The Chameleons
39. The impossible happens
Marcel stared glumly into his glass and wished he’d never asked about Jan. Willem had sat him down two hours ago and had talked non-stop ever since about the new love of his life. Not that he wasn’t pleased; by all accounts, this Jan seemed to be heaven-sent and he was pleased for his friend but you could have too much of a good thing and Willem was beginning to repeat himself.
“Yes, you said,” was his weary reply to the latest anecdote, slightly embellished from the first version.
“Oops! Am I boring you? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
”I am happy for you Willem, I truly am but I’m beginning to have an unhealthily detailed knowledge of this guy, from the Gucci sweaters to the mole on his dick. Please, leave a little for me to find out, otherwise I’ll burst out laughing when I meet him.”
“Okay fine, point taken. Anyway, I haven’t asked about your love life. Have you solved all the mysteries of the vagina yet?”
Marcel took his opportunity and filled in the main details of New Year’s Eve and its aftermath.
“You mean you haven’t rung either of them?”
“They haven’t rung me either. I’m just as well pleased actually. It’s all too complicated. It was nice; well, nice, an experience but I don’t think any of us are keen to repeat it. It was a sort of one-off thing you know; amazing at the time but…”
“So what are you going to do now? Look, if I can find Mr. Right, I’m sure you can. You’re not going to sit in your flat and sulk are you? I know you Marcel; you’ll hibernate and go all introspective until you work it out of your system. There’s a whole world out there, go and explore it.”
“Oh balls Willem! The whole world out there is Amsterdam remember. We’ve been there, done it and it’s a very small world.”
“So go on holiday, or go and find some tourists. There’s always a plentiful supply of them around.”
I could go on holiday; I’ve got plenty owed to me but I hate going on holiday on my own, you know that. As for the tourists, they’re only here for one thing and you can hardly build anything from a fling in a darkroom can you?”
“Is that what you’re looking for then, to build something, a relationship? Don’t underestimate the qualities of good anonymous sex my dear; very therapeutic.”
“Well you should know!”
Marcel could have bitten his tongue as he saw the hurt look on Willem’s face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Anyway, it never comes if you’re looking for it, does it. No, I’ll just drift along for a while and see what happens.”
“ No great life-changes there then,” noted Willem sarcastically, “Okay, that’s it. We’re going out tonight. We’ll hit the bars and have a laugh at all the queens in fancy dress, just like we did in the old days. I’m not married yet, I can still go out can’t I? Anyway, I’ll have my own personal chaperone won’t I?”
“I’m not really in the mood…”
“Nonsense. Come on, go and get your glad rags on, I’ll ring your bell in half an hour.”
Marcel knew there was no arguing with him and after another futile attempt at protest, made his way half-heartedly to his own flat to get changed. He could always come away early if it got to be too much.
Because it was still only early, they decided to go to the Amstel to see if there was any atmosphere to be found before the more serious bars later on. This area was famous for its sing along bars, playing old Dutch music and its general bonhomie but in these dark days after New Year, it all seemed a bit flat. They nursed their beers in a corner and watched as a few hairdresser types from the provinces jigged around to the Abba records and screamed insults at each other. Even Willem’s natural exuberance was muted.
“This is awful. I can’t believe how things have changed around here. Weekends used to be so much fun, guaranteed to get you in the mood but this…”
“Well, it’s still early.” Marcel tried to find an excuse but he too wished he’d followed his instinct and stayed at home.
“Let’s move on. I’m not giving up yet. Let’s try the Kerkstraat.”
Reluctantly, Marcel followed Willem out and hands in pockets and collars up against the wind, the two friends threaded their way through the streets.
The Kerkstraat was as dead as the Amstel and Marcel had had enough but Willem insisted they try another area and they ended up in a bar for the younger set in the Reguliersdwarsstraat.
“Happy now? Have you seen enough yet?”
Marcel was becoming positively morose and decided to resist all attempts at moving them on.
“Oh go on, one more drink. It all looks better under the influence. Here, have a joint; it’ll mellow you out a bit. I may soon have to give all this up. Oh God, I hope so. I don’t think Jan’s into any of this but I can’t say I’ll miss it.”
Willem was already at the bar, so Marcel drew deeply and waited for the effect to kick in. Whether he was particularly receptive that night, or because he was in a certain frame of mind, he failed to register that Willem had suddenly darted off towards the back of the room.
“I know this sounds cheeky and I don’t mind if you say no but can I buy you a drink?”
Marcel looked up to find a young, fair-haired man looking down at him, smiling sheepishly and blinking nervously.
‘He looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights,’ thought Marcel, ‘Cute in a preppy sort of way, probably English.’
He looked around quickly but there was no sign of Willem.
“Well, my friend’s around somewhere and he’s supposed to be getting the drinks but oh…why not? Sure, I’d like a beer please.”
“I’m not interrupting anything am I? I’ll go if I am. Only, I saw your friend leave and wondered if it would be okay. I don’t usually do this sort of thing…well, I’m not very good at it anyway.”
“No, that’s fine. Willem and I are just friends, it’s no problem.”
“Okay then, a beer you said?”
Marcel watched as he went to the bar and switched into his well-practised and automatic appraisal of potential partners.
‘Nice body,’ he thought, ‘Muscular but not over trained like so many of them. Nice face too. Well, why not? Willem’s done his disappearing act again and I don’t see why I should sit here like a lemon.’
“Here we are then. I’m Jack by the way. I’m from London.”
“I’m Marcel, pleased to meet you, how long are you here for?”
“I go back tomorrow unfortunately but I come over here quite often.”
For the next ten minutes or so, they indulged in the sort of tourist-meets-local chat with which Marcel was very familiar. He didn’t mind, he liked talking to tourists, even though conversations tended to follow exactly the same lines each time, at least until you got to know them better. This guy was very pleasant, a bit over-talkative and not obviously intelligent but friendly enough. Despite his earlier misgivings about the evening, Marcel began to think about the prospect of it going further. Fortunately, Jack was going back the next day, so it would be pretty much accepted as a one-night stand and as he was giving off all the right signals, Marcel began to cheer up. The mood was short-lived however. Just as Jack and Marcel had got to the stage where knees were accidentally touching and glances were a touch longer and more lingering, Willem came back.
Although he saw him return out of the corner of his eye, Marcel ignored him at first and deliberately continued talking to Jack. He was irritated at Willem’s comings and goings; now he could wait. It was only when he saw the concerned look on Jack’s face that he turned around.
“I don’t think your friend’s very well.”
It was true. Willem’s face looked white as a sheet and he was clutching his chest. Marcel leapt of his chair.
“What is it? What’s the matter with you? You look terrible.”
Willem couldn’t answer. It was clear he was having trouble breathing and he slowly sank to his knees.
“Willem!” Marcel panicked. This was not one of Willem’s party tricks; this was for real and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Luckily, Jack took on a whole new dimension and briskly took charge.
“I’m a doctor, don’t worry. Give me your jacket and then stand back a little to give him some air.”
After swearing never to take anybody at face-value again and thanking God for Jack, Marcel felt tears running down his face and cursed Willem for having given him that joint. He then knelt down at a safe distance to watch Jack examine his best and only true friend.
“Can you call for an ambulance? Quickly! This man’s having a heart attack!”
The bar staff, to their credit moved like lightning and cleared the area of the curious onlookers who had slowly gathered around. Marcel stood trembling and pale in the midst of the crowd. He couldn’t imagine life without Willem; the most irritating and obnoxious man he’d ever known but also the most faithful and giving. He and Willem had so much history between them, so much happiness and so much despair and he wasn’t ready for the implications of the present situation.
Fortunately, Jack had bundled him into the ambulance for the seemingly endless journey to the hospital, during which he spent the whole time gripping Willem’s hand, as if he might somehow escape from him. The young doctor had wanted to come along too but Marcel persuaded him to stay and enjoy his last night. He’d meant to give him his card with his name, address and phone number on but in all the rush, it had slipped his mind. As the ambulance siren cleared his head, he regretted not being able to thank the Englishman.
‘What a strange world, where you can go out looking for sex and end up saving someone’s life,’ he thought miserably. He hoped he’d meet up with Jack again one day to thank him, he really did. Even in all his panic, Marcel never really thought for a moment that he’d lose Willem. That was out of the question. Willem was as tough as old boots; it’d take more than a heart attack to kill that old sod off. The medics were reassuring too and after they’d reached the hospital and Willem had been whisked off, the nurses sat Marcel down, gave him a cup of coffee and told him everything would be okay and he believed them.
After he’d asked several times to be notified of Willem’s condition and explained that, no, he wasn’t a relative but that he was as good as, he settled down in the chair to wait. His mind drifted back through their years together and especially his own illness. He couldn’t help feeling guilty as he selfishly wondered what he would do without Willem if he fell ill again. Though he felt better and managed a half smile when he recalled Willem saying,
“Ooh! Don’t you worry. I get to play nurse my dear, easily one of my favourite roles,” as he’d changed the soiled sheets yet again, Marcel shivering in semi-delirium at his side. But what had caused this tonight? Where had he disappeared to? Had he done drugs or something in the toilet? The questions without answers raced through his mind as he dozed in the chair and he had the most confusing dreams, in which people from his past had cameo roles alongside what seemed like demons and devils and a strange old black woman, who he felt he should know. He awoke with a start when a doctor gently shook his shoulder.
