Shadow Sister (24 page)

‘It wasn’t that bad,’ I snap. ‘They may have had a few problems, but Raoul didn’t have a reason to murder her. If he’d wanted to get rid of her, he could have divorced her.’

‘But that would have cost him his capital,’ Sylvie reminds me. ‘Lydia owned almost half of the shares of Software International. Even the house was hers. It was given to them by your parents, but it was in her name.’

‘You seem to know a lot about it,’ I say.

‘What did you expect? I also know that he was in love with you for a while. I had difficulty with that but, oh, I knew that you didn’t stand a chance. Raoul finished it a few times, but he always came back. He can’t live without me.’

‘How did it start?’ I don’t really want to know, but another part of me is desperate for information.

Sylvie pushes away her plate and leans back with her glass of wine. ‘How did it start?’ she reflects. ‘I knew Raoul from your birthday parties, but I really got to know him in the gym. We both went two evenings a week and soon we were exercising together and having a drink afterwards. I was going through a rough patch at the time, do you remember? That was when Joachem had just dumped me. I poured my heart out to Raoul and he consoled me. You know what Raoul is like, he can be so sympathetic and kind. He can make you feel like you’re the only person in the room. He got me through that patch, but he did more too, he gave me self-confidence.’ Sylvie takes a sip of wine and smiles at me. ‘I’ve never suffered from a lack of male
attention,’ she continues, ‘but it was not the kind of attention I was looking for. Nobody ever took the trouble to look further, to get to know me as a person. Raoul did and that was what made our relationship so unusual. I was sure that I’d found someone who wouldn’t let me down.’

‘Raoul,’ I begin, choosing my words carefully, ‘is the kind of man who gets to know everyone properly. He’s interested in people, and particularly in women.’

Sylvie’s eyes become slits. ‘And particularly in me. He wanted to leave Lydia. He promised me he’d leave her.’

‘But he didn’t. Is that why you killed her? Were you tired of waiting?’

Sylvie looks around the room, her gaze fixed on a past I’d never known about.

‘You planned to steal Raoul off her right from the start,’ I say, in an attempt at provocation. ‘And you were prepared to go to extremes to get him. Isn’t that right? Tell me I’m wrong.’

Sylvie gives me such a fierce look that my fear returns.

‘Can’t I,’ she begins, full of restrained anger, ‘can’t I have some happiness in my life? Can’t I fall in love for once and get the man? Do you know what it feels like to be dumped again and again? To have everyone abandon you?’

Sylvie turns away, her lips a tight line. I lose my patience. I throw myself at my former friend, grab the pistol from the table and turn it on her.

‘Admit it! You murdered Lydia!’ I scream, beside myself with fury. ‘How could you, Sylvie?! How could you do that to her? How could you do that to me?’

‘I didn’t kill her, you bitch!’ Sylvie screams back. ‘I keep trying to tell you that!’

‘And I’m supposed to believe that? But it doesn’t matter at all what I believe. The police will decide!’

‘You don’t have any proof,’ Sylvie says.

I walk backwards to the door, getting my bag and coat on the
way, the gun pointed at Sylvie the whole time. Sylvie gets up and follows me.

‘Stay there!’

‘As if you’d be able to shoot,’ Sylvie laughs. ‘Come on, Elisa, one day we’ll look back on this and find it funny.’

‘Do you see me laughing? I said, