The Wrong Visitor

The visitor out front was a woman with two old keys on a ring. She wanted to know whether she could have a new one cut before collecting her mother from hospital. Lena stopped in the opening to the shop. The woman put the keys on the counter and apologised for the short notice.

Cor said he couldn’t do it that afternoon. He could recommend another workshop. His supplier was waiting by the door with a delivery note. Behind him, the lorry’s tail lift was still down.

‘I can’t keep squeezing things in,’ Cor said. ‘Or I’ll miss the appointment I actually need to get to this afternoon.’

The woman nodded and picked up her keys. Was the other place far? Cor wrote the address on the back of a business card. As she left, he told her to ring first, just in case. Lena could see he found it difficult to send her elsewhere. The opening hours were on a sign outside and he was standing behind the counter; for some customers, those were the only facts that counted.

Lena’s phone brought a message from Mieke. The residents’ documents would go out on Monday, rather than that afternoon, so everyone could check their own details first. They contained no new information about Sofie. Lena replied that her correction of the building report was ready and she would supply the relevant attachments securely. She went into the back room and put the folder in her bag.

Cor followed to fetch one last envelope from the cupboard. He wrote Ria’s address on it and left it open. Nora would take her the papers.

‘That other file,’ he said, pointing at Lena’s bag. ‘Anything else in there you need to look at?’

‘No. Just the list. The originals are where they belong.’

‘Good. I don’t want it all lying about here.’

He picked up the bundle of other files from the table. ‘Don’t take that list until I’ve got one too. Or I’ll have to work out all over again what I gave to whom.’

Lena held out her copy. She had left space under each line. She noted which documents she was taking and added that this wasn’t a statement about what had happened at the steps. Cor read it and corrected one house number. Together they went to the printer out front. It took an age to wake up and dragged the first sheet in crookedly.

‘That’s what I mean,’ he said. ‘It only ever works when I don’t need it.’

Lena took out her phone, saw a missed call from a client and left it for later. When the sheet finally emerged, Cor asked her to wait while he checked the addresses once more. She waited. The supplier looked impatiently at his watch. Cor went on reading.

He initialled the last address. Lena did the same beside the line acknowledging receipt. The two sheets parted: one for her folder, one for his records. Cor made no joke about everyone having to sign for everything now. He put his own copy away before turning back towards the lorry.

He rubbed his chin and glanced at the opening. The supplier called that he would put the lengths of profile back on the lorry if nobody signed for them. Cor told him two signatures hardly called for threats.

‘Has Nora got her things?’ Lena asked.

‘Nearly. She’s clearing the back seat. Thought she’d fit it all in that trolley.’

He nodded at the box Lena had left on the table. ‘Could you take her that in a minute? Put the little ruler back in the case first. Or she’ll think she has to come back for it.’

Lena zipped up the pencil case and set it on top of the wallet of cards. Cor went over to his supplier. The front door swung shut. The bell gave a brief, unfinished ring, its metal clapper catching against something.

As Lena lifted the box, the bell rang again. She didn’t look up yet, just settled the box against her hip as Nora had done. Something was put on the counter. Cor said a name, a question and a warning in one word.

‘Niels?’

Lena put the box down.

She heard the supplier ask where to leave the delivery papers. Cor said he was coming, then said something more quietly to Niels. Footsteps followed. Niels appeared in the opening to the back room, phone in hand. He wasn’t wearing a coat. There was a small dry smear of paint on his dark blue jumper, near his stomach.

‘So you’re still here,’ he said.

‘I have an appointment.’

‘Yes. They were talking about it out front.’

Lena looked past him. Cor was by the outside door with the supplier. She couldn’t see Nora. Her bag was against the chair, her bicycle by the path behind the shed. She didn’t put her phone in her bag. She kept it in her left hand, down beside the table.

‘If it’s the job sheets you want to ask about, you need Cor.’

‘I’m not here to order a key.’

He came towards the table. A postcard had slipped out of the wallet and lay on the pencil case. Lena picked it up and tucked it back under the band. Niels looked at Henk’s possessions.

‘How long do you think you can keep this up?’

Lena didn’t answer. Her heart was beating faster and for a moment she resented her body’s response. Niels hadn’t done anything to her yet. She pushed that thought away at once. She could wait to decide what an action meant without waiting to protect herself.

‘Cor’s out front,’ she said. ‘I’m leaving shortly.’

‘Don’t start pretending we can’t have a normal conversation.’

‘I’ve told you what I have to say about my report.’

He laid his phone face down on the table. ‘Half those people don’t even want to stay. They sign something, get paid, then say they didn’t understand. And you come along and get in the way.’

‘On 6 May I inspected an occupied house. That’s what I reported.’

‘Everyone knows when you were there.’

‘Not according to the file you used.’

