few minutes they would be in front of her house. A slight feeling of panic came over her. The close of a delightful evening suddenly seemed a lot trickier to her than it had a half hour ago.

  When she got to the bar earlier that night, her colleagues were already waiting for her. After the first round of drinks, Matthijs went to the bathroom. Moments later, he returned with Ronald at his side and introduced him as a good friend he had bumped into. Ronald introduced himself to her and the sparks between them flew instantly. To her delight the feeling was mutual. It didn’t take long for her colleagues to notice this, and they all excused themselves one by one with silly excuses, which she happily accepted. Ronald took her to a corner table, where they became completely enamored by each other.

  He stopped in front of her driveway. What he saw pleased him. “Great house, nice garden.”

  Heleen gathered up all her courage and took the bull by the horn.

  “Cup of coffee?” The question sounded like a request from a desperate woman to her, or like a sad cliché. She instantly felt embarrassed. The blood rushed to her head.

  “Sure,” Ronald said in a very neutral tone. He got out and quickly walked around the car so he could open the door for her. Heleen tried her best to relax as much as possible. She let Ronald in and led the way into the living room. As he sat down on the couch, she walked straight to the kitchen. She was relieved when she took a look at herself in the mirror in passing and found that her face wasn’t as red as she had thought it was. The slight blush was actually quite charming.

  She placed the cups on the coffee table and sat down beside him. Ronald leaned to the side slowly and kissed her tenderly on her mouth. Heleen felt how her body responded. The tingles of pleasure were overwhelming. She was sucked into a world she had forgotten even existed.

  While his tongue found hers, her fingertips massaged his neck and muscular shoulders. His hand slipped from her neck to her breasts. She moaned softly, after which his finger slid down farther past her ​​belly. He moved her underwear to the side and in a very controlled and slow manner he pushed a finger inside her.

  It felt as if an electric shock had gone through her ​​body. But instead of enjoying it, she cramped up completely and began to tremble. Ronald was startled. He let her go immediately and moved back. Away from the woman who seemed to be having a stroke. When it was clear to him that Heleen was breathing on her own and had things back under control, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

  “Jesus,” he whispered. “What the hell was that?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied in a voice that was on the verge of breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ronald made a reassuring and calming gesture. “Don’t be silly—you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  Heleen smiled faintly. Slowly but surely, she started to realize what had just happened. And it was something she didn’t want to discuss with Ronald. Actually, she didn’t want to discuss this particular topic with anyone. She couldn’t. Not as long as she was unable to say good-bye to Frank.

  Ronald sighed again. “You really scared the hell out of me.” Still somewhat dazed, he got up.

  “I suddenly need a drink. Can I get you one too?” He was in the kitchen in just three big steps.

  “Ronald?”

  He stopped immediately and turned around. “Yes?”

  “Would you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Keep walking to the hallway, grab your coat, and go home.”

  He looked at her with surprise.

  “Come on, Heleen. You can’t be serious. Let me at least stay with you for a while …”

  “Please, Ronald. This has nothing to do with you. I have to figure this out alone.”

  He hesitated. One brief look at Heleen changed his mind about pushing the issue any further. The woman looking at him now had undergone a complete metamorphosis in an instant. Not much was left of the friendly, gentle, sympathetic, and accommodating attitude. Instead, he saw a tormented woman who was trying to keep herself together long enough for him to leave. Forced self-confidence. “As you wish,” he said slowly and reluctantly. He walked into the hallway. With his jacket in his hand, he said: “Good luck, I hope to see you again.” The latter was a lie.

  Heleen heard him start his car and drive away. With her eyes closed, she sat and listened to the familiar sounds in the house: the whisper of the wind passing along the draught-strip, the hum of all the devices in the house and the rhythmic ticking of the clock. After a while she opened her eyes and got up. She walked into the kitchen. Behind the wall cabinet next to the fridge was a bottle of whiskey. The label read HAIG. Mockingly, she read aloud, “Open only on special occasions.” Back on the couch she put the bottle to her mouth and took a few swigs. The whiskey burned in her throat. The heat anesthetized her stress.

  Suddenly she became greedy and started gulping it down, wiping her mouth with a raw gesture as she put the bottle on the table. Her eyes drilled into the wedding picture on the wall. She focused on the left half of the blissful image. Frank stared at her from the wall with a smile on his face. The left corner of her mouth quivered.

  “So, you even control me from the grave? Fine! Then you’re going to force me to find out the whole truth. I will go to the ends of the world, and I will leave no stone unturned.”

  She screwed the cap back on the bottle. Her eyes stayed focused on her missing husband.