“Mr. van Ommen.”
“Yes, that’s me. Have you any news?”
The doctor smiled at him and Marcel took it as a good sign.
“Just take your time to wake up. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, no I’m fine and Willem’s fine too isn’t he. When will he be able to go home?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three figures coming down the hallway. One was Jack and the other two he didn’t recognise. Ignoring the doctor for a minute, he got up.
“Hey, Jack. How did you know where to come? It’s great to see you. Thanks so much for what you did, I’m so grateful and I know Willem will be too.”
”We asked the bar staff where you would have gone to and took a chance. So he’s okay then? That’s great news. This guy also knows Willem.”
The taller of the two others stepped forward and introduced himself.
“Jan Harteveld.”
“Mr. van Ommen...” It was the doctor again, tugging at Marcel’s sleeve. “…Could I have a word?”
Marcel excused himself from the group but not before having clearly registered the connection between the two strangers. The other man was darker, a Latin type and there was obviously something between them. Was this the reason…?
The doctor took Marcel into a small room and closed the door.
“Mr. van Ommen, I’m afraid you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. I have some bad news. There was little we could do for your friend. He had a major heart attack, which proved to be fatal. We tried all we could I’m sorry.”
40. Candice sees the light
Candice sat and fiddled with her langoustines as her mother and her friends bitched about the people who hadn’t been invited to the latest soiree. She was so bored and frustrated, she took to dreaming up ways in which to poison all their drinks and then dispose of the bodies but even then, she began thinking about the consequences and getting caught and the scandal. She realised she had been completely reabsorbed into her mother’s cultural bosom even down to the clothes she wore. She’d looked in the mirror before coming downstairs and had seen a middle-aged Jewish matron staring back at her and Amsterdam seemed like a million years ago.
“Candice dear, could you go and hurry Rosetta along with the spiced lemon? We really do rather need it now.”
Without waiting for a reply, Rosalind resumed her conversation with Wilma Jacobs, who as wife of the president of one of Tampa’s oldest real estate companies, was a lady of some significance and needed to be impressed at all costs.
Candice was quite glad of the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere, though resented her mother’s tone. They already had two Guatemalan servants, she was not prepared to become a third but she dutifully got up anyway and headed for the kitchen. Just as she reached the hallway, the phone rang and she picked it up.
“Hallo, Myers residence.”
“Hallo darling.”
It was Roy. Her spirits soared; he hadn’t rung for a few days and she missed his voice but above all, she missed what his call represented which was a link to those few days of freedom she’d had in Amsterdam. He’d already extended his stay by a couple of weeks and that had upset her but it had meant that things with her mother would have time to settle down and Roy wouldn’t be exposed to the third degree when he eventually did return.
“And about time too!” no point in letting him know how much she missed him.
“Sorry but I’ve been so busy. How are you?”
“What sort of a line is that! ‘I’ve been so busy,’ busy doing what? You’ve no idea how I’m starved of news, interesting news. My mother’s slowly choking me to death here. We’re in the middle of one of her soirees at the moment, with all her vulture friends and their talk of the latest surgery they’ve had and how Viagra has rejuvenated their sex lives. I can’t stand it! Ten wrinkled old prunes sitting round a table talking about the latest make up ideas, or fashions, or how their lives have been enriched with seaweed extract, as if anyone cares! They all hate each other anyway but not as much as I hate them. My God Roy, I’m turning into one of them!”
“Ho, hey there, slow down, I get the message.”
Candice took a deep breath and saw with some relief that Rosetta was heading outside laden with plates. This would give her more time to talk to Roy.
“I have got some news as it happens, though you may not like it.”
“What?”
Candice suddenly became guarded and felt panic rising in her stomach.
“Uhm…I’ve got a new flat and I’ve taken out a year’s lease …”
Candice interrupted, “Oh, so you mean we can go back during the year for holidays and stuff?”
“Well, not exactly. I’ve got a proposition for you. I’ve also got a job…well ninety percent certain…with an American Hi-tech company on the outskirts of town. I’ve decided to stay.”
Candice spluttered and felt the colour draining from her cheeks; only her make-up kept her from looking deathly pale. Rosetta looked at her with concern, as she passed and stroked her cheek but Candice waved her away.
“My proposition is this; why don’t you drop everything and come and join me? We can do it for a couple of years and then see how we feel. The flat’s big enough and the rent’s reasonable, although they tend to fleece foreigners here, I think we could manage. You could even get a job yourself. We’d become real people again. How does that sound?”
‘Wonderful,’ thought Candice.
“I don’t know Roy. It’s all a bit sudden. What about our house and things here? What will I tell your work? What will I tell my mother!”
“Well, obviously, you’d have to sell up. We’ll certainly need the money. Just think of it though; from here, we can explore Europe. I’ve spoken to Gerrit and he thinks it’s a great idea.”
Candice felt a chill down her spine at the mention of Gerrit’s name. Clearly he hadn’t said anything to Roy, for which she was eternally grateful.
“…And as for your mother…well stuff her! She has enough money to keep herself chemically alive forever and it’s only a few hours away by plane, it’s not as if you’ll never see her again is it?”
‘No such luck!’ thought Candice. Her whole body tingled in anticipation of Roy’s plan. He was right, she knew it but she was scared again. Being back home in Florida had meant that she had quickly reverted to her normal neuroses and fears.
“What happens if I say no?”
“Then that’s your choice babe but much as I love you, I can breathe here. I can be myself and not be hide-bound by that lifetime of conventions that we’d built up. I’m not coming back.”
“So, it’s an ultimatum then? I either come over there, or I lose you?”
Candice was playing old games. She’d already decided to go.
“I don’t want to look at it that way. I thought that when you were here, we’d established that we are together, come what may and even if we’re physically apart, that doesn’t destroy our love for each other. I want you to do this Candice. I want to spend the rest of my life with you but if you can’t, then you can’t but I have to do this. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I think so. Look, give me a couple of days to get used to the idea and think it through. Ring me on Tuesday evening at the same time. I think I want to join you but I have to make sure it’s for the right reasons, okay?”
“That’s fine, take all the time you need. Meanwhile, I’ll e-mail the details of the flat and the job to our home computer. Oh there’s just one other thing…”
“Candice! Where are you dear? We’re ready for the next course. Are you on the phone? Is that that Gerrit?”
Candice managed to clamp her hand over the mouthpiece as her mother swept into the hallway. Hopefully, Roy hadn’t heard.
“I’ll be right there mother. No, it’s not, it’s Selma.”
Candice had used her best friend’s name many times, for exactly the same reason and she knew Roy would recognise the code.
“I’ve got to go now Selma. Speak to you soon okay?”
Roy grunted and doubted that Candice would ever have the strength to behave normally in front of her mother. He also knew that if she decided to join him, she would have to overcome Rosalind first and for that, he knew she needed time.
“Lots of luck babe. Bye.”
As she put the phone down, she turned to face the woman she was most afraid of in the whole world. Taking another deep breath, she followed her back out to the dinner table.
Roy had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Since the embarrassing episode with Sylvia, he’d been forced to look at himself pretty closely and ask himself what he really wanted out of life. Part of him wanted Candice to stay in Florida, at least for the near future. He didn’t feel as though he’d explored all the possibilities that freedom brought yet. His libido required more adventures but maybe he could still have those, even if Candice did move to Amsterdam. After all, she’d given every indication that everything was negotiable. Another part wanted her desperately. Whatever had happened, she still remained a constant in his life; a familiar person to share things with and his desire for her had been resurrected and he felt sure she felt the same way. One thing he felt sure of though, was that if they were to have a new life together, it had to be away from Tampa. He had sensed from Candice’s tone on the phone over several conversations, that she was slipping back into her old ways and her old style. There was only one person to blame for that and he sincerely wished the old witch an early grave! Either way, he had made a decision and nothing would sway him from that. If Candice came to Amsterdam, all well and good, if she didn’t, well that was fine too. He knew in his heart of hearts that they had a future together some way along the line.
Finding a flat and a job had all been remarkably easy. Various people he’d spoken too had told him that Amsterdam was so crowded that both would be virtually impossible but he’d got talking to an American while taking a walk in the Vondelpark, who was about to return to the States after three years working and living here. He had an apartment with a very amenable Jewish landlord, who didn’t want to go to the trouble and expense of advertising for someone new. It was pure coincidence but it confirmed the idea that had been growing in his head for some while. His luck held out even further when the man suggested that he might as well apply for his job too. The interview had been comfortable and relaxed but it turned out that he was probably overqualified for the position. However, the fact that he was prepared to take a reasonable cut in salary compared to the States, swung it his way and before he knew it and without really trying, he found himself with both a new place to live and a new career. It seemed to Roy that destiny was taking a hand and that he was meant to stay in Amsterdam, just as Sylvia had said before she threw him out.
“You’re what! Are you out of your mind?”
Candice waited patiently for the explosion to subside. She’d sat her mother down and told her straight out, which she’d considered to be extremely brave of herself.
“And I suppose you’ll be shacking up with that toy-boy, or whatever they call these gigolos now?”
“No mother, I’m going to live with Roy, as man and wife. Anyway, you know Gerrit means nothing to me, never did. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because you’re my daughter and I know you. I’ve known you and raised you and cared for you from your diapers to the Chanel creations you keep borrowing from me.”
‘Here we go,’ thought Candice, ‘the emotional blackmail. She conveniently forgets that she virtually begged me to borrow her suits even though they make me look ten years older.’
“And what about me? You know I’m not a well woman. You know I could pass on at any time and then how will you feel, thousands of miles away and your mother dying alone. What sort of a daughter does that to her mother?”
“That’s crap mother and you know it. Half the town will be at your bedside if you fall ill. Plus, you’ve got Lucy and Milt and Mimi and anyway, it’s only seven or eight hours flying time from here; it’s hardly outer space!”
“What a tone. How sharp you’ve become, how cruel. Don’t you think I’d miss you? I’d be worrying about you all the time, living in some hovel in some European city, not eating well, not looking after yourself and all that rain!”
Candice resigned herself to at least another half an hour of this and decided not to argue, except when Rosalind became ridiculous and irrational, which was frequently.
At the end of it, after her mother had retired to her room with ‘a blinding migraine’, she picked up the phone and rang Roy’s cell phone, ahead of the arranged time.
“Roy Myers.”
“Hi, it’s me. I have an answer for you.”
“Okay, break it to me gently.”
“I can’t do it Roy. I just can’t. I don’t have the courage.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Well, aren’t you going to say something?”
“What can I say? You’ve made your decision and I’m very sad.”
In the background, Candice heard her mother making strange noises.
“Hold on a minute, I’ve got to see what’s wrong with mother. I’ll take the phone with me.”
‘Nothing a glass of arsenic wouldn’t fix,’ thought Roy bitterly. His dreams suddenly seemed very flat.
“What is it mother? What’s wrong?”
Candice entered the bedroom to see her mother prone on the bed, in full flowing negligee and a mask over her eyes.
“You’re such a selfish girl. How could you do this to me? Are you deliberately trying to kill me? Shall I take a bottle of pills and have done with it? Will that satisfy you?”
Candice looked at her for a full minute before putting the phone to her ear.
“Roy? Cancel that. I’ll be out next week. See you then.”
She considered something corny, like drenching her mother with the contents of the jug of water from the bedside table; she was her mother’s daughter after all; dramatic gestures came with the position but instead she contented herself with her best Bette Davis sneer, turned on her heel and marched triumphantly out of the room.
Marcel stared glumly into his glass and wished he’d never asked about Jan. Willem had sat him down two hours ago and had talked non-stop ever since about the new love of his life. Not that he wasn’t pleased; by all accounts, this Jan seemed to be heaven-sent and he was pleased for his friend but you could have too much of a good thing and Willem was beginning to repeat himself.
“Yes, you said,” was his weary reply to the latest anecdote, slightly embellished from the first version.
“Oops! Am I boring you? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
”I am happy for you Willem, I truly am but I’m beginning to have an unhealthily detailed knowledge of this guy, from the Gucci sweaters to the mole on his dick. Please, leave a little for me to find out, otherwise I’ll burst out laughing when I meet him.”
“Okay fine, point taken. Anyway, I haven’t asked about your love life. Have you solved all the mysteries of the vagina yet?”
Marcel took his opportunity and filled in the main details of New Year’s Eve and its aftermath.
“You mean you haven’t rung either of them?”
“They haven’t rung me either. I’m just as well pleased actually. It’s all too complicated. It was nice; well, nice, an experience but I don’t think any of us are keen to repeat it. It was a sort of one-off thing you know; amazing at the time but…”
“So what are you going to do now? Look, if I can find Mr. Right, I’m sure you can. You’re not going to sit in your flat and sulk are you? I know you Marcel; you’ll hibernate and go all introspective until you work it out of your system. There’s a whole world out there, go and explore it.”
“Oh balls Willem! The whole world out there is Amsterdam remember. We’ve been there, done it and it’s a very small world.”
“So go on holiday, or go and find some tourists. There’s always a plentiful supply of them around.”
I could go on holiday; I’ve got plenty owed to me but I hate going on holiday on my own, you know that. As for the tourists, they’re only here for one thing and you can hardly build anything from a fling in a darkroom can you?”
“Is that what you’re looking for then, to build something, a relationship? Don’t underestimate the qualities of good anonymous sex my dear; very therapeutic.”
“Well you should know!”
Marcel could have bitten his tongue as he saw the hurt look on Willem’s face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Anyway, it never comes if you’re looking for it, does it. No, I’ll just drift along for a while and see what happens.”
“ No great life-changes there then,” noted Willem sarcastically, “Okay, that’s it. We’re going out tonight. We’ll hit the bars and have a laugh at all the queens in fancy dress, just like we did in the old days. I’m not married yet, I can still go out can’t I? Anyway, I’ll have my own personal chaperone won’t I?”
“I’m not really in the mood…”
“Nonsense. Come on, go and get your glad rags on, I’ll ring your bell in half an hour.”
Marcel knew there was no arguing with him and after another futile attempt at protest, made his way half-heartedly to his own flat to get changed. He could always come away early if it got to be too much.
Because it was still only early, they decided to go to the Amstel to see if there was any atmosphere to be found before the more serious bars later on. This area was famous for its sing along bars, playing old Dutch music and its general bonhomie but in these dark days after New Year, it all seemed a bit flat. They nursed their beers in a corner and watched as a few hairdresser types from the provinces jigged around to the Abba records and screamed insults at each other. Even Willem’s natural exuberance was muted.
“This is awful. I can’t believe how things have changed around here. Weekends used to be so much fun, guaranteed to get you in the mood but this…”
“Well, it’s still early.” Marcel tried to find an excuse but he too wished he’d followed his instinct and stayed at home.
“Let’s move on. I’m not giving up yet. Let’s try the Kerkstraat.”
Reluctantly, Marcel followed Willem out and hands in pockets and collars up against the wind, the two friends threaded their way through the streets.
The Kerkstraat was as dead as the Amstel and Marcel had had enough but Willem insisted they try another area and they ended up in a bar for the younger set in the Reguliersdwarsstraat.
“Happy now? Have you seen enough yet?”
Marcel was becoming positively morose and decided to resist all attempts at moving them on.
“Oh go on, one more drink. It all looks better under the influence. Here, have a joint; it’ll mellow you out a bit. I may soon have to give all this up. Oh God, I hope so. I don’t think Jan’s into any of this but I can’t say I’ll miss it.”
Willem was already at the bar, so Marcel drew deeply and waited for the effect to kick in. Whether he was particularly receptive that night, or because he was in a certain frame of mind, he failed to register that Willem had suddenly darted off towards the back of the room.
“I know this sounds cheeky and I don’t mind if you say no but can I buy you a drink?”
Marcel looked up to find a young, fair-haired man looking down at him, smiling sheepishly and blinking nervously.
‘He looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights,’ thought Marcel, ‘Cute in a preppy sort of way, probably English.’
He looked around quickly but there was no sign of Willem.
“Well, my friend’s around somewhere and he’s supposed to be getting the drinks but oh…why not? Sure, I’d like a beer please.”
“I’m not interrupting anything am I? I’ll go if I am. Only, I saw your friend leave and wondered if it would be okay. I don’t usually do this sort of thing…well, I’m not very good at it anyway.”
“No, that’s fine. Willem and I are just friends, it’s no problem.”
“Okay then, a beer you said?”
Marcel watched as he went to the bar and switched into his well-practised and automatic appraisal of potential partners.
‘Nice body,’ he thought, ‘Muscular but not over trained like so many of them. Nice face too. Well, why not? Willem’s done his disappearing act again and I don’t see why I should sit here like a lemon.’
“Here we are then. I’m Jack by the way. I’m from London.”
“I’m Marcel, pleased to meet you, how long are you here for?”
“I go back tomorrow unfortunately but I come over here quite often.”
For the next ten minutes or so, they indulged in the sort of tourist-meets-local chat with which Marcel was very familiar. He didn’t mind, he liked talking to tourists, even though conversations tended to follow exactly the same lines each time, at least until you got to know them better. This guy was very pleasant, a bit over-talkative and not obviously intelligent but friendly enough. Despite his earlier misgivings about the evening, Marcel began to think about the prospect of it going further. Fortunately, Jack was going back the next day, so it would be pretty much accepted as a one-night stand and as he was giving off all the right signals, Marcel began to cheer up. The mood was short-lived however. Just as Jack and Marcel had got to the stage where knees were accidentally touching and glances were a touch longer and more lingering, Willem came back.
Although he saw him return out of the corner of his eye, Marcel ignored him at first and deliberately continued talking to Jack. He was irritated at Willem’s comings and goings; now he could wait. It was only when he saw the concerned look on Jack’s face that he turned around.
“I don’t think your friend’s very well.”
It was true. Willem’s face looked white as a sheet and he was clutching his chest. Marcel leapt of his chair.
“What is it? What’s the matter with you? You look terrible.”
Willem couldn’t answer. It was clear he was having trouble breathing and he slowly sank to his knees.
“Willem!” Marcel panicked. This was not one of Willem’s party tricks; this was for real and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Luckily, Jack took on a whole new dimension and briskly took charge.
“I’m a doctor, don’t worry. Give me your jacket and then stand back a little to give him some air.”
After swearing never to take anybody at face-value again and thanking God for Jack, Marcel felt tears running down his face and cursed Willem for having given him that joint. He then knelt down at a safe distance to watch Jack examine his best and only true friend.
“Can you call for an ambulance? Quickly! This man’s having a heart attack!”
The bar staff, to their credit moved like lightning and cleared the area of the curious onlookers who had slowly gathered around. Marcel stood trembling and pale in the midst of the crowd. He couldn’t imagine life without Willem; the most irritating and obnoxious man he’d ever known but also the most faithful and giving. He and Willem had so much history between them, so much happiness and so much despair and he wasn’t ready for the implications of the present situation.
Fortunately, Jack had bundled him into the ambulance for the seemingly endless journey to the hospital, during which he spent the whole time gripping Willem’s hand, as if he might somehow escape from him. The young doctor had wanted to come along too but Marcel persuaded him to stay and enjoy his last night. He’d meant to give him his card with his name, address and phone number on but in all the rush, it had slipped his mind. As the ambulance siren cleared his head, he regretted not being able to thank the Englishman.
‘What a strange world, where you can go out looking for sex and end up saving someone’s life,’ he thought miserably. He hoped he’d meet up with Jack again one day to thank him, he really did. Even in all his panic, Marcel never really thought for a moment that he’d lose Willem. That was out of the question. Willem was as tough as old boots; it’d take more than a heart attack to kill that old sod off. The medics were reassuring too and after they’d reached the hospital and Willem had been whisked off, the nurses sat Marcel down, gave him a cup of coffee and told him everything would be okay and he believed them.
After he’d asked several times to be notified of Willem’s condition and explained that, no, he wasn’t a relative but that he was as good as, he settled down in the chair to wait. His mind drifted back through their years together and especially his own illness. He couldn’t help feeling guilty as he selfishly wondered what he would do without Willem if he fell ill again. Though he felt better and managed a half smile when he recalled Willem saying,
“Ooh! Don’t you worry. I get to play nurse my dear, easily one of my favourite roles,” as he’d changed the soiled sheets yet again, Marcel shivering in semi-delirium at his side. But what had caused this tonight? Where had he disappeared to? Had he done drugs or something in the toilet? The questions without answers raced through his mind as he dozed in the chair and he had the most confusing dreams, in which people from his past had cameo roles alongside what seemed like demons and devils and a strange old black woman, who he felt he should know. He awoke with a start when a doctor gently shook his shoulder.
“Mr. van Ommen.”
“Yes, that’s me. Have you any news?”
The doctor smiled at him and Marcel took it as a good sign.
“Just take your time to wake up. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, no I’m fine and Willem’s fine too isn’t he. When will he be able to go home?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three figures coming down the hallway. One was Jack and the other two he didn’t recognise. Ignoring the doctor for a minute, he got up.
“Hey, Jack. How did you know where to come? It’s great to see you. Thanks so much for what you did, I’m so grateful and I know Willem will be too.”
”We asked the bar staff where you would have gone to and took a chance. So he’s okay then? That’s great news. This guy also knows Willem.”
The taller of the two others stepped forward and introduced himself.
“Jan Harteveld.”
“Mr. van Ommen...” It was the doctor again, tugging at Marcel’s sleeve. “…Could I have a word?”
Marcel excused himself from the group but not before having clearly registered the connection between the two strangers. The other man was darker, a Latin type and there was obviously something between them. Was this the reason…?
The doctor took Marcel into a small room and closed the door.
“Mr. van Ommen, I’m afraid you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. I have some bad news. There was little we could do for your friend. He had a major heart attack, which proved to be fatal. We tried all we could I’m sorry.”
40. Candice sees the light
Candice sat and fiddled with her langoustines as her mother and her friends bitched about the people who hadn’t been invited to the latest soiree. She was so bored and frustrated, she took to dreaming up ways in which to poison all their drinks and then dispose of the bodies but even then, she began thinking about the consequences and getting caught and the scandal. She realised she had been completely reabsorbed into her mother’s cultural bosom even down to the clothes she wore. She’d looked in the mirror before coming downstairs and had seen a middle-aged Jewish matron staring back at her and Amsterdam seemed like a million years ago.
“Candice dear, could you go and hurry Rosetta along with the spiced lemon? We really do rather need it now.”
Without waiting for a reply, Rosalind resumed her conversation with Wilma Jacobs, who as wife of the president of one of Tampa’s oldest real estate companies, was a lady of some significance and needed to be impressed at all costs.
Candice was quite glad of the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere, though resented her mother’s tone. They already had two Guatemalan servants, she was not prepared to become a third but she dutifully got up anyway and headed for the kitchen. Just as she reached the hallway, the phone rang and she picked it up.
“Hallo, Myers residence.”
“Hallo darling.”
It was Roy. Her spirits soared; he hadn’t rung for a few days and she missed his voice but above all, she missed what his call represented which was a link to those few days of freedom she’d had in Amsterdam. He’d already extended his stay by a couple of weeks and that had upset her but it had meant that things with her mother would have time to settle down and Roy wouldn’t be exposed to the third degree when he eventually did return.
“And about time too!” no point in letting him know how much she missed him.
“Sorry but I’ve been so busy. How are you?”
“What sort of a line is that! ‘I’ve been so busy,’ busy doing what? You’ve no idea how I’m starved of news, interesting news. My mother’s slowly choking me to death here. We’re in the middle of one of her soirees at the moment, with all her vulture friends and their talk of the latest surgery they’ve had and how Viagra has rejuvenated their sex lives. I can’t stand it! Ten wrinkled old prunes sitting round a table talking about the latest make up ideas, or fashions, or how their lives have been enriched with seaweed extract, as if anyone cares! They all hate each other anyway but not as much as I hate them. My God Roy, I’m turning into one of them!”
“Ho, hey there, slow down, I get the message.”
Candice took a deep breath and saw with some relief that Rosetta was heading outside laden with plates. This would give her more time to talk to Roy.
“I have got some news as it happens, though you may not like it.”
“What?”
Candice suddenly became guarded and felt panic rising in her stomach.
“Uhm…I’ve got a new flat and I’ve taken out a year’s lease …”
Candice interrupted, “Oh, so you mean we can go back during the year for holidays and stuff?”
“Well, not exactly. I’ve got a proposition for you. I’ve also got a job…well ninety percent certain…with an American Hi-tech company on the outskirts of town. I’ve decided to stay.”
Candice spluttered and felt the colour draining from her cheeks; only her make-up kept her from looking deathly pale. Rosetta looked at her with concern, as she passed and stroked her cheek but Candice waved her away.
“My proposition is this; why don’t you drop everything and come and join me? We can do it for a couple of years and then see how we feel. The flat’s big enough and the rent’s reasonable, although they tend to fleece foreigners here, I think we could manage. You could even get a job yourself. We’d become real people again. How does that sound?”
‘Wonderful,’ thought Candice.
“I don’t know Roy. It’s all a bit sudden. What about our house and things here? What will I tell your work? What will I tell my mother!”
“Well, obviously, you’d have to sell up. We’ll certainly need the money. Just think of it though; from here, we can explore Europe. I’ve spoken to Gerrit and he thinks it’s a great idea.”
Candice felt a chill down her spine at the mention of Gerrit’s name. Clearly he hadn’t said anything to Roy, for which she was eternally grateful.
“…And as for your mother…well stuff her! She has enough money to keep herself chemically alive forever and it’s only a few hours away by plane, it’s not as if you’ll never see her again is it?”
‘No such luck!’ thought Candice. Her whole body tingled in anticipation of Roy’s plan. He was right, she knew it but she was scared again. Being back home in Florida had meant that she had quickly reverted to her normal neuroses and fears.
“What happens if I say no?”
“Then that’s your choice babe but much as I love you, I can breathe here. I can be myself and not be hide-bound by that lifetime of conventions that we’d built up. I’m not coming back.”
“So, it’s an ultimatum then? I either come over there, or I lose you?”
Candice was playing old games. She’d already decided to go.
“I don’t want to look at it that way. I thought that when you were here, we’d established that we are together, come what may and even if we’re physically apart, that doesn’t destroy our love for each other. I want you to do this Candice. I want to spend the rest of my life with you but if you can’t, then you can’t but I have to do this. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I think so. Look, give me a couple of days to get used to the idea and think it through. Ring me on Tuesday evening at the same time. I think I want to join you but I have to make sure it’s for the right reasons, okay?”
“That’s fine, take all the time you need. Meanwhile, I’ll e-mail the details of the flat and the job to our home computer. Oh there’s just one other thing…”
“Candice! Where are you dear? We’re ready for the next course. Are you on the phone? Is that that Gerrit?”
Candice managed to clamp her hand over the mouthpiece as her mother swept into the hallway. Hopefully, Roy hadn’t heard.
“I’ll be right there mother. No, it’s not, it’s Selma.”
Candice had used her best friend’s name many times, for exactly the same reason and she knew Roy would recognise the code.
“I’ve got to go now Selma. Speak to you soon okay?”
Roy grunted and doubted that Candice would ever have the strength to behave normally in front of her mother. He also knew that if she decided to join him, she would have to overcome Rosalind first and for that, he knew she needed time.
“Lots of luck babe. Bye.”
As she put the phone down, she turned to face the woman she was most afraid of in the whole world. Taking another deep breath, she followed her back out to the dinner table.
