31
The mattresses are back where they belong: in Anouk’s room and in the spare bedroom. Anouk is happy, but Lisa would have preferred to stay in the basement. It is Wednesday evening, and even if Kreuger does leave on Sunday, he’s got four long nights to enact all of his sexual fantasies with her.
I have to get away, she thinks feverishly. If he doesn’t leave, I will. With Anouk.
Tonight seems like the best time to escape. She can try to get away when he’s asleep.
The whole evening she keeps a discreet eye on Kreuger. Her mobile has disappeared from her bed. He must have put it away somewhere. It might be in his trouser pocket, along with the keys to the front door and her car. Or has he hidden those too? That would make matters rather more complicated. They’d have to escape through Anouk’s bedroom window. She pictures herself edging down the drainpipe to the garage roof with a frightened, trembling child. She’d have no hesitation in doing it on her own, but can she force Anouk to attempt something so dangerous?
She doesn’t have a choice. She can’t imagine Kreuger simply leaving them behind when he goes on Sunday. However sympathetic he might seem at the moment, he’s still a criminal, a murderer with a diminished sense of moral responsibility. Since she started to cooperate, he has changed, but she can’t count on the change being a permanent one. He might have planned it all this way. She cooks for him, does the washing and lets him fuck her. He couldn’t have found a better deal. But she won’t find out what his real plans are until Sunday.
Lisa stares out of the window with her arms folded. She’s going to do it. Tonight she’ll climb out of the window with Anouk.
When she puts her daughter to bed, she dresses her in warm flannel pyjamas and sets her hoody apart from the rest of the clothes in the wardrobe. She’ll be able to grab it easily tonight. She puts out Anouk’s trainers and looks around. Does she need anything else?
A rope around her waist, she thinks. A rope to bind her to me in case she slips.
A feeling of desperation comes over her and she sinks on to the edge of Anouk’s bed.
‘What’s the matter, Mummy?’ Anouk asks sleepily. ‘Why were you getting my hoody?’
‘Oh, no reason,’ Lisa says. ‘Go to sleep. Isn’t it lovely to be back in your own bed?’
Anouk rolls on to her side. ‘When’s he going away?’ she mutters drowsily.
‘Soon,’ Lisa promises her with a kiss on the cheek. Very soon, she adds to herself.
His arm is wrapped around her like a tight chain. Lisa has turned on to her side with her back to him and stares into the darkness. Her nakedness screams out at her, accentuated by Kreuger’s hand, which has been on her right breast for more than an hour now. Her body is sore where he has bitten her. She has endured it again, relieved that the darkness could hide her tears.
Her throat is fighting against the bile that keeps rising from her stomach. If she’s not careful, she’ll wake him up by vomiting. Is he really asleep? She keeps her eyes constantly on the red digital numbers lighting up her bedside table. An hour and a half already. She listens to his breathing – calm and regular. His grip on her breast has weakened. That could mean he’s asleep. Or he could be pretending.
A new wave of nausea wells up in her. To the bathroom, quick. She worms her way out of Kreuger’s grasp and slides out of bed. There’s a strong smell of sex and sweat all around her. No wonder she feels sick.
She starts to feel better as soon as she’s on the landing. She takes a few deep breaths in relief and goes to the bathroom to take a sip of water. It stays quiet in the bedroom. Is he really sleeping deeply? She listens carefully, but can hear only his regular breathing. It’s such a relief just to be away from him for a while that she can’t bring herself to return to the bedroom.
But she needs clothes, even if it’s only her dressing gown. It’s risky, but she’ll have to search his trouser pockets to see if he has her mobile or keys. Probably not, but you never know. It might spare them a dangerous escapade on the garage roof.
Lisa looks at herself in the mirror. Moonlight falls through the window and lights up her pale, waxen face. There are circles under her eyes, and her hair hangs flat and lifeless around her face. A shadow of the woman who unsuspectingly hung out the washing on Monday afternoon.
She tries to encourage herself. Go on, girl. Tiptoe into the bedroom and quickly check his trouser pockets. A piece of cake.