  “And nothing or no one is going to stop me now. Not even all of our great memories together.”

  17

  Heleen kept to the minimum speed limit; after all, those animal-crossing signs were there for a reason. She was headed to Apeldoorn and found that keeping her speed at exactly eighty kilometers per hour still felt a little fast on this rural two-lane road. But apparently, she seemed to be pretty much the only one who thought so, because cars were passing her regularly at about a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour. Some drivers even passe
d her honking and giving her the middle finger.

  These people will never learn, she thought, as a motorcycle passed her at high speed. How many times had she read in the local newspaper that someone had been killed in a terrible accident because of a sudden animal crossing? Here on the Veluwe, the chance of that happening was much greater; a deer or boar could jump in front of your car at any moment. At this speed, it seemed nearly impossible to avoid an animal.

  Just when she considered seriously slowing down, she saw the sign for Hoog Soeren. She took the exit and looked back in her rearview mirror. To her relief, no one was behind her. The paved road on which she found herself was narrow, no more than five meters wide. She had now slowed down to fifty kilometers per hour and would hate for an impatient driver to be behind her, stuck on her bumper on this glorified dirt road. From behind her sunglasses, she looked for potholes and other obstacles.

  After four kilometers, there was a crossing. She stuck to her directions, which had, up until now, been correct, and took a right. The provincial road made its way through the picturesque Hoog Soeren. A farm with a steel fence around it and a striking pink milk churn made into a mailbox served as her next landmark. Two hundred meters farther on, she saw the sign for the health spa resort and turned onto the bumpy drive way.

  She parked her car between those of the other guests, closed her eyes, and tried to get her breathing back under control. She glanced in the rearview mirror again, this time to inspect her appearance and reassure herself. If she kept going now, there might be no way back. But maybe there would be a new road. Was she strong enough to take it? She had to.

  After the fiasco with Ronald, everything had become so clear. All the pieces suddenly seemed to fall in place. She’d been fooling herself all this time. Frank had led a double life, then he had drowned and now she needed to move on. Time healed all wounds, but also the memories of terrible events. Pick yourself back up and get on with your life, right?

  Not so much. After that big swig of whiskey she had seen the other side of the story. Her ridiculous response to Ronald’s intimate advances had made ​​it truly apparent. She had avoided the confrontation with the truth and had taken a very cautious attitude. Just letting it all happen. It had brought her nothing. She had to do something to find out what exactly had happened to Frank.

  She had made her first appointment for Sunday afternoon.

  She pulled the key from the ignition and got out of her car. With a confident pace, she walked to the entrance of the wellness center, where she saw Angela Roof behind the front counter

  “Hi, Heleen! Did you manage to find us easily?” Angela walked around the counter and kissed her on the cheek. To an outsider, this looked like a greeting between friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while. “One moment—let me just take care of something first,” Angela said. She walked back behind the counter and spoke quickly on the phone. Within a minute, a young woman in a white jogging suit took her place at the reception desk. Angela nodded toward a closed door with a white sign on it that read MANAGEMENT in black letters. As she walked ahead of Heleen, her high heels clicked on the marble tiles.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you, with milk and sugar, please.”

  “You’ll have to do make due with just me today,” Angela said as she took the first full cup from the fancy coffee machine.

  “Johnny has an appointment in the Hague with a fitness equipment import company today, a demonstration of their new equipment.” She took the second cup and sat down opposite Heleen.

  “Jesus, girl. You must have a terrible time behind you.” She sighed and shook her head. “How is it even possible that someone could fall overboard in the middle of the night? At least, that’s what we heard happened. You can’t even wrap your mind around it!”

  Heleen nodded. “It’s unbelievable, but probably true. In any case, I can’t think of what else could have happened to him.”

  “What a drama,” Angela answered. “Truly unimaginable that something like that could happen to you. On a cruise during your anniversary—I still can’t comprehend it.”

  Heleen felt the built-up tension slowly leave her body. When she had finally managed to track down Angela through some of her colleagues, she sounded much friendlier than she had been during the cruise. Her voice was filled with empathy and she had agreed to meet her immediately. Since it was impossible for her to find a replacement on such short notice at the spa, Heleen had offered to come to see her there.

  The Angela seated across from her now looked very different than the Angela she had met during the cruise. She wore a black business suit and had her blond hair pinned up. It was all about the details. She had kept her makeup and jewelry simple and her clothes concealed more than they revealed. She looked more … civilized. The biggest difference from the last time they had seen each other was the look in her eyes. Instead of looking provocative or almost seductive, she now looked genuinely concerned and full of compassion. Heleen’s story had clearly made an impact on her.

