“Well, skål!” Kenneth raised his glass of Amarone, waited for the others in turn to do the same, made eye contact with each one, and then sipped. “So, Bent, when are you finally going to get the door of the storage hut fixed? I had to rescue Ellen yesterday. Another half hour in there and the poor dear would probably have started on that dusty old bottle of Gammel Dansk!”
Bent put down his half pint, “Ah, well, that’s a tricky one. I started on it last week, but the whole door needs to come off and my sciatica is giving me gip right now. I saw Stig out in the car park just before and that got me thinking that I should probably ask him to give me a hand – after all, he knows that storage hut like the back of his hand.”
“Remember that we’re here, too, if you need a hand, Bent.” Lea was rapidly feeling the first, very soothing effects of her white wine after the long, cold cycle ride and was therefore in a particularly generous mood this evening.
“Thanks, Lea Mus, and cheers to that! But what I really need is a big, strong man.”
“Well,” quipped Henrik, looking directly at Lea, “we could all use one of those, couldn’t we, dear!”
“You can say that again!” She poured some more parsley sauce over her potatoes.
“Leave some for the rest of us, Lea dear!”
Lea winked back at Henrik. “Leave some what, Henrik? Parsley sauce? Or big strong men?”
“Ha ha – touché, my dear!”
Bent tried to call a bit of order to the proceedings. “I’m sure Stig will help me. So if any of you see him again before I do, tell him I want a word, okay?”
Kenneth quickly refilled his glass with Amarone. “Stig? Why should we see him before you do?”
“I’m just saying, if you do happen—”
“I really don’t think that’s at all likely. I mean I think I’ve spoken to him once—”
Bent sighed. “Okay, okay, just forget it!”
Henrik put a reassuring arm around Kenneth. “Relax, skat! You really are on edge tonight.”
“Speaking of big, strong men,” Henrik was now out of his seat and waving, “look at who just walked into the bar!”
Lea, smiling, turned around and saw a very familiar figure smiling over at them. Oh my God, what on earth is HE doing here?! The smile disappeared from her face and she felt a sudden heat working its way up from her chin to her temples. Only in part due to the extra bowl of steaming potatoes Lisbeth had just placed on their table. “Bent, is that M—” Please, Lord, don’t let him come over!
“Yes, Lea Mus, it’s Mads. Didn’t I tell you?”
No, Bent, you bleeding well didn’t! She passed the sauce boat to Henrik and tried to avoid Bent’s eyes.
“He’s renting a place down on Strandvejen while he looks for a flat in Strandvig.”
Henrik sat down with a crash. “Oh, how wonderful! And he looks fantastic in that leather jacket, very James Dean. Get him over and let’s drink to his return!”
“Yes, let’s drink to that!” Kenneth lifted his glass of Amarone, and was disappointed to see that it already seemed to be half-empty. He lifted up the bottle from the table and filled his own glass to the brim.
Bent stood up and tried to beckon Mads over, but diverted by the sight of his old friend Stig, turned away and sat down at the bar. Saved! thought Lea. Breathe, Lea. Slowly, breathe slowly!
“But Bent, I thought he was living with that woman, Pernille, in Copenhagen?” said Henrik, rather piqued he wasn’t au fait with the latest news.
Bent nodded. “It didn’t work out for him, did it. But we all saw that coming didn’t we? Seems that when our Mads was out playing football, Pernille was out playing the field.”
Bitch! The heat in Lea’s face was now matched by a slow heat rising in her chest.
“Bitch!” said Henrik, “I knew that Pernille was trouble. Well good riddance to her. There’s nothing worse than dishonesty in a relationship!”
The others nodded their agreement. Kenneth shifted nervously in his seat. And asked Lisbeth, in a very small voice, to bring them another bottle of Amarone.
CHAPTER 11
Lea was halfway out the door of the ladies toilets, when she suddenly changed her mind and went back in, leaving the door slightly ajar. Why is it so hot in here tonight! And why on earth didn’t Bent tell me! I’ll bloody kill him. Lea wasn’t usually the type to worry about her appearance and most mornings she’d leave the house without any makeup on and apply some eyeliner, mascara and lip-gloss when she got to the council offices. But, given that Mads had made a dramatic reappearance, it wouldn’t hurt to reapply her lipstick, would it? She looked at herself in the mirror and fanned her face. It was a relief to get away from the music and raised voices.
