The People She Called

Jip opened the door before Lena reached it. She looked past her mother at Tom pushing the bicycle up the garden path. The front wheel rubbed, scraping once on every turn.

‘What have you done?’

Lena put her bag on the mat. ‘I fell. Someone tried to take my bag.’

Jip's face stayed still for a few seconds. ‘Here?’

‘On the harbour bridge. The police came. He didn't get anything, and he drove away.’

‘Who?’

‘I don't know.’

Tom took the bicycle to the shed. Jip shut the door, picked up the bag with her good hand and carried it into the living room. Lena had to ask her to put it on the table. She sounded too urgent. Jip set it down very carefully.

‘Shall I ask Dad to stay?’

‘He's already here.’

‘I can see that. It's not what I mean.’

Lena sat on the sofa's edge. Bending her leg drew the fabric across the graze. She moved her foot further forward.

‘I don't know yet what I'd like for tonight. You can say what you want.’

‘I want you to stop doing that.’

‘Doing what?’

Jip pointed at her knee. ‘Sitting as though it's your trousers that hurt.’

Lena looked down and gave a brief, hoarse laugh. ‘My knee hurts too.’

‘Then say so.’

Tom came in with the bicycle key and put it by the fruit bowl. The bicycle was safe; someone could look at it tomorrow. First Lena needed to clean her knee. He went for a clean cloth while Jip pointed upstairs.

‘Get some other trousers. I'll put a towel on the sofa.’

‘You don't have to look after me.’

‘You don't have to stop us helping, either.’

Upstairs, Lena held the washbasin as she removed the torn trousers. A bruise was forming on her hip. Her knee was grazed, her elbow tender. She washed away the dirt carefully. For a moment she had to sit on the closed toilet seat. Not from pain. The returning image of the hand at her coat pocket made the bathroom smaller.

She planted both feet on the tiles and waited. Downstairs Tom opened a drawer. Jip said there were some big plasters somewhere, apart from the animal ones. Tom said an animal seemed quite appropriate. Jip did not laugh. He left it there.

When Lena returned, a towel lay on the sofa. Tom had put water on the table and draped the torn trousers over a chair. She started to remove them, then reconsidered. They might still be relevant to her report. She need not restore the room before anyone could form an opinion about it.

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Bread,’ Jip said. ‘I was going to make pasta.’

‘Why didn't you?’

‘Because you didn't know when you'd be home. Now I know.’

Lena moved the cup aside. ‘Make pasta. I'll have some too.’

She stayed at the table while Tom and Jip went to the kitchen. Jip could carry the saucepan by its handle with one hand, but Tom lifted it, full of water, onto the hob. Neither of them commented. Lena realised how tired she was of ordinary actions at home acquiring a whole story about caring for someone.

Her phone rang. Anouk asked whether she could speak privately.

‘I can go upstairs,’ Lena said. She looked at the stairs, then changed her mind. ‘Or you two could go into the kitchen for a moment.’

Tom nodded; Jip closed the kitchen door. Lena stayed at the table.

Anouk had received the incident report. The officers had taken the witnesses' accounts. They had arranged to see Lena to take her formal report. Anouk explained what she needed to preserve: her messages, her clothes, her memory of the sequence. Lena had already written a few lines about the bridge. She would not add suspicions to make them more complete.

‘You told the officer it might be related to your work,’ Anouk said.

‘I can't prove it.’

‘I'm asking why you think it.’

Lena mentioned the copies in her bag and the demands to withdraw her correction. She added that she had heard no one ask for those documents. Anyone could see she carried a bag.

‘It's good to distinguish those things. We'll consider the possibility. But I can't tell you who he was.’

‘Have they found the van?’

‘I can't give you an answer to that now.’

Lena heard her own breathing. There was no glass in the kitchen door. Behind the wood Jip tapped something against the worktop.

‘I don't want to frighten Sofie over something when I don't know why it happened,’ Lena said.

‘You don't need to give her a detailed account yourself. We'll discuss safety with her directly. If you do speak, tell her what actually happened.’

‘I haven't got her address.’

‘I know.’

Anouk asked about the coming days. Lena checked her diary. Tomorrow she would see Mieke, then Marten at his request. A business meeting in an office, with Mieke present. Nothing concerning Sofie was fixed for Thursday. Friday's handover with Cor and Nora still needed confirmation. Lena read out the proposed times without making them sound more tentative to avoid Anouk saying no.

‘Having Mieke there is sensible,’ Anouk said. ‘Tell us if anything changes. If someone comes to your door or you're followed again, don't wait to call.’

‘Should I cancel everything?’

‘I can't guarantee any given appointment is risk-free. We'll discuss what's appropriate with those involved. Don't go somewhere to confront anyone or try to draw out evidence yourself. You don't have to attend the business meeting if you feel uncomfortable about it.’

