The policemen accompanied Mark and Rose into the place from where they could see a torch. “Be quiet. It’s the police,” the officer shouted with a pistol in his hand.
Two guys arrived frightened and dropped the torch on the floor.” “What’s going on?” they said. “We are two quiet citizens.”
“No, you aren’t. You are the ones who have killed three horses and escaped from prison. You have to come with us.”
“Sure, will do. Now we recognize Mark. We feel so guilty.”
“Now be quiet and be ready to answer the questions of the officer at the police department.”
“So tonight, we have a place to sleep and maybe to eat a sandwich,” said one of the two, trembling.
“Come on. We have just arrived. Ladies first.”
They all entered the police station one after the other. The officer was ready to examine with eagle eyes the state of neglect of the two guys. “Please, sit down,” he said to the two felons and to the two witnesses.” So you escaped from prison with the help of some relatives of yours.”
“Yes indeed. Actually he is the only relative we have here. He helped us to escape from prison but he is not willing to offer us hospitality. He is willing to go back to Denmark and let us live in the streets. We are dirty and hungry.”
“I see. You will have your meal shortly. First answer us. How did your relative know you were in custody at this station? The newspapers didn’t talk of the location of the police station.”
“Yes and, if you remember well, you had our mobile phone with you. Maybe he saw the scene of our arrest from the beginning to the end and decided deep down in his heart to give us a hand. We have no allies. We acted only on the grounds of envy. We are willing to make the humblest works if you grant us freedom. We swear we have repented and we are not going to commit other sorts of crime. You know we have been in prison in the past and nobody wants to offer us a job,” they said.
“You seem sincere but we have to think properly of the whole thing. For now you have to go to your cell. We will have another chat tomorrow morning. Please, go now,” said the officer who invited Mark and Rose to go back home.
The policeman accompanied them silently through the whole journey. When Mark and Rose were at their flat they were exhausted. They saw DVDs scattered everywhere. It was their earliest plan to watch a movie in the evening but now they were too tired. Mark started caressing Rose’s feet, her legs, her buttocks.
“Now stop it,” said Rose, angry. “You are going too far,” she burst out.
“You mean you don’t want me to touch you?” he said.
“Exactly,” exclaimed Rose.
“So I will take a breath outside to relax. I will be in in half an hour,” said Mark annoyed. But he came back sooner than anticipated with two sandwiches. “Sorry sweetheart, I have been rude,” he apologized.
“Don’t worry. I have been rude as well.”
The night was coming slowly. In their cuddling and kissing.
Jill was blissfully ironing the clothes while Araon was out in the streets of Amsterdam for his daily stroll. I left my notebook at Sylvanus flat, she thought suddenly. Oh my God! If he reads my notes: one day in, one day out he will absolutely think they are my menses; I’m pregnant. How silly! He won’t read it despite the fact I had given a glance in his own when I was helping him to tidy up the flat. The Ides of March, what was the meaning of it? It was thirty-three AC. Has it got a link to today’s reality? But stop thinking of it. It’s nearly nine am., the housekeeper will be here soon.
Sure enough the door bell rung immediately. Jill rushed panting to the door. A tall, slender, blonde girl introduced herself. “Good morning. I am the woman who is to help you with the house chores. Sorry if it is nine am sharply. Usually I arrive ten minutes in advance of my appointments but today my car didn’t start and I had to catch the bus,” she said.
“Don’t worry. Come in, I’ll show you everything. You have simply to clean the floor, dust the furniture and clean the bathroom and the kitchen. If you finish before an hour you can go. I will pay full time by the piece,” said Jill.
“Sorry?” said the girl gently.
“To clean the floor, you can use either the broom or the hoover?”
“It’s up to you. Oh, let me think. It’s better the broom, it is not so dirty. Concerning the products to clean the bathroom and dust the furniture they are in the corner over there. So you can start now. Call me whenever you need it,” said Jill.
“I will,” answered the girl with a docile tone.