Roy had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Since the embarrassing episode with Sylvia, he’d been forced to look at himself pretty closely and ask himself what he really wanted out of life. Part of him wanted Candice to stay in Florida, at least for the near future. He didn’t feel as though he’d explored all the possibilities that freedom brought yet. His libido required more adventures but maybe he could still have those, even if Candice did move to Amsterdam. After all, she’d given every indication that everything was negotiable. Another part wanted her desperately. Whatever had happened, she still remained a constant in his life; a familiar person to share things with and his desire for her had been resurrected and he felt sure she felt the same way. One thing he felt sure of though, was that if they were to have a new life together, it had to be away from Tampa. He had sensed from Candice’s tone on the phone over several conversations, that she was slipping back into her old ways and her old style. There was only one person to blame for that and he sincerely wished the old witch an early grave! Either way, he had made a decision and nothing would sway him from that. If Candice came to Amsterdam, all well and good, if she didn’t, well that was fine too. He knew in his heart of hearts that they had a future together some way along the line.
Finding a flat and a job had all been remarkably easy. Various people he’d spoken too had told him that Amsterdam was so crowded that both would be virtually impossible but he’d got talking to an American while taking a walk in the Vondelpark, who was about to return to the States after three years working and living here. He had an apartment with a very amenable Jewish landlord, who didn’t want to go to the trouble and expense of advertising for someone new. It was pure coincidence but it confirmed the idea that had been growing in his head for some while. His luck held out even further when the man suggested that he might as well apply for his job too. The interview had been comfortable and relaxed but it turned out that he was probably overqualified for the position. However, the fact that he was prepared to take a reasonable cut in salary compared to the States, swung it his way and before he knew it and without really trying, he found himself with both a new place to live and a new career. It seemed to Roy that destiny was taking a hand and that he was meant to stay in Amsterdam, just as Sylvia had said before she threw him out.
“You’re what! Are you out of your mind?”
Candice waited patiently for the explosion to subside. She’d sat her mother down and told her straight out, which she’d considered to be extremely brave of herself.
“And I suppose you’ll be shacking up with that toy-boy, or whatever they call these gigolos now?”
“No mother, I’m going to live with Roy, as man and wife. Anyway, you know Gerrit means nothing to me, never did. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because you’re my daughter and I know you. I’ve known you and raised you and cared for you from your diapers to the Chanel creations you keep borrowing from me.”
‘Here we go,’ thought Candice, ‘the emotional blackmail. She conveniently forgets that she virtually begged me to borrow her suits even though they make me look ten years older.’
“And what about me? You know I’m not a well woman. You know I could pass on at any time and then how will you feel, thousands of miles away and your mother dying alone. What sort of a daughter does that to her mother?”
“That’s crap mother and you know it. Half the town will be at your bedside if you fall ill. Plus, you’ve got Lucy and Milt and Mimi and anyway, it’s only seven or eight hours flying time from here; it’s hardly outer space!”
“What a tone. How sharp you’ve become, how cruel. Don’t you think I’d miss you? I’d be worrying about you all the time, living in some hovel in some European city, not eating well, not looking after yourself and all that rain!”
Candice resigned herself to at least another half an hour of this and decided not to argue, except when Rosalind became ridiculous and irrational, which was frequently.
At the end of it, after her mother had retired to her room with ‘a blinding migraine’, she picked up the phone and rang Roy’s cell phone, ahead of the arranged time.
“Roy Myers.”
“Hi, it’s me. I have an answer for you.”
“Okay, break it to me gently.”
“I can’t do it Roy. I just can’t. I don’t have the courage.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Well, aren’t you going to say something?”
“What can I say? You’ve made your decision and I’m very sad.”
In the background, Candice heard her mother making strange noises.
“Hold on a minute, I’ve got to see what’s wrong with mother. I’ll take the phone with me.”
‘Nothing a glass of arsenic wouldn’t fix,’ thought Roy bitterly. His dreams suddenly seemed very flat.
“What is it mother? What’s wrong?”
Candice entered the bedroom to see her mother prone on the bed, in full flowing negligee and a mask over her eyes.
“You’re such a selfish girl. How could you do this to me? Are you deliberately trying to kill me? Shall I take a bottle of pills and have done with it? Will that satisfy you?”
Candice looked at her for a full minute before putting the phone to her ear.
“Roy? Cancel that. I’ll be out next week. See you then.”
She considered something corny, like drenching her mother with the contents of the jug of water from the bedside table; she was her mother’s daughter after all; dramatic gestures came with the position but instead she contented herself with her best Bette Davis sneer, turned on her heel and marched triumphantly out of the room.
41. Elfriede has a job to do
Laetitia wrapped her arms tightly around Elfriede as if to shut out the world and all its pain. The police had gone, the ambulance, with the body hidden from view in a plastic zip-up case had gone and Elfriede stood there trembling, rubbing her hands and looking as lost and lonely as anyone could. Normally, Laetitia wouldn’t approach within a metre of Elfriede, far less embrace her but this was a soul in need and for once she didn’t care about her dress, or Elfriede’s smell, or the fact that Beest, who Elfriede was cradling, came between the two of them. It was only after the dog squealed at being suffocated that she managed to prise him away from his mistress and put him gently onto the floor.
“There, there. It’ll be alright. There was nothing you could have done. The doctor said it was a massive stroke and she would have felt no pain.”
Elfriede heard her words and was confused. Where were all the cuts and scratches? Where was the fatal wound on Valentine’s neck? How could he say it was a stroke? After some thought, she could only assume that these things didn’t materialise in the physical world and although they had been real enough to kill her friend on the spiritual plane, she had died of simpler causes in her Bijlmer flat.
She felt faint and sick and she wanted time on her own to examine her feelings but she knew things had to be done; so much had to be arranged.
“Laetitia, what am I going to do? Valentine needs to have a funeral. She needs singers, she needs prayer tellers, we need food, we need drink and we need a place. I have no money…”
She felt herself becoming hysterical. It was her fault that Valentine had died and she had done nothing to protect her. More sins on her conscience, more reasons for the gods to despise her. She had allowed her friend to sacrifice herself, for what? So that she could continue her miserable existence? Continue to fail the people she was meant to be helping? Not since those dark days in the psychiatric hospital had Elfriede felt so helpless and so unhappy.
“Now you listen to me Elfriede Urmi…” Laetitia used her birth name sharply, in order to get through to her. “…You weren’t Valentine’s only friend you know. She knew dozens of people around here. There is a community here. Just because you chose to step out of it and live your own strange life, doesn’t mean that Valentine was on her own; far from it, she was loved and respected by so many. We will organise everything don’t you worry. Oh child, don’t cry. Nobody will blame you and you will be welcomed by everyone; we Surinamers look after our own, you of all people should know that.”
Elfriede extracted herself from Laetitia’s embrace and held her at a distance.
“You’re a good soul Laetitia but I must do something. Valentine needs the right funeral, the right songs, the right dances and the right prayers. It must be traditional; it must be according to the old ways. I don’t know, is that possible in Amsterdam? Won’t they insist on a Christian burial?”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, Valentine was Christian, don’t forget that but I do know she liked to mix and match her gods, depending on what sort of crisis she felt she was going through and I know you and her had a lot of faith in the Wintis. You knew her better in that respect. I went to a funeral last year and it was a sort of mix but I think she should be cremated don’t you? Listen, I’ll speak to people and find out what’s involved. You’ve got to stop worrying and what’s more, you’re staying with me until this is over. I’m not having you wandering the streets in your present state. No, no, no argument! That’s final.”
“I don’t know what to say, I haven’t stayed in a real home for so long and you know how I feel about it but maybe it’s for the best, for a little while anyway. I feel so weak at the moment. Oh, by the way, I need to go and see Alfons.”
“The Winti healer? Why? Oh well, perhaps I shouldn’t ask. You know I don’t go in for much of that stuff but it’s up to you. Ooh, I’ve just had a thought; don’t you think we should look around and see if Valentine had a will, or some sort of indication what she wanted and don’t look at me like that. I’m insulted, how could you think I’d be interested in whether she had any money or not?”
Laetitia stood back, hands on her hips and glared at Elfriede, who laughed for what seemed to be the first time in days.
“Laetitia, there you go again. It has always been your biggest fault, jumping to conclusions. Of course I didn’t think anything of the sort, I was just surprised that’s all. Of course, it’s the obvious thing to do but doesn’t it feel wrong, to invade someone’s privacy like that?”
“Listen my dear, she has no family as far as I know. We are the closest thing she has to family. It’s our duty and what’s more, we have to sort out the flat and everything sooner or later. It’s not nice but it has to be done.”
“Actually, you’ve just given me an idea. Much as I am grateful for your offer, I think I’ll stay here for a few days. It will give me the chance to sort out her things and I can be on my own; you know how I prefer that. I hope you’re not offended?”
”Mm, well, yes, okay but I will be coming round often to check that you’re alright and you won’t go short of food and I’ll find you some new clothes and…”
“Stop, stop, you’re overwhelming me with kindness but it’s logical yes?
Elfriede was relieved that she’d found a solution that suited them both. She knew that she couldn’t stand Laetitia’s mothering and her family for long, it would be too claustrophobic. This way, she could have the time to make her peace with Valentine and to make sense of it all, without disturbance.