She’s trembling too much to walk on tiptoe. She shuffles back to the bedroom, one foot in front of the other, into the darkness and the stench. Kreuger is snoring lightly.
Lisa silently walks around the bed to where his clothes are messily piled on a chair. Her hands are shaking, her wound suddenly throbbing, as she feels around until she finds the tough denim of his jeans. If there are keys in the pocket, they might clink.
She picks them up very carefully. Her fingers find his belt and then slide around to the pockets. They are disappointingly light. She cautiously slips her hand into the first pocket, but it is empty.
Kreuger turns on to his side with a groan. Lisa’s nausea returns at full force. She can’t vomit, not now. She breathes deeply in and out, and when the wave has subsided a little, she hurries her hand into the other pocket. It too is empty. She had expected this, but the disappointment is still harsh. Nothing for it now but to get Anouk on to the garage roof, only she doesn’t know if she’ll manage with her legs feeling so weak.
Her eyes slide to the empty place next to Kreuger in the bed, and her face contorts into a grimace. Of course she’ll manage. The alternative is unbearable.
She picks up her dressing gown, which is lying at the foot of the bed, and takes it with her. She puts it on outside on the landing. She is suddenly angry with herself for not having any trainers, only shoes and high-heeled boots. They would make much too much noise, and might easily cause her to slip on the sloping roof. It’ll have to be bare feet.
Wake up Anouk and get her into her hoody. Hope that she doesn’t protest at the top of her voice or insist on going to the loo.
Lisa creeps to her daughter’s room, but then the bile rises again unstoppably. A few more steps and she’s in the bathroom, where she collapses on to her knees in front of the toilet bowl.
Her stomach heaves, her body cramps, and she feels it coming. Her vomit hits the water in the toilet. So much noise. She isn’t surprised when she hears someone coming into the bathroom behind her.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ Kreuger’s voice asks.
She doesn’t go to the trouble to answer, but holds her long hair into a ponytail with one hand. Every time she stops to catch her breath, her body shakes and she starts to gag again.
Kreuger watches her from the edge of the bath. Lisa ignores him.
When she’s got to the point of vomiting only water and bile and her body has regained its composure, it occurs to her that tomorrow she’ll have to spend another day and another night with this man. She wipes her mouth, takes the beaker of water that Kreuger offers her with her shoulders slumped and begins to cry. Kreuger soothingly strokes her hair.
‘Poor Lisa,’ he says. ‘Poor, poor Lisa.’
32
The first thing she sees when she parks in front of the door are the streamers. Pink, blue and white, they are draped around the door, across the front of the house, along the garden fence all the way to the street. If they’d had enough streamers, they’d have included the lamp-post, Frank tells her.
Senta gets out of the car, her eyes damp. She can hardly control her emotions when she sees her children waiting for her in the sitting room full of flowers. They burst into cheers and throw themselves at her; even Niels wraps his arms around her and presses his cheek against his mother’s in a silent display of affection.
‘Oh, children, how lovely.’ Senta cuddles each of them in turn.
‘We’ve got cake too!’ Jelmer cries, and pulls her with one hand towards the kitchen, where an enormous iced chocolate cake is waiting on the wor
ktop. ‘This is your favourite kind of cake, isn’t it, Mummy?’
‘Absolutely.’ Senta reassures him. She turns to Frank, who is watching her every movement, his hands in his pockets and a wide grin on his face. A wave of tenderness and devotion runs through her. She walks over to him and kisses him gently on the lips.
‘Thank you,’ she says quietly. ‘What a wonderful homecoming.’
‘You should thank the children: they dreamed everything up.’
‘But it was your idea to—’ Jelmer begins, but he is attacked from all sides before he can finish his sentence.
‘That’s a surprise, you idiot,’ Denise says.
This earns her a kick, but Jelmer’s happiness at having his mother home again is too great for his humour to be spoiled.
‘When are you going to do the surprise, Dad?’ he whispers into his father’s ear, very loudly.
‘In a minute.’ Frank gives him a blatant wink.