Jill went back to her ironing. ‘The Ides of March’ was a constant thought. Let’s forget about it. Oh my God, the chocolate! She went to pick a box of chocolate from the drawer of the bedroom. It was a gift from Sylvanus but Araon didn’t want her to eat too many calorific things. The selfish side of Araon had an example in that gesture: he didn’t want Jill to become too fat during her pregnancy. Jill left the chocolate well visible on the table so that her adorable husband wouldn’t find a single trail of a lie from her side. Every now and then she had a look at the housekeeper. She was terrific. She showed a great humbleness and passion in doing her job.
The flat was perfectly clean. Jill went to interrupt her: “Everything is OK. You can go now. Here are the twenty euros as established and I am looking forward to seeing you the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you. You are very kind. I’ll probably use my car so I will be here before nine a.m. Bye my lady.”
When the housekeeper had gone, Jill went to check every single corner of the house and she was very satisfied by the job done by the girl. And she had also finally finished her ironing. There was nothing better to do than have a quick shower and go out for a while. She hadn’t to do big shopping. There was only the bread missing. Araon would find the usual supply of products ready on the table waiting to be cooked for lunch. Jill wanted to go to the Rijks Museum where there was supposed to be an exhibition of Kandisky. She was an art amateur as Araon was after all. She covered her face and her body with hydrating cream and went out dressed in jeans and a white top. As soon as she left her flat, she saw in the distance the old lady from the outskirts panting and waving to her. The game was over: Jill wouldn’t probably go to the museum.
“Jill, wait for me,” said the lady, breathless.
“You are nearly fainting. Did you come here on foot?” Jill asked.
“The problem is that I don’t trust the public transport. Look, I have a stone with me. You have to help me to placate my prejudices. It concerns the ashes of my late husband. Prejudices want that if all your neighbour know that you hold the ashes of your late husband in your house your husband won’t rest in peace. We need to do a brief ritual to push out calamities from my life. We have to do it in a safe place,” said the woman.
“We can do it in the park of the museum I’m going to visit. But you have to take the bus with me,” said Jill.
“That’s fine. Let’s go.”
Once in the park the two women made sure that nobody was watching them. “Now we start: hold the stone and answer ‘Itch’ after the refrain,” said the woman. “One, two, three, ‘Itch’ A. B. R. ‘Itch’ It’s OK. We have finished. Thank you, a lot,” said the woman.
“No problem. But now take the bus to go home. I’ll give you the money for the ticket,” answered Jill.
“You are too kind and I’ll obey you. I hope to see you very soon.”
“Me too. Bye for now.”
Jill was now free to enter the museum. She had a spasm when she saw the first painting of Kandisky. She felt her baby wanted to communicate with her. She could be amazed at the enthusiasm of the crowd in front of all those beautiful pieces of art. In the next room there was a painting of a woman hanged with her head down. “It’s from Amstel. It represents the killing of Mrs. Petacci, Mussolini’s companion,” said a man next to her.
“It’s terrifying,” said Jill.
“I know it. But there are a lot of painters who make all the effort
s to become famous. Do you love art?” the man said.
“Of course I do, or I wouldn’t be here. Now I apologize, I have to go,” said Jill frightened.
“Have a nice day,” said the man with embarrassment.
Jill decided it was definitely time to go and buy the bread before going back to the nest of love where Araon would be surely waiting for her. She had never trusted strangers and the man at the museum was suspiciously unreliable. The temperature outside would melt iron. This was what Jill perceived in the street. Maybe it was the strain of holding a baby in her womb. Now she was free to catch the first bus to St. Lucienstteg Street and enjoy a tasty meal with her husband.
Samantha and Phil’s ferry had left Dover under the sight of the wonderful white cliffs early in the morning. They were heading for Amsterdam passing through The Hague. “Samantha, darling, are you enjoying the trip? I decided to bring you to our fete by ferry and not by train in order that you experience more adrenalin. Amsterdam, the place of the poppies.”