The two contrasting women began going through drawers and opening boxes, occasionally coming together to discuss this item or that but generally doing their work in silence. Like many people of her generation, Valentine had accumulated countless small but intrinsically valueless objects, pieces of china or glass, which clearly had sentimental value but would end up being thrown out or given to the junk shop. Elfriede was glad she had abandoned material possessions long ago.
‘All this stuff!’ she thought ‘and for what? Ah well, if she got pleasure from it but it tells you nothing about the woman herself, so sad.’
Laetitia came across a small inlaid, enamel box containing nearly seven hundred guilders. She looked at Elfriede questioningly.
“Oh take it. Use it for the funeral. Who would know? It would please her to know she could help anyway. I’m going to look under the bed, I bet she has her papers there.”
Sure enough, stuffed to a far corner underneath the bed was a battered leather briefcase containing all they wanted to know. After carefully going through the assorted documents, Laetitia sighed.
“Well, she didn’t have any insurances as far as I can see or any savings, well, not official ones anyway. It’s so sad what a life amounts to, isn’t it? There are lots of people to inform and maybe she has some sort of pension, I don’t understand it all. I’ll take everything to Bernard and he can check for sure and I’ll see the people at the community centre about the funeral. They’ll also know about what you have to do when someone dies without any family. There’s much more to do than you think, I’m going to call in as much help as I can get but you mustn’t worry about the paperwork dear. If you’re staying here, maybe you can sort out her personal belongings into what needs to be thrown out and what can be given away, all that sort of thing. Would that be okay?”
”Of course…” mumbled Elfriede, “…come and look at these.”
She had found two Albert Hein bags stuffed full of photographs and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, picking them out one by one, tears running down her cheeks. Laetitia squatted down beside her and for the next half an hour, they laughed and cried as they looked through the memories of a life, from the colour photos of the Community Centre Christmas party of a short time ago, to the fading black and white and even sepia pictures with curling edges, of a life back in Surinam that they had all but forgotten.
Several hours later, after Laetitia had been and gone for the second time, bringing a complete meal for both her and Beest, Elfriede sat in Valentine’s chair and closed her eyes. She needed to think. Everything had happened so quickly and she felt completely out of control of her own feelings. She also knew that if she was out of control, she was vulnerable to the same evil that had attacked her before. She decided that she needed to perform a ritual to restore her strength and reinvigorate her spiritual power. Without that, she wouldn’t be able to complete her tasks and she would lose everything. Next, she convinced herself not to panic. Providing she took the right steps, she would recover. Then she thought of the people whose lives she had set out to influence. She had no idea what had happened to them. Apart from a vague feeling that something serious had happened to Carolien and something worse to Marcel, there was no contact, no trace of their Kras in her subconscious and she worried that there would be yet more serious repercussions arising from her clash with the Dresi-man. That would need more prayers, more ritual and more special ingredients. Again, she panicked. She had no money to buy what she needed. Everything was available in the market, or from the Winti healer but at a price! She got up and searched Valentine’s flat again, fear rising in her stomach. It was absolutely essential that she acquired the correct items for ritual; nothing would work without the offerings. Apart from a few loose coins, there was nothing more to be found. She didn’t want to go to Laetitia again, she knew they would need every guilder to pay for a funeral with any meaning. It was no good, she’d have to go to Alfons herself and throw herself on his mercy.
Despite her life on the streets, she normally prided herself on being a healthy woman with nearly always enough strength and energy to get from one day to the next but as she made her way through the flat blocks and fought against the wind, she felt absolutely drained. Every step was difficult and it seemed that every bone in her body protested at having to be moved again. She stroked the dog’s head absent-mindedly but her thoughts were in turmoil as she realised how serious her situation was. Knowing that her only salvation lay in the old ways, she forced herself to walk on. Beest had snuggled down into the basket under a cloth, having licked her until his tongue was sore. He had sensed that all was not well with his beloved mistress but apart from letting her know that he cared, there was little else he could do, so he had decided not to be a burden and had fallen fast asleep.
“So, you’ve come to see me after all these years Elfriede? From the look of you, it’s clear your visit is not a social call.”
“Alfons, I wouldn’t have come unless I absolutely had to. I know you have no reason to greet me warmly and I know I disappeared when you needed me most all those years ago but there were reasons, very good reasons and all out of my control.”
She sat down on the hard wooden school chair he had offered and looked at the man who had begged her for help to save his daughter all that time ago. She hadn’t been herself though. It was just before she’d been taken away to the hospital but she did remember turning him down and she did remember that together they might have been able to rescue poor Amelie from madness but she’d been on the brink of madness herself. She began to regret having come. What had given her the idea that this man might help her?
“I know more than you think Elfriede. I know now what happened to you at that time and I understand that there was little you could have done to help my daughter or me. I hated you then, I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t…Oh, what’s the point? I was a father consumed with grief; you understand that don’t you? But now there are none of those feelings left. All I see in front of me is a broken woman and a woman who needs me. Well, I’m not going insane. As far as I know, there are no men in white coats waiting to imprison me in a mental hospital, so I’ll do what I can. What do you need from me? From my dabblings in the spirit world, I have some idea of what you have been going through but none of the details. I have the feeling that I need to help you and I always trust my strongest intuitions, so tell me what you wish to tell me and I’ll see what I can do.”
Elfriede grasped his hand and kissed it.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am Alfons and how truly, truly sorry I am that I couldn’t help you in your hour of need.”
She then proceeded to give an outline of what had happened to her and what she needed to put things right. As she talked, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Sacred Anana, I never realised! Of course I’ll help. I have almost everything here and what I don’t have, we can get from the market. I would also be honoured if you would let me assist you with the rituals. I can also fetch Ronald, he’s a proper Winti healer you know.”
“No, no. Your help will be just fine. I don’t think the Wintis are prepared to help me; in fact I’m sure they won’t. I have to do this on my own. I should also tell you that there might be some risk involved, not from the rituals themselves but from the evil spirits who will not approve of your helping me.”
“Ha, what do I care? Somehow, I don’t think the great powers will bother themselves with such small fry as me do you? Come now, we’d better get started.”
Elfriede wasn’t so sure but her need was so great that she dismissed any doubts she may have had.
It was dark again before she felt satisfied that they’d performed the rituals properly and she walked back through the streets with considerably more courage and self-belief than when she’d arrived. Some disconcerting things had happened though. Alfons had helped her with the cleansing ceremony and she had stood in his cold, tiled shower as he poured the carefully prepared mixture over her and begged the gods of Africa to hear her requests. She’d rubbed and scrubbed herself until her skin was raw, as she knew she must and he’d lashed her with the twigs and herbs until she felt completely clean but then he’d gone into trance. She hadn’t expected it and afterwards Alfons confessed to being astonished it had happened. His voice had become deep and growling and she found herself confronted by an ancient being, a true African spirit. The cockerel that had been running about the shower had pecked her foot until it bled profusely and then had keeled over and died on the spot. At that moment she felt fear again but she needn’t have worried. This spirit sounded terrifying but only had kind words for her and had promised to help restore both her strength and her powers. As Alfons’ eyes had rolled in his head, the spirit also told her that Valentine’s body should be returned to its land of birth, to Surinam in fact. She’d told him, whilst properly observing the protocol and declaring herself unworthy before every new request, that it would be almost impossible to do that. Valentine had nobody there who would receive the body and what was more, the expense was prohibitive. The spirit knew or cared little for maters of money and told her that Valentine’s forefathers would receive the body. If it didn’t happen, then Valentine’s soul would probably never rest and she would be destined to wander the blackness of purgatory forever. Elfriede told him, she would see what she could do and resolved to talk to Laetitia about it later but held out little hope.
“You are unique,” the spirit told her, “…you have caused a split amongst the gods, the spirits and your ancestors. There are many who oppose you but some who support you and because of that, your life on earth is only the beginning of your struggles. When you die, it will continue, for you will have to justify your chosen path to so many. For that reason, I will help you now, for I see the destiny you have chosen for yourself has merit and is courageous but beware for your enemies are everywhere.”
”Oh spirit, I am truly unworthy of your help but will be happy in this life if I can complete the tasks I have set for myself.”
Just then, Alfons shuddered and collapsed into her arms, panting loudly. She hugged him with renewed strength and began to feel a growing joy at being alive. Beest wandered into the shower room and sniffed at the dead cockerel, before lifting his leg and peeing over its head. Satisfied, he wandered out again to explore the plate of biscuits on the table.
After Valentine’s funeral, Elfriede found herself once again, needing to perform a ceremony. She knew she had to leave her friend’s flat the next day as Valentine’s rent ran out then and new tenants had already been to inspect the place, so it was important that she completed this ritual as quickly as possible.
The funeral had been wonderful, far better than Elfriede had ever dreamed. The community, under Laetitia’s firm guidance, had really pulled together and provided a fitting send off. There had been at least fifty people there and the generosity and the spirit had overwhelmed Elfriede. She had forgotten what it was to be a Surinamer amongst Surinamers and although she had tried to hide herself at the back of the hall, she had quickly been drawn into the singing and the embraces of so many people condoling her and each other. Everything was white of course and Valentine looked beautiful in her coffin, ‘like an angel surrounded by angels,’ Elfriede thought happily. The only nagging doubt at the back of her mind was the fact that she hadn’t been able to persuade Laetitia and her friends that Valentine should return to Surinam. It was a problem she would have to give some attention to in the near future. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friend’s spirit wandering aimlessly and without rest. There had even been a choir there, singing special Afro-Surinamer mourning songs and prayer readers and people who went into trance to ask Valentine’s ancestors to receive her kindly. There had been an extensive buffet and dancing and a Kaseko band for afterwards, which Elfriede had missed because she had gone with those few people really close to Valentine, to the crematorium. All in all, she was overjoyed and couldn’t thank Laetitia enough.
“Oh it’s nothing my dear. Doesn’t it make you want to come back to us and live with us all again? Haven’t you had enough of wandering the streets now? You see how people welcome you; don’t you want that permanently? Come and stay with the family and me until you get a place of your own.”
Elfriede had politely declined. She was tempted; she had to admit. She had missed all this but she knew she had work to do and she knew she could only do it without the distractions of material life. She wasn’t seeking comfort.
After some difficulty, partly because Beest insisted on having a few moments of madness, running back and forth across the carpet at high speed, Elfriede’s vision began to appear and she was able to seek out the people who mattered to her most.
It gave her a shock to see what had happened to them all.
“Not a moment too soon!” she said to herself. “There’s much work to be done.”
She saw the broken relationships and the unhappiness and how people were drifting back to their old insecurities. She worried about Carolien but could see the solution. She smiled at Candice and determined not to underestimate her again. She grieved for Willem and felt Marcel’s loss. ‘Another one I failed to protect and another one not on my list. I have been such a fool, to think I could play God. It was such a vanity and just because of my own stubbornness. I didn’t realise that throwing the pebble in the water would cause so many ripples but I can put this right, I can!’
She spent many hours, long into the night, examining their lives and what had happened to them and working out ways to repair the damage her absence had caused. She had no choice, she’d started this and she had to finish it.
“Right Elfriede Urmi Christiaanse! Tomorrow is another day and tomorrow we get right back to work, isn’t that right Beest?”
At the sound of his name, the dog looked at her pleadingly. He’d long since worked out that this could result in some sort of reward. When it only resulted in a scratch of the ears and a far-away look in Elfriede’s eyes, he went back to the eternal nibble for fleas.
Laetitia wrapped her arms tightly around Elfriede as if to shut out the world and all its pain. The police had gone, the ambulance, with the body hidden from view in a plastic zip-up case had gone and Elfriede stood there trembling, rubbing her hands and looking as lost and lonely as anyone could. Normally, Laetitia wouldn’t approach within a metre of Elfriede, far less embrace her but this was a soul in need and for once she didn’t care about her dress, or Elfriede’s smell, or the fact that Beest, who Elfriede was cradling, came between the two of them. It was only after the dog squealed at being suffocated that she managed to prise him away from his mistress and put him gently onto the floor.
“There, there. It’ll be alright. There was nothing you could have done. The doctor said it was a massive stroke and she would have felt no pain.”
Elfriede heard her words and was confused. Where were all the cuts and scratches? Where was the fatal wound on Valentine’s neck? How could he say it was a stroke? After some thought, she could only assume that these things didn’t materialise in the physical world and although they had been real enough to kill her friend on the spiritual plane, she had died of simpler causes in her Bijlmer flat.
She felt faint and sick and she wanted time on her own to examine her feelings but she knew things had to be done; so much had to be arranged.
“Laetitia, what am I going to do? Valentine needs to have a funeral. She needs singers, she needs prayer tellers, we need food, we need drink and we need a place. I have no money…”
She felt herself becoming hysterical. It was her fault that Valentine had died and she had done nothing to protect her. More sins on her conscience, more reasons for the gods to despise her. She had allowed her friend to sacrifice herself, for what? So that she could continue her miserable existence? Continue to fail the people she was meant to be helping? Not since those dark days in the psychiatric hospital had Elfriede felt so helpless and so unhappy.
“Now you listen to me Elfriede Urmi…” Laetitia used her birth name sharply, in order to get through to her. “…You weren’t Valentine’s only friend you know. She knew dozens of people around here. There is a community here. Just because you chose to step out of it and live your own strange life, doesn’t mean that Valentine was on her own; far from it, she was loved and respected by so many. We will organise everything don’t you worry. Oh child, don’t cry. Nobody will blame you and you will be welcomed by everyone; we Surinamers look after our own, you of all people should know that.”
Elfriede extracted herself from Laetitia’s embrace and held her at a distance.
“You’re a good soul Laetitia but I must do something. Valentine needs the right funeral, the right songs, the right dances and the right prayers. It must be traditional; it must be according to the old ways. I don’t know, is that possible in Amsterdam? Won’t they insist on a Christian burial?”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, Valentine was Christian, don’t forget that but I do know she liked to mix and match her gods, depending on what sort of crisis she felt she was going through and I know you and her had a lot of faith in the Wintis. You knew her better in that respect. I went to a funeral last year and it was a sort of mix but I think she should be cremated don’t you? Listen, I’ll speak to people and find out what’s involved. You’ve got to stop worrying and what’s more, you’re staying with me until this is over. I’m not having you wandering the streets in your present state. No, no, no argument! That’s final.”
“I don’t know what to say, I haven’t stayed in a real home for so long and you know how I feel about it but maybe it’s for the best, for a little while anyway. I feel so weak at the moment. Oh, by the way, I need to go and see Alfons.”
“The Winti healer? Why? Oh well, perhaps I shouldn’t ask. You know I don’t go in for much of that stuff but it’s up to you. Ooh, I’ve just had a thought; don’t you think we should look around and see if Valentine had a will, or some sort of indication what she wanted and don’t look at me like that. I’m insulted, how could you think I’d be interested in whether she had any money or not?”
Laetitia stood back, hands on her hips and glared at Elfriede, who laughed for what seemed to be the first time in days.
“Laetitia, there you go again. It has always been your biggest fault, jumping to conclusions. Of course I didn’t think anything of the sort, I was just surprised that’s all. Of course, it’s the obvious thing to do but doesn’t it feel wrong, to invade someone’s privacy like that?”
“Listen my dear, she has no family as far as I know. We are the closest thing she has to family. It’s our duty and what’s more, we have to sort out the flat and everything sooner or later. It’s not nice but it has to be done.”
“Actually, you’ve just given me an idea. Much as I am grateful for your offer, I think I’ll stay here for a few days. It will give me the chance to sort out her things and I can be on my own; you know how I prefer that. I hope you’re not offended?”
”Mm, well, yes, okay but I will be coming round often to check that you’re alright and you won’t go short of food and I’ll find you some new clothes and…”
“Stop, stop, you’re overwhelming me with kindness but it’s logical yes?
Elfriede was relieved that she’d found a solution that suited them both. She knew that she couldn’t stand Laetitia’s mothering and her family for long, it would be too claustrophobic. This way, she could have the time to make her peace with Valentine and to make sense of it all, without disturbance.
The two contrasting women began going through drawers and opening boxes, occasionally coming together to discuss this item or that but generally doing their work in silence. Like many people of her generation, Valentine had accumulated countless small but intrinsically valueless objects, pieces of china or glass, which clearly had sentimental value but would end up being thrown out or given to the junk shop. Elfriede was glad she had abandoned material possessions long ago.
‘All this stuff!’ she thought ‘and for what? Ah well, if she got pleasure from it but it tells you nothing about the woman herself, so sad.’
Laetitia came across a small inlaid, enamel box containing nearly seven hundred guilders. She looked at Elfriede questioningly.
“Oh take it. Use it for the funeral. Who would know? It would please her to know she could help anyway. I’m going to look under the bed, I bet she has her papers there.”
Sure enough, stuffed to a far corner underneath the bed was a battered leather briefcase containing all they wanted to know. After carefully going through the assorted documents, Laetitia sighed.
“Well, she didn’t have any insurances as far as I can see or any savings, well, not official ones anyway. It’s so sad what a life amounts to, isn’t it? There are lots of people to inform and maybe she has some sort of pension, I don’t understand it all. I’ll take everything to Bernard and he can check for sure and I’ll see the people at the community centre about the funeral. They’ll also know about what you have to do when someone dies without any family. There’s much more to do than you think, I’m going to call in as much help as I can get but you mustn’t worry about the paperwork dear. If you’re staying here, maybe you can sort out her personal belongings into what needs to be thrown out and what can be given away, all that sort of thing. Would that be okay?”
”Of course…” mumbled Elfriede, “…come and look at these.”
She had found two Albert Hein bags stuffed full of photographs and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, picking them out one by one, tears running down her cheeks. Laetitia squatted down beside her and for the next half an hour, they laughed and cried as they looked through the memories of a life, from the colour photos of the Community Centre Christmas party of a short time ago, to the fading black and white and even sepia pictures with curling edges, of a life back in Surinam that they had all but forgotten.