‘I’m starting to get curious. What’s going to happen?’ Senta looks from one person to the next with interest.
‘You’ll see!’ Jelmer dances around excitedly. ‘It begins with a—’
‘Jelmer!’ Denise presses her hand against her brother’s mouth. ‘Shut up. It’s not the same if Mum already knows. Mum, go and sit down; we’ll bring you a cup of coffee. Or would you rather have tea? And would you like a big slice of cake or an enormous slice of cake?’
Senta says she’d prefer coffee, and a medium-sized piece of cake. She lets them lead her to the sofa as if she’s an elderly lady who can hardly walk. Home. At least her brain is telling her that this is home, but she somehow feels estranged from all the familiar things around her. She is constantly aware that she almost lost her family, her home and her life. If that man hadn’t been walking his dog along the embankment, she’d be in a coffin now. No streamers, no cake, but deep mourning in this house. She shivers and dismisses such macabre thoughts.
And suddenly, as she tries to turn her mind to a happier subject, something flashes through her mind.
A house, she thinks in surprise. I dreamed about a house.
The big surprise is a new car: a metallic silver Toyota Auris Business Edition, only a year old. Frank enthusiastically demonstrates all the extras, and hopes that Senta will take it for a test drive immediately.
She imagines putting on the seat belt, turning on the engine, driving away. She turns pale and brings her hand to her forehead. ‘I think I’ll go and lie down. I’m shattered.’
‘Of course, darling. I totally forgot how tired you still must be. You go and lie down. I’ll get dinner ready for tonight. We’ll have a lovely long one, glass of wine, music . . .’ Frank solicitously leads her inside, and upstairs, to bed. The children follow, watching her go and waving goodbye before disappearing into their bedrooms or off to see their friends.
Frank unpacks her suitcase and helps her on with her nightdress. ‘Are you all right like that?’ He looks concerned as she crawls under the duvet.
‘Yes, thanks. You’re such a sweetheart.’
‘Sleep well, darling.’ He gives her a quick kiss and leaves the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. ‘Don’t play your music too loud, Mummy’s sleeping,’ Senta hears him say to one of the children.
But she isn’t sleeping and she isn’t planning to. All she wants to do is to lie quietly on her back, stare at the white ceiling and enjoy the peace. But wherever she looks, that house appears in her mind’s eye. Is it a memory? Something from that lost hour? But why does she remember a house and not the moment she drove into the water?
Senta stares ahead. It was a misty afternoon, and she was lost. The only thing she can think is that she asked for directions somewhere. Maybe she sat in that house for a while until the mist lifted; maybe she had a drink and a nice chat with whoever lived there. Maybe he was the one who rescued her from the water.
Senta jumps up with a start. Her saviour! Of course, he saw everything happen; he’ll be able to fill in a few missing pieces of the puzzle.
Sleep is out of the question. She throws off the duvet, pulls on her dressing gown and goes downstairs. A strong oniony smell meets her, and Frank looks up in surprise.
‘Couldn’t you sleep?’
‘No, I’m too restless. I suddenly thought about that man who rescued me. Do you know who he was?’
‘Yes, I wrote it down. I imagined you might want to thank him. And the police said it’s sometimes good if the victim and the rescuer get to know one another. It helps you to process things.’
‘It might get my memory working again. That missing chunk is bothering me.’
‘Yes, I’m sure. People might say that an hour isn’t important, but the hour before something so fundamental . . . I’d like to know what happened too.’ He skilfully turns over the onions in the pan.
‘Where is that man’s number?’ Senta asks.
‘I wrote it down in my diary. It’s next to the computer. But Senta . . .’ He looks up with a light frown between his eyebrows. ‘Do you really have to call him now? You’ve only just got home.’
‘I’ll just copy it down. I’ll call him during the week. Maybe he wouldn’t mind my dropping round.’
Frank points the knife at her in warning. ‘You know you’re not allowed to drive yet.’
‘Who said so?’ Senta gives him an astonished look. ‘I’m absolutely fine. Why shouldn’t I drive? You wanted me to go for a test drive just now.’