Maybe she should comb her hair a little? And a little spritz of perfume wouldn’t go amiss. Lea removed her gloves and scarf from her handbag and placed them on the counter beside the sink. She had just located her lipstick and eyeliner which, of course, were hiding at the very bottom of the bag under the remains of yesterday’s lunch when she heard whispering outside in the corridor. She slowly peeked out. It was Kenneth. Why on earth is he whispering? He was leaning in towards someone. And who’s that he’s talking to?
There was a creaking sound behind her, coming from the side door to the car park, so she pulled her head quickly back behind the toilet door. But no footsteps came. The whispering continued. So Lea decided to peek out again.
Kenneth had now moved slightly. He had moved away from the centre and the glare of the corridor lights, and was standing in the shadows, almost pressed against the wall. Lea could see the person standing opposite him. It was Stig. Kenneth had his wallet open and he was handing over a bundle of notes. “Here, this should be enough”. What the ….?
Stig counted the notes. “So you’re absolutely sure he hasn’t twigged yet, Kenneth?”
“No, and let’s try and keep it that way! You know what Henrik is like. He’ll kill me if he finds out. First he’ll kill me and then he’ll come and kill you!”
Stig laughed and put the money in the back pocket of his jeans. “Don’t worry, Kenneth. Your secret’s safe with me! Only one more week until the Moonlight Bathe and then you’re home free!”
Lea heard the words Moonlight Bathe and immediately thought of cupcakes. I will not bake bloody cupcakes!
Kenneth didn’t look convinced. “Maybe this is a bad idea. We could cancel—”
“It’s too late to cancel now, Kenneth! Look, just leave it all to me. That’s what we arranged.”
“But I can just picture his face when he realises what’s going on—”
Stig smiled. “When the time comes, he won’t know what’s hit him. Relax, Kenneth – go get yourself a glass of wine and leave it all to me!” Stig clapped Kenneth on the shoulder and went back into the bar.
Kenneth took a deep breath, checked his watch and disappeared into the gents toilets.
Lea stood in the doorway of the toilets, trying to make sense of what she had just seen. What on earth is—
“Hi, Lea!” Lea felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and jumped. She turned round to find Mads standing right behind her. What the ….? Mads stood there, waiting for a reply, but none came. He moved a little closer. “It’s good to see you. Sorry – did I give you a fright?”
“Um, no, not at all,” she lied furiously. Don’t panic, don’t panic! “I was just… I was... Bent told me that you’re thinking of moving back to Strandvig?”
“Yes, Pernille and I broke up at the end of summer. Didn’t you hear?”
No, I did not! Lea managed to shake her head.
“I thought I would keep the flat and stay on in Copenhagen, but it just doesn’t feel right. I never really fit in there. To be honest, I really miss Strandvig.” He fixed his large brown eyes on Lea. “There are a lot of things I miss about this place.”
Don’t look at me like that. I can’t breathe! “Erm, yes. Oh well, it was good to bump into you. See you down at the Vikings, I expect?”
<
br /> “Actually, Lea, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a drink. I’m staying at the old Kayak Club.”
Heeeeeelp! “I don’t know. I’m really busy at work this week—”
“How about right now?” he insisted, “I’ve even got a bottle of white chilling in our old fridge. Can you believe it’s still working after all these years? I can be there in, say, 20 minutes?”
Help! Help! “Now? Right now? Erm, that’s really kind of you, Mads. But I’ve got a really early start tomorrow”.
“Well, if you change your mind,” he said, placing an arm on her shoulder, “you know where to find me. Day or night, Lea.”
Lea felt a zing from her arm down to her toes. “Erm, thanks, Mads but I’d really better get back to the others. They’re waiting for me. Goodnight!” She tried to pull back from him, but he kept his arm on her shoulder.
“Goodnight, Lea”. He kissed her gently – just a second too long – on the cheek and headed out the side door to the car park. Lea, alone in the corridor, caught a sudden draught of freezing air. It felt good.
CHAPTER 12
“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’m absolutely stuffed,” said Henrik, patting his round belly with his chubby fingers. “If I eat one more piece of belly pork, I will literally burst!” But he ignored his own warning, threw caution to the wind and managed to rescue the very last strip of pork as Ida cleared away the large oval platter. And popped it into his mouth, licking his lips and enjoying every last grain of salt.
“Who’s for dessert, then?” asked Ida. “We’ve got citronfromage. And the æbletrifli is really good tonight.” She looked around the table and found the weak link in the chain. “Henrik?”
“Citronfromage and æbletrifli – both of them? Wow, that lovely new chef of yours is certainly pulling out all the stops tonight!” Henrik was torn. He had overdosed on the belly pork, but perhaps lemon mousse, smooth and slightly tart would be a good antidote? Then again, lightly cooked apples layered with crunchy pieces of crushed macaroon, and topped with freshly whipped cream was one of his favourite – if not very favourite – desserts. And the new chef didn’t look like the type to be mean with the cream. Being a man of a similar, rather portly stature.
Ida could see him hesitating and went in for the kill. “If it’s any help, Henrik, the trifle is served in a little jar. And topped with grated bitter chocolate…”
“Oooooo, yes! Thank you, Ida!” Henrik was sold. He was a sucker for anything served in a jar. This new chef certainly knew his stuff and the way to his customers’ hearts.
Ida laughed, “You won’t be disappointed. Anyone else?”
Bent looked at Kenneth’s plate, “What’s up with you tonight? You’ve been restless since you got here. Off your food?”
“I am feeling a bit off colour, Bent. Maybe the flu coming on?” said Kenneth, hurriedly. “But I’ll take another glass of Amarone, please Ida. I don’t really want one, you know, but it’ll probably help to nip this thing in the bud. Starve a fever, feed a cold, and all that.”
Bent raised his eyebrows.
Ida looked down at the table, committing the order to her memory. “So that’s one æbletrifli, a glass of Kenneth’s usual and coffees for Lea and Bent then,” she said, about to leave the table.
“Oh, and maybe,” said Henrik, touching her arm gently and whispering in her ear, “just a couple of chef’s delicious petits fours to nibble on.”
CHAPTER 13
Ida carefully removed the candle holders and vases from the tables and lined them up on the serving trolley closest to the bar. “That’s great, Ida love!” shouted Karsten. “Just you get going now – it’s getting really late and you have gymnasium tomorrow, don’t you?”
Ida smiled and nodded. “Yes, but I’ll be here again on Monday. Just ring if you need me before then. I could do with the extra money!”
“Couldn’t we all, love”, shouted Johnny, who was standing behind the till and totalling up the days’ takings. Ten minutes earlier he’d changed the music to John Mogensen’s ‘Allerbedste’ — the signal to the local punters that it was time to pay up and drink up.
“Okay, then.” Ida picked up her coat and was about to put it on when a loud vibrating noise came from her pocket. Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzzz.
Johnny was getting ready to shout something inappropriate, when Karsten put his hand firmly over his mouth. “Leave her alone, Johnny, she’s a nice kid. Just let her get home.”
Ida, unaware of what was going on behind her, hurriedly pulled out her telephone and looked at the screen. She seemed confused and looked at it again, more closely this time and paused for a second. She started to key in a few strokes, changed her mind and switched it off, quickly putting it back in her coat pocket. Martin must be crazy. I really don’t want to get—
Ida’s telephone buzzed again. This time she stole a glance behind her, read the message and texted a reply, before zipping up her coat. She grabbed her bike helmet and was half way towards the side door when Lisbeth stopped her.
“Wait up, poppet! Is everything okay?”
Ida reddened. “Yes, I’m fine, Lisbeth. Just on my way home now.” She looked slightly hesitant. “Unless, that is, you wanted me to do something else..?”
“Oh, no, poppet. You’ve done a great job! I just wondered, are you biking home alone?” Lisbeth was immediately in Mother Hen mode.
Ida looked embarrassed. “Yes. But it’s okay, I’ll be fine on my own. Really. I’m only ten minutes along the coast road.” She pointed at her helmet and smiled. “And I’ve got my helmet. Safety first!”
“Where is he?”
“Where’s who?”
“Gustav?”