Several hours later, after Laetitia had been and gone for the second time, bringing a complete meal for both her and Beest, Elfriede sat in Valentine’s chair and closed her eyes. She needed to think. Everything had happened so quickly and she felt completely out of control of her own feelings. She also knew that if she was out of control, she was vulnerable to the same evil that had attacked her before. She decided that she needed to perform a ritual to restore her strength and reinvigorate her spiritual power. Without that, she wouldn’t be able to complete her tasks and she would lose everything. Next, she convinced herself not to panic. Providing she took the right steps, she would recover. Then she thought of the people whose lives she had set out to influence. She had no idea what had happened to them. Apart from a vague feeling that something serious had happened to Carolien and something worse to Marcel, there was no contact, no trace of their Kras in her subconscious and she worried that there would be yet more serious repercussions arising from her clash with the Dresi-man. That would need more prayers, more ritual and more special ingredients. Again, she panicked. She had no money to buy what she needed. Everything was available in the market, or from the Winti healer but at a price! She got up and searched Valentine’s flat again, fear rising in her stomach. It was absolutely essential that she acquired the correct items for ritual; nothing would work without the offerings. Apart from a few loose coins, there was nothing more to be found. She didn’t want to go to Laetitia again, she knew they would need every guilder to pay for a funeral with any meaning. It was no good, she’d have to go to Alfons herself and throw herself on his mercy.
Despite her life on the streets, she normally prided herself on being a healthy woman with nearly always enough strength and energy to get from one day to the next but as she made her way through the flat blocks and fought against the wind, she felt absolutely drained. Every step was difficult and it seemed that every bone in her body protested at having to be moved again. She stroked the dog’s head absent-mindedly but her thoughts were in turmoil as she realised how serious her situation was. Knowing that her only salvation lay in the old ways, she forced herself to walk on. Beest had snuggled down into the basket under a cloth, having licked her until his tongue was sore. He had sensed that all was not well with his beloved mistress but apart from letting her know that he cared, there was little else he could do, so he had decided not to be a burden and had fallen fast asleep.
“So, you’ve come to see me after all these years Elfriede? From the look of you, it’s clear your visit is not a social call.”
“Alfons, I wouldn’t have come unless I absolutely had to. I know you have no reason to greet me warmly and I know I disappeared when you needed me most all those years ago but there were reasons, very good reasons and all out of my control.”
She sat down on the hard wooden school chair he had offered and looked at the man who had begged her for help to save his daughter all that time ago. She hadn’t been herself though. It was just before she’d been taken away to the hospital but she did remember turning him down and she did remember that together they might have been able to rescue poor Amelie from madness but she’d been on the brink of madness herself. She began to regret having come. What had given her the idea that this man might help her?
“I know more than you think Elfriede. I know now what happened to you at that time and I understand that there was little you could have done to help my daughter or me. I hated you then, I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t…Oh, what’s the point? I was a father consumed with grief; you understand that don’t you? But now there are none of those feelings left. All I see in front of me is a broken woman and a woman who needs me. Well, I’m not going insane. As far as I know, there are no men in white coats waiting to imprison me in a mental hospital, so I’ll do what I can. What do you need from me? From my dabblings in the spirit world, I have some idea of what you have been going through but none of the details. I have the feeling that I need to help you and I always trust my strongest intuitions, so tell me what you wish to tell me and I’ll see what I can do.”
Elfriede grasped his hand and kissed it.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am Alfons and how truly, truly sorry I am that I couldn’t help you in your hour of need.”
She then proceeded to give an outline of what had happened to her and what she needed to put things right. As she talked, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Sacred Anana, I never realised! Of course I’ll help. I have almost everything here and what I don’t have, we can get from the market. I would also be honoured if you would let me assist you with the rituals. I can also fetch Ronald, he’s a proper Winti healer you know.”
“No, no. Your help will be just fine. I don’t think the Wintis are prepared to help me; in fact I’m sure they won’t. I have to do this on my own. I should also tell you that there might be some risk involved, not from the rituals themselves but from the evil spirits who will not approve of your helping me.”
“Ha, what do I care? Somehow, I don’t think the great powers will bother themselves with such small fry as me do you? Come now, we’d better get started.”
Elfriede wasn’t so sure but her need was so great that she dismissed any doubts she may have had.
It was dark again before she felt satisfied that they’d performed the rituals properly and she walked back through the streets with considerably more courage and self-belief than when she’d arrived. Some disconcerting things had happened though. Alfons had helped her with the cleansing ceremony and she had stood in his cold, tiled shower as he poured the carefully prepared mixture over her and begged the gods of Africa to hear her requests. She’d rubbed and scrubbed herself until her skin was raw, as she knew she must and he’d lashed her with the twigs and herbs until she felt completely clean but then he’d gone into trance. She hadn’t expected it and afterwards Alfons confessed to being astonished it had happened. His voice had become deep and growling and she found herself confronted by an ancient being, a true African spirit. The cockerel that had been running about the shower had pecked her foot until it bled profusely and then had keeled over and died on the spot. At that moment she felt fear again but she needn’t have worried. This spirit sounded terrifying but only had kind words for her and had promised to help restore both her strength and her powers. As Alfons’ eyes had rolled in his head, the spirit also told her that Valentine’s body should be returned to its land of birth, to Surinam in fact. She’d told him, whilst properly observing the protocol and declaring herself unworthy before every new request, that it would be almost impossible to do that. Valentine had nobody there who would receive the body and what was more, the expense was prohibitive. The spirit knew or cared little for maters of money and told her that Valentine’s forefathers would receive the body. If it didn’t happen, then Valentine’s soul would probably never rest and she would be destined to wander the blackness of purgatory forever. Elfriede told him, she would see what she could do and resolved to talk to Laetitia about it later but held out little hope.
“You are unique,” the spirit told her, “…you have caused a split amongst the gods, the spirits and your ancestors. There are many who oppose you but some who support you and because of that, your life on earth is only the beginning of your struggles. When you die, it will continue, for you will have to justify your chosen path to so many. For that reason, I will help you now, for I see the destiny you have chosen for yourself has merit and is courageous but beware for your enemies are everywhere.”
”Oh spirit, I am truly unworthy of your help but will be happy in this life if I can complete the tasks I have set for myself.”
Just then, Alfons shuddered and collapsed into her arms, panting loudly. She hugged him with renewed strength and began to feel a growing joy at being alive. Beest wandered into the shower room and sniffed at the dead cockerel, before lifting his leg and peeing over its head. Satisfied, he wandered out again to explore the plate of biscuits on the table.
After Valentine’s funeral, Elfriede found herself once again, needing to perform a ceremony. She knew she had to leave her friend’s flat the next day as Valentine’s rent ran out then and new tenants had already been to inspect the place, so it was important that she completed this ritual as quickly as possible.
The funeral had been wonderful, far better than Elfriede had ever dreamed. The community, under Laetitia’s firm guidance, had really pulled together and provided a fitting send off. There had been at least fifty people there and the generosity and the spirit had overwhelmed Elfriede. She had forgotten what it was to be a Surinamer amongst Surinamers and although she had tried to hide herself at the back of the hall, she had quickly been drawn into the singing and the embraces of so many people condoling her and each other. Everything was white of course and Valentine looked beautiful in her coffin, ‘like an angel surrounded by angels,’ Elfriede thought happily. The only nagging doubt at the back of her mind was the fact that she hadn’t been able to persuade Laetitia and her friends that Valentine should return to Surinam. It was a problem she would have to give some attention to in the near future. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friend’s spirit wandering aimlessly and without rest. There had even been a choir there, singing special Afro-Surinamer mourning songs and prayer readers and people who went into trance to ask Valentine’s ancestors to receive her kindly. There had been an extensive buffet and dancing and a Kaseko band for afterwards, which Elfriede had missed because she had gone with those few people really close to Valentine, to the crematorium. All in all, she was overjoyed and couldn’t thank Laetitia enough.
“Oh it’s nothing my dear. Doesn’t it make you want to come back to us and live with us all again? Haven’t you had enough of wandering the streets now? You see how people welcome you; don’t you want that permanently? Come and stay with the family and me until you get a place of your own.”
Elfriede had politely declined. She was tempted; she had to admit. She had missed all this but she knew she had work to do and she knew she could only do it without the distractions of material life. She wasn’t seeking comfort.
After some difficulty, partly because Beest insisted on having a few moments of madness, running back and forth across the carpet at high speed, Elfriede’s vision began to appear and she was able to seek out the people who mattered to her most.
It gave her a shock to see what had happened to them all.
“Not a moment too soon!” she said to herself. “There’s much work to be done.”
She saw the broken relationships and the unhappiness and how people were drifting back to their old insecurities. She worried about Carolien but could see the solution. She smiled at Candice and determined not to underestimate her again. She grieved for Willem and felt Marcel’s loss. ‘Another one I failed to protect and another one not on my list. I have been such a fool, to think I could play God. It was such a vanity and just because of my own stubbornness. I didn’t realise that throwing the pebble in the water would cause so many ripples but I can put this right, I can!’
She spent many hours, long into the night, examining their lives and what had happened to them and working out ways to repair the damage her absence had caused. She had no choice, she’d started this and she had to finish it.
“Right Elfriede Urmi Christiaanse! Tomorrow is another day and tomorrow we get right back to work, isn’t that right Beest?”
At the sound of his name, the dog looked at her pleadingly. He’d long since worked out that this could result in some sort of reward. When it only resulted in a scratch of the ears and a far-away look in Elfriede’s eyes, he went back to the eternal nibble for fleas.
- The impossible happens
- Candice sees the light
41. Elfriede has a job to do
Soundtrack & Media
The Amsterdam Series
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