‘With me next to you! What if you blacked out?’
‘Why would I black out? Did Dr Reynders say that might happen?’
‘No, but you never know.’
‘Oh . . .’ Senta scratches her cheek thoughtfully. ‘Let’s see: when do you think I’ll be capable of going out on my own?’
Frank turns to her with a sigh. ‘Don’t be so sarcastic, Senta. I’m worried – you must be able to understand that?’
His shoulders slump, and suddenly he looks so tired and worn out that Senta goes over to him, full of remorse, and wraps her arms around him. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’d be worried too if it had been you. But, to be honest, I can’t wait to get back to work and on with my life again.’
‘You mean carry on as though nothing has happened?’
‘Yes, that too.’ Senta stops talking for a moment and then continues in a gentle voice. ‘I’m afraid that if I wait too long I won’t dare to.’
Frank’s eyes are serious and full of understanding. ‘A week of rest isn’t too much to ask, is it? Really, Senta, you owe it to yourself to let your body heal. It’s been through a lot.’
Senta nods in acquiescence.
That evening they share a Mexican meal, which Frank has cooked. Burritos, nachos, guacamole, her favourite foods. Frank hasn’t skimped on a thing. The good Chilean wine on the table completes the picture, and Niels and Denise are allowed a glass each. Only Jelmer has to make do with a Coke, but he doesn’t have a problem with that.
‘Wine is disgusting, I don’t know why you like it.’
His father nods approvingly. ‘Keep it that way.’
‘I don’t like it that much either,’ Denise admits after a tiny sip. ‘It’s so sour. Haven’t you got any sweet wine?’
‘Get yourself a Coke too,’ Senta advises her. ‘I don’t really approve of your drinking alcohol. Before you know it, you’ll start to like it.’
‘Yes, and then you’ll be just as addicted as Mummy and Daddy,’ Jelmer says between bites of his burrito.
Senta and Frank both look up speechlessly and then say at the same time, ‘Hang on!’
‘You drink wine every evening with dinner,’ Jelmer says accusingly.
‘Having a few glasses with a meal won’t do any harm,’ Frank replies calmly. ‘But it can damage children whose brains are still growing. That’s the difference.’
‘Give Jelmer a glass, then. He hasn’t got a brain to grow.’ Niels taps against his brother’s head, at which Jelmer pelts him with the brown beans that have fallen fro
m his burrito.
Denise bursts out laughing, but Frank puts a stop to the chaos with an angry outburst.
‘Oi! Stop it! Your mother has only been out of hospital for a few hours and you’ve already started playing up!’
The children look in Senta’s direction in shock, but she’s laughing behind her napkin.
‘I’m so happy to be home again,’ she says.
The rest of the evening is peaceful and convivial. No one is withdrawn or absent; they all gather together in the sitting room like a model family, chatting and reading. The television is on, but it’s more of an unobtrusive murmur in the background. When the eight o’clock news starts, Frank immediately turns from his family and gives it his full attention. Senta is forced to follow the summary of the world’s woes along with him. She is not happy, but she knows that Frank likes to watch the news for work. After a while, her thoughts wander off and she watches without really seeing anything.
‘Haven’t they caught that loony yet?’ Niels says. ‘It’s unbelievable.’
‘He’s long over the border,’ Frank comments. ‘They won’t be able to catch him any more.’
Senta absent-mindedly looks at the image of a man with short black hair and a round, surly face that fills the screen.
‘An escaped nutcase,’ Niels fills her in. ‘He escaped while on day-release from a psychiatric prison, killed a woman and beat a man to death.’
‘What a creep.’ Senta is watching the screen with only half an eye. She isn’t really following the news item about the criminal, but when the coverage changes to the weather, she experiences a strange sense of relief.
33
Lisa slowly opens her eyes. She has spent the entire night awake. Kreuger’s slightest movement in the bed sent shockwaves through her body; every time he snored or groaned in his sleep she’d freeze, and when his hand brushed her body it felt like he’d touched a raw nerve.
Safe as Houses Page 12