Ida was caught unawares, “Gustav? Erm, I don’t know.” She turned her head towards the kitchen door. “He wasn’t in the kitchen. Out the back maybe?”
“I really don’t like the thought of you cycling on your own.”
“Honestly, Lisbeth, I’ll be fine. Goodnight!” Ida waved and headed out the side door, not looking back.
Lisbeth was immediately on high alert. “Karsten, have you seen Gustav?”
“Not recently, my love. I thought he was in the kitchen with you?”
“That was ages ago. He was in a right mood – wouldn’t speak to anyone. On the bright side, he washed the dishes faster than ever before. Did you speak to him?”
“No, my love. Stig said it was best to leave him alone. They had had a bit of a bust up out in the car park when Gustav turned up for work tonight. But Stig said it was best we gave him some time to cool off—”
“I thought you said the other day you were going to give him a warning. That’s the third time in a row that he’s been late. And now he’s gone off without a word to anyone? Maybe I should call his mum—”
“Don’t worry that pretty little Aarhus head of yours—”
Lisbeth looked like she was going to throw the heap of dirty tablecloths she was holding onto Karsten’s head. “I’ll give you Aarhus!”
Lea whispered to Bent, “And on that note, it’s high time we did a disappearing act!”
Lisbeth clutched the tablecloths to her bosom and turned to Lea. “I hope she’ll be alright.”
Lea patted Lisbeth’s arm. “Ida? Don’t worry, Lisbeth. She’s a big girl, she’ll be fine. Besides, Bent and I are heading that way too. We’ll keep an eye out for her.”
Lisbeth put the damask tablecloths down on a table and started folding them. Even if they were dirty, she still liked them to be neatly stacked before they went off to the laundry service. “A good worker. And just a lovely, lovely girl. Pretty too! No wonder Gustav is all silly when he’s around her.”
“Gustav’s got a crush on her? Is that what you think’s going on?”
“Well, he has been acting all strange recently. I think Gustav’s all smitten with our Ida. Typical teenage boy. Gone straight to his head!”
Bent nodded. “He wouldn’t be the first and he certainly won’t be the l
ast. Ha ha, it’s a beautiful thing, young love. Though I’m not so sure that Ida is aware of his, um, affections.”
Lea smiled. “She’s probably blissfully unaware. Gustav’s got a funny way of showing it, all moody and shy. Anyway, Ida doesn’t look like she has time for a boyfriend. Studying full-time and working here and for the Brix family. I don’t know how she stands it.” Lea rolled her eyes. Maria Brix was a well-known figure at Strandvig council’s offices, having pestered the Day Care department for days on end when, at six months, the twins were finally old enough to attend crèche. Strandvig had dubbed the pair ‘High Maintenance Maria’ and ‘Martin the Peacock’.
Bent smiled. “Patience of a saint, she has, young Ida. Elvira calls her the Mother Teresa of Strandvig. Did you know Elvira is her grandmother?”
“Really, Bent?” Lea had never made the connection before.
“Elvira, yes. A fine looking woman herself! Very sound of mind and body—”
“Oh, Bent, you and your harem. You’re the giddy limit!”
Bent pretended to look offended. “You know what they say. I may be mean, but I’m very generous with my body!”
“Oh, away with you, you old fool!” Lisbeth gave him a playful swipe on the shoulder. “Get home to bed!”
Bent looked at his watch. “You know what else they say, Lisbeth. If you’re not in bed by midnight…go home!” He chortled and gave the thumbs up to Karsten, who returned the gesture.
Lea looked at her watch and started pulling on her coat, but didn’t bother to button it up. She was still flushed from earlier and was looking forward to getting outside into the cool air. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was the early menopause! Damn that Mads Sørensen! She picked up her bag from the floor, dumped it on the table and rummaged around for her bike keys. Out came her two-metre long grey lambswool scarf, her thermal gloves and hat, makeup bag, diary, two water bottles – both of them almost empty, her half-munched salmon sandwich from the day before, a couple of untouched fig bars and various hairbrushes as well as two small white envelopes. Damn! She had promised her colleague to drop the letters off personally on the way to the Kro tonight… Oh well, she would do it on the way home. She could do with the exercise and it would be a good way to cool off. Now, where are those keys when I need them?
Death Comes to Strandvig Page 5