Chapter 2

"You are not working, are you?" It was the neighbor, the farmer's wife, an old cat if there ever was one. "Not feeling well?"

The girl sat in her pajamas at the kitchen table mixing cereals with milk. "Just a bit tired", the girl said.

"Oh, I'll fix some coffee for you, I got all the time in the world."

"Don't, not for my sake", the girl said.

"Oh, then I just make some for me. But just in case..."

After relating the latest gossip the old cat struck at her errand, casually: "So you had a visitor last night?"

"Visitor?" the girl said.

"The one with the blue Mercedes. It might have been dark green, too."

"No, I don't know who that might be", the girl said.

"Arrived at about eight and left shortly after midnight. Sorry, I don't want to be nosy... but I mean, noone else lives down this road, but us. You couldn't be too careful with all this crime."

The girl pressed her temples. "It must have been Anne", she said. "I don't know much about cars."

"Neither do I", said the neighbor. "But John said it wasn't a lady's car, exactly, so maybe it's her husband's? Anne was her name?"

"Yeah, coming to think of it", the girl said.

"But John says it was a rental car, this Hertz' logo, you know."

When the neighbor finally left the girl mixed herself some aspirin, then she threw the cup into the wall. "Damn", she said. "Damn, damn." She put the bed sheets in the old washing machine and prayed it should not give up on her. Then she tried to do some reading.

Her husband phoned in the afternoon. The next day nobody phoned at all. She felt uneasy down at the grocery, just picked up the necessities. On the third day, in the afternoon, she decided to bike into town, half an hours ride. It was a small town. She waved hello to the farmer's wife when she rolled by.

She had a café latte down at the harbor. A breeze made the sun endurable. With no books to read she studied the people passing by, tourists, retired people, mothers with children, fishermen. On the pier some boys were fishing.

She strolled along the marina and down to the shipyard. A lot of cars there, some with trailers. The workers were still around, at this time of the year they worked in shifts. In winter the place was rather desolate. She went back, all the way up to the old church.

She was late for the first movie at the cinema, it was half past six. She went down the alley to the Grand, a hotel that was impressing in the 30's. Nowadays everybody stayed at the Ocean. A woman with a blue cap was ticketing the cars in the square. One of them was dark green.

A Mercedes. She could read the rear sticker through the windscreen: Hertz. She sat down on a bench nearby and frowned. She took another close look at the Mercedes. A cheap ball point pen on the dashboard. A blank notepad on the passenger seat. She didn't know Hertz had Mercedes for rent. In this town? She returned to the bench.

Shortly after seven three men left the hotel, one in a suit and white shirt, necktie. He looked like an accountant. One in a beige sports jacket. She recognized him from the local paper, he was the owner of the shipyard, a stout, bearded man in his late 50's. One in a blue sweater carrying an attaché case. That was him.

The girl just sat there. He saw her about then, stopped, opened his mouth and the closed it again. The others called out: "Dinner's waiting." He took the ticket from under the wiper, scribbled a few words on it and put it back. "A goddam ticket", he called back.

They were probably heading for the the seafood restaurant down by the pier. She stayed on her bench, breathing heavily and shaking her head. "Bastard", she mumbled, "bastard". She then picked up the ticket, crumbled it to a little ball and threw it in a litter-bin.

The girl sat brooding at a window table with the pasta half eaten. "Another glass?" the waiter asked and showed the Chianti. And from the corner of his mouth: "For you, pretty lady, on the house."

"No, I'm fine". She was sulking. Men with hungry eyes were watching her.

She had her bike outside the bus station but made a detour via the square. The Mercedes was still there. She went straight for the litter-bin and looked into it. Empty bottles, melted icecream. She looked over her shoulder, then started digging.

She found it smeared and wet but she uncrumbled it on the hood of the car and read: Around 10, back row of the Dragon. She threw the ticket back in the bin and looked at her watch. It was 10.30. "Shit", she mumbled. She hurried back the same alley she came, turned right at the pizza house and fell into a trot. She arrived to the Dragon when the man in the box office turned the sign: Closed.

"A ticket, please", she pleaded.

"You sure?" The man sounded sarcastic. She saw the poster behind him. The night movie was x-rated. She confirmed. "Aha!" he said. "Meeting someone?"

She adjusted to the dark, then made her way up the aisle. A stale smell, red plush and not very many customers. It was not outright porn. The backrow was empty but for a teenager to the right with a big bag of pop corn. She picked the seat in the left corner and shut her eyes. She was still panting.

It was ten to eleven. On the screen a barebreasted lady spoke a lot. Then she started to break porcellain. It was a french movie. Some men cast eyes in her direction, she kept her eyes straight on the screen.