“Do you think I might meet Lucia accidentally? I know she has decided to live here for a while after her escape from the tyrant. But I am not sure where the flat is. She lives with a small baby after all. Or maybe now she has a man. She is the one who warned me to stay away from churches,” said Samantha.
“You worry too much. Amsterdam is such a huge place. You have to abandon the ghost which is hiding behind your docile expression. Why should we have the chance to meet her? The lover of your former boss’ wife has defaced the door of a pub with threatening writing but he won’t go any further. He has just forced the owner of the pub to change premises and to use a CCTV to monitor the place. Your former boss is a ruined man now. He won’t reach you at all. Anyway, you are with me. Don’t you feel safe in my arms?”
“Yes sweetheart. Oh, sorry. I have a bit of nausea.”
“It’s the choppy sea. You can take some tablets if you want. Or maybe you need simply something to drink. Am I too transgressive if I suggest to you a cup of coffee with milk?”
“I’d rather have some fruit juice. The bar is just in front of us.”
Samantha and Phil enjoyed their drinks silently. The bodyguards were not far from them but Samantha realized it only too late. But she was getting used to her new lifestyle. They did a good deal with Agusta and now they were enjoying a few days holidays far from home Finally they reached Holland. They desperately sought the train track to go to Amsterdam.
Mark and Rose were at The Hague to organize their wedding They had been able to get everything from the sweet box to the seven layered cake with a statue of them on top. They also contacted an Italian chief to make the menus for the dinner. Macaroni, spaghetti, minestrone. The menu was suitable for most different tastes. And, of course, they asked for some vegan dishes. Rose’s wedding dress was supposed to be a surprise, so she decided to postpone the purchase of it to another day.
“Now we have everything Rose.”
“No, darling there is still something we forgot.”
“Let me think: the photographs?”
“Yes, and something more tricky?”
“Oh ,,sorry Rose, the honeymoon.”
“You get the point.”
“I would like to take you to Paris, the city of couples in love.”
“Exactly. Time is running very quickly. And we have to think of my mum. Sure, she will see me in the aisle of the church with a white gown and a bouquet of lilies. But she will never see grandchildren from us. Cancer is devouring and multiplying every single cell in her very quickly. I don’t want to believe it yet. Look at these clouds: they are starting to cry soon in the same way I’ll do.”
“I don’t know how to comfort and console you. Rose. I simply have no words. We are the subject of questioning of our destiny and we have to accept it as it is.”
Rose never stopped crying and as she forecast, tears from above dropped quickly. The weather definitely didn’t help them. didn’t “Now my baby we have to catch the train to go to Amsterdam. The station is not far from here. Just hurry up,” said Mark.
Rose acted according to her instinct. Time for crying had ended now. Somehow, she felt to be a burden to the man she loved but she had simple complicity from him in exchange. She watched him in a submissive way.
“Beware of the tracks. Don’t fall into it Rose,” Mark shouted in desperation.
“Sorry Mark. I have not lost my love for life. Oh, look at the big screen: the train is leaving in fifteen minutes. We have to choose the wagon and wait patiently for the train to transport us to our beautiful city.”
Phil and Samantha found themselves in the same wagon as well. Jill and Araon were also there since they happened to be at The Hague for a short trip. Araon never finished extolling Amsterdam’s beauty once he had been in another city. Anyway, Jill and he had a nice time together. They had lodged in a five-star hotel for quite a long time and were now going back home a bit distressful. Even more distressful than their long way up and down over there in La Hague. And during their stay in that place, they found out to love one another more than ever. They could never forget their breakfast in a peculiar bar sitting next to a tattooed man and a joyful lady. The two figures were stinking as if they hadn’t washed themselves for a month. On their turn, Jill and Araon had consumed their meal quickly and went to the square outside to feed the pigeons. Araon lost fifty euros from his pocket. “You see Araon, your wallet is half empty now,” dad expounded Jill.
“Yes Jill. This means I have to buy something for you for fifty euros.”