Niels ran a hand through his hair. A nail caught a loose thread on his jumper. He pulled it free and dropped his hand to the table.

‘Someone tells you a story and you believe it because they know how to cry. I’ve been dealing with those residents for ten years. I know when things don’t add up too.’

Lena stepped towards her bag. Niels rested a hand on the back of the chair in front of it. He didn’t move the chair. He didn’t need to. She stopped.

‘Move the chair,’ she said.

He looked at his hand. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m holding a chair.’

‘And I want to get past.’

‘Then let’s both listen for a minute. I’ve got things to finish too.’

Outside, the tail lift hit the lorry with a heavy clang. The supplier shouted something about Monday. From beside the table Lena could no longer see Cor. The opening was a few metres away, with Niels between her and it. The other side of the room was clear. The passage to the back door began beyond the cupboard of cleaning products.

She didn’t want a succession of movements to show Niels where she meant to go. She kept her gaze near his shoulder and put her phone in her trouser pocket. With her right hand she drew her bag a little way out from behind the chair. This time Niels did move it.

‘What’s in there?’

‘My work.’

‘Show me.’

‘No.’

He looked at the folder sticking out of the bag. ‘This has nothing to do with you. These are the housing association’s records. Cor shouldn’t be handing them round.’

‘Ask him.’

‘I’m asking you.’

A car horn sounded out front, short and sharp. Through the high side window Lena saw the shadow of an open car door. Nora must still be at her car. She thought of Anouk’s warning: don’t get into a discussion to help us. She didn’t need to point out the contradictions in what Niels was saying. She didn’t need to discover how he knew what was in her folder.

‘I’m not giving you any documents,’ she said. ‘Talk to the person responsible for them.’

‘One email. You can say you drew the wrong conclusion. That’s all. Not about the leak. You can keep that. The rest.’

He pointed at the phone in her pocket. Lena heard him, but watched his fingers. When she stood still, his hand relaxed. As soon as she touched her bag, his whole posture changed.

‘There won’t be another email,’ she said.

‘Then ring. You’ve got the number.’

He moved closer. Lena backed away until the edge of the table pressed against her thigh. She put her bag on it, leaving it loose. If he wanted it, he could take it. Her phone was in her pocket. The originals weren’t here. Even if they had been, this folder mustn’t be what kept her in the room.

‘Stay there,’ she said.

Niels looked at her. ‘Jesus, Lena. I’m not some bloke off the telly.’

It sounded so ordinary that she almost replied. He sounded irritated, tired of a difficult meeting. The workshop was still the workshop, with the mugs on the cupboard and the radio Nora had taken away. Remembering the exit was easier than recognising danger in this familiar room.

Niels flipped the bag open. Lena didn’t catch his wrist. She moved sideways, her hip brushing the table’s edge. He pulled out the folder and blew air through his nose at the sight of its cover.

‘Copies. What do you need these for? It’s all been sent already.’

‘Exactly.’

He snapped it shut. A loose sheet fell to the floor. Lena didn’t see the address, only Cor’s red stamp marking it as a copy. She left it there.

‘Where is she?’ Niels asked.

A chill ran between Lena’s shoulder blades. She looked towards the opening. Cor still hadn’t returned. Outside, two men began talking over each other, their voices coming from the lorry.

‘I don’t discuss residents with you.’

‘You know.’

He held the folder spine down in his left hand. ‘She’s dragged her brother into it. Do you know that too? Someone else always pays when she runs off.’

Lena heard Sofie at the table in Mieke’s office: her exact hesitations, her corrections to the things she had first said. Niels would get no detail that told him what Sofie had said or where she might be.

‘I’m going outside now,’ she said.

Niels shifted one foot to the side. ‘First you’re going to say you’ll talk to me.’

Cor appeared in the opening. ‘She goes outside if she wants to.’

Niels turned his head. ‘I’m here for my job sheets.’

‘I haven’t got them. I told you that.’

‘You’ve got copies.’

Cor looked at the folder in Niels’s hand. He stayed in the opening, a pen behind his ear. ‘That isn’t your folder. Put it down.’

Niels picked up his phone and pocketed it, then went towards Cor. Lena saw his grip tighten on the folder. Cor neither raised his hands nor advanced. He stayed where he was, one hand against the side of the opening. Out front Nora said, ‘Cor? What’s going on?’

Niels waved her back with a sharp movement. ‘This is a work discussion. You don’t need to be here.’

‘I decide who’s allowed in here,’ Cor said.

Lena looked across the worktable at the passage. From where she stood now, she no longer needed to get past Niels to reach it. She turned a little, putting a hand against the tabletop. She could see Nora’s face behind Cor. Nora looked from Niels to her. Lena shook her head once. Nora didn’t wait for an explanation. She stepped back into the shop, her phone already at her ear.