  “So, what happened after the cruise?” Angela wanted to know. “You must understand that we never heard anything else about it. You stepped ashore in Barcelona, and we sailed back to Nice. During the last part of the trip, we tried to pry information from the staff but that got us nowhere. It was almost like the whole staff was under a gag order. Everyone kept their mouths shut tight.” She made an apologetic gesture. “Up until when returned back home, we talked about Frank’s disappearance frequently. After we went back to work, it faded to the background a little. I have to be honest about that. However, I must say that after your call the whole thing has been on my mind constantly.”

  Heleen took a deep breath and told her the whole story. When she finished, she took a sip of her coffee. Angela looked at her in total disbelief. It took a moment before the businesswoman could even respond.

  “Un … believable. You’re not kidding me, are you, Heleen?”

  “If only that were true.”

  “Just terrible.”

  Angela let the information sink in slowly. While Heleen contemplated how she would bring up what she had to say next.

  “The reason I’m here,” she began hesitantly, “is that you two were the only ones on the ship with whom we actually had any real contact. I am not getting anywhere with the information I have now. So, I decided to go and do some research on my own.”

  Angela nodded. “That’s clear to me, but how do you think we can help you with that?”

  Heleen made an apologetic gesture in advance of what she had to say. “This is hard for me,” she stammered. “I mean, I know what I want to ask, but cannot really put it into words properly.”

  Angela tapped her on the back of her hand encouragingly.

  “Just try it, girl. How bad could it be?”

  In a flash, Heleen caught a glimpse of irritation on Angela’s face. She ran a business so her time was limited. She had to get to the point now, otherwise Angela would lose her patience and she still wouldn’t get the answers she needed.

  “Frank and I took an evening stroll on the deck,” she began hesitantly. “From the corner of my eye, I saw you in a lawn chair …”

  Angela interrupted her with a hoarse laugh.

  “His name was Melvin. A nice guy from Rotterdam. Is that what you’re getting at?”

  Heleen immediately made an apologetic gesture. “Listen, Angela. Your lifestyle is not my business. We are all adults and …” She fell silent.

  “And what?”

  “Well … what I want to say … with such an open-minded attitude …”

  Angela’s gaze became more penetrating. Her mouth showed a sad smile.

  “I know where you’re going with this, Heleen. Because you keep beating around the bush, I’ll make it easy for you.”

  Heleen did not respond. Angela was totally right.

  “We are so-called swingers. People who regularly visit swingers clubs and partner swap. This happens only with the consent of
all the parties involved; nobody does anything against his or her will. When I was on the deck with Melvin, Johnny was in Melvin’s cabin with Melvin’s wife, Judy.”

  Heleen began to feel more embarrassed with each passing second. Was she really such a prude? She was trying to be open-minded about it all, but unfortunately the unpleasant feeling it gave her did not go away.

  “During the cruise, we limited our contact to Melvin and Judy only. There was no interaction between Frank and me, let alone Johnny.” Her small grin managed to ease the tension between them.

  “That’s what you really wanted to know, right?”

  “Yes,” Heleen replied straight from the heart. “That’s what I came here for. Sorry that I was afraid to ask you directly.”

  Angela accepted her apology with a curt nod. Heleen made ​​a move to get up. But Angela suddenly placed her hand on hers again. This time she felt the pressure of her hand clearly, making the gesture seem somewhat urgent.

  “Listen, I have loved men since I was fourteen years old. Since then I have gone through hundreds of them. Our marriage doesn’t suffer from it, because we know exactly what we expect from each other. One of the agreements that we have is that we never have sex with couples who disagree on it. The last thing we want is an angry and betrayed partner on our doorstep, blaming us for seducing their wife or husband.”

  “I understand,” Heleen said.

  “Good, because I also want you to understand clearly what I have to say next,” Angela said with great conviction.

  “I am an expert in the field of men. I sleep, talk, and laugh with them. The latter is particularly true when it comes to our gay customers, who frequent here in large numbers. Over the years I have learned to distinguish straight from gay with a single glance.” She emphasized what she was saying by pressing Heleen’s hand lightly. “I do not know what they’ve told you about Frank’s so-called homosexuality. I also do not know what evidence you have been given by them. But I do know, without any hesitation, that you can totally dismiss all those stories, documents, or whatever, because it’s all complete nonsense. Frank was not homosexual or bisexual. I would bet my life on that. And believe me when I say that I don’t make that kind of bold statement often. But in this case, I’m really one hundred percent sure of my statement. There is no way that Frank was gay; he was the definition of a straight male.”