“Brilliant. There is a shop over there. A vintage shop. I can buy a maternity dress.”
Eventually Jill had found what she was looking for. A red dress that fit her perfectly. They had to hurry up not to miss the train. They rushed to their wagon as fast as they could. It was the five o’ clock train for Amsterdam. They were so sweated that in first place they didn’t realize that Mark Ward and Rose were also there.” Jill, Araon what in the world are you doing here?” said Mark.
“You too are here? This is the sign destiny,” said Araon diverted by a young couple on his right.
“This means that you are going to come to mount a horse very soon,” said Mark.
“Sure,” answered Araon.
The train finally started moving and three glamorous couples found themselves in the same wagon. Their mobile phones rang simultaneously.
“Van der Baast…” they shouted all together. Whatever the secret behind that shriek was it was a mystery yet to be disclosed.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Samantha was downtrodden. As the train pulled off the central station of Amsterdam, she felt the warm hands of Philip against hers. To hear the name of Van der Baast by two other couples was an overwhelming experience. Phil was there to assure Samantha that none of the other people must know about the secret of her former boss. He swore that he had never seen those faces in the investigation of her past life. He gently picked up the suitcase and invited Samantha to follow him to get a taxi to the hotel. He mentioned the presence of their bodyguards next to them to Samantha’s disgust. “You don’t realize it darling but the bodyguards are following us everywhere. They are very efficient. I still remember when I was in Milan, next to the Italian premier of that time, Silvio Berlusconi, an unbalanced guy threw a statue of the Milan Dome in his direction and my bodyguards prevented me from being hurt in his place. But how stupid. Why should I overwhelm you with these stories? Now I’ll show you the hotel and you will feel better,” he said to Samantha who leant against the wall of the station building. “Taxi,” he shouted. “To the Degjynbof Hotel, please.”
The taxi was a luxury Lamborghini. It was a special surprise for Phil’s beloved Samantha. He wanted her to get the best from her Amsterdam experience starting from the trip by taxi to the hotel. On their arrival, a porter helped them to take their suitcases to their room which was a penthouse. Samantha had been deeply impressed by the hall of the hotel in Liberty style decorated with paintings of
the eighteenth century. And even more she adored their penthouse. It was a piece of a flat with a huge dining room in the middle. A bedroom with a king size bed and a bathroom with a hydro massage bath tub. The TV transmitted programs from the world over. Breakfast was served in the room and newspapers from the guests’ nationality were delivered over there daily copies of The Independent, The Guardian, The Evening Standard were already there as requested by Phil. Samantha went around with all her womanliness and stared in front of the designer dresses she found in the armchair.
“You can pick the one you like most. I had these dresses provided for you before we started the journey by ferry. I was sure that there would be more than one which could be appreciated by you,” said Phil.
“Oh Phil! They are all wonderful,” replied Samantha.
“So you won’t smack me because of this further intrusion this time.”
“Don’t be silly. That time it was just nerves,” said Samantha.
“Now Nelly.”
“I told you Samantha…”
“Oh sorry, Samantha. Now I will show you the slides our bodyguards have taken during our journey by train. We can see clearly the other two couples who were in our same wagon. I can research to find out more about them. Are you OK? I simply want you feel more protected.”
“No darling. I believe this is a waste of time. I know they all shouted: Van der Baast all together simultaneously, but I don’t think there might be something fishy this time. Our doctor is famous worldwide and I think that coincidences like ours can happen again. I set my conscience at rest,” said Samantha.
So I will take you to the hospital where he works and you’ll see with your beautiful green eyes what’s behind this mysterious doctor. But first I want you to admire the wonders of Amsterdam. Where do you want to start?” said Phil.
“I have a list of painters whose masterpieces are exposed here and there. I know it’s a good idea to immerse us in the magnificence of art. Jan Van Scarel, Rembrandt, Van Rijn, Franz Hals, Johansen Vermeer. We can add another hundred artists to the list.”
The Red Box Page 56