Lena thought of Marten's message. He wanted a practical solution. The phrase had irritated her before the van appeared.

‘I want to hear his proposal. With Mieke there.’

‘Discuss it with her. And give us the time and address once they're confirmed.’

Afterwards Lena put down the phone and listed the arrangements. She began with the bridge. One man. Dark grey clothes. Two remarks. After van she had automatically written followed. She crossed it out. She did not know that at all.

Jip opened the kitchen door, brought in a bowl of cheese and set it in the middle of the table. She stayed standing.

‘Well?’

‘The officers and Anouk are in contact. I'll complete the formal report as agreed. They don't know who he was yet.’

‘But it could be that man from the houses.’

‘It could be connected. I didn't recognise Niels. But I didn't see the face properly, so I can't rule him out. I just don't know who it was.’

Jip pulled back her chair. ‘So do we wait until something else happens?’

‘No. I'll share my appointments, and I won't go alone to meetings where I expect pressure.’

‘And cycling?’

Lena looked at Tom bringing the saucepan. ‘I'm not going out again tonight. Tomorrow I'll see what's needed.’

Jip said that was not an answer. Lena wanted to explain that a whole town could not become impassable because one man had knocked her down. True, and precisely the wrong thing to say. She picked up her fork.

‘Tomorrow I'll get lifts to my appointments. I'll discuss anything else first. I can't work out the whole week while the pasta gets cold.’

‘At least that's an answer,’ Jip said.

They ate. Tom had kept the sauce mild. Jip asked whether Lena's tooth had hurt at lunchtime; next week's dentist appointment was on the shared calendar. Lena had forgotten the tooth. The ordinary question let her stop seeing her plate as an obstacle across which she must make some grand declaration.

After dinner Mieke rang back. Lena described the bridge without sending Tom and Jip away. Mieke asked whether they should meet at Lena's house tomorrow instead. Lena did not want her dining table becoming another place for discussing case files.

‘Your office,’ she said. ‘I'll come with Tom. If he can manage it.’

Tom checked his phone and nodded.

Mieke could attend the meeting with Marten. She wanted to know precisely what he had asked, and had Lena forward his message. They would also consider contact with Sofie, without trying to discover her whereabouts. Through the agreed independent contacts, Sofie could choose what happened next.

‘I'm not planning to drive out to her,’ Lena said.

‘Good. Then I don't have to persuade you not to.’

Mieke's dryness finally made Lena laugh. Jip looked up from her phone. Lena repeated the remark, and Jip rolled her eyes.

‘Apparently everyone thinks you would.’

‘I don't.’

‘You always want something you can tick off.’

Lena looked at the marked-up sheet. Under Bridge was the time of her report. Beside it, three names she had called. She closed the diary.

At nine Tom went to the taxi for his bag of clothes. He often carried a clean shirt for late shifts. A colleague could cover part of his evening's work; he would lose earnings. He said so without making it a favour. Lena asked how much. They could look at that tomorrow, he said.

‘I don't want you here tonight because you think you need to guard me,’ she said.

‘I'll sleep on the sofa. Jip doesn't want to be alone with you while you're pretending nothing's wrong.’

‘That's not how I said it,’ Jip called from the stairs.

‘Near enough.’

Lena laid out a sheet. The sofa was a little short for Tom. It had been the same length two years ago, yet she still tried to improve matters by shifting a cushion. He took it from her.

‘It doesn't have to be perfect.’

She nodded and went upstairs. Jip stood outside her room, a textbook against her stomach.

‘I'm still going tomorrow. To school.’

‘Good.’

‘Call if you need me. But I'm not a message service.’

‘You're not.’

‘I want to know when you tell other people things, though,’ Jip said. ‘Tess asked if she should call her mum. I said no. If you're going to ring everyone, I'd rather know.’

‘I won't call anyone at your school. You choose what you tell them. If anything needs to change for you, we'll discuss it first.’

‘Not even to ask them to keep an eye on me.’

‘Not even that.’

Jip shifted the book to her other hip. Apparently she had nothing to add. Lena thought of her habit of organising help through the people around someone. For the first time she saw how it might leave Jip walking into a room of adults who already had a story before she arrived.

‘Ask if you want me to speak to someone,’ Lena said. ‘And Dad knows what happened today. You don't have to carry messages between us.’

‘Thank goodness. I've got homework already.’

Jip waited to see whether there was more. Lena kept quiet. Her daughter stepped closer and gave her a careful, brief hug, her injured arm between them, then went into her room.

Lena stayed on the landing. Downstairs Tom checked the front door and put the key in its usual place. That did not solve what had happened on the bridge. It did make it easier to turn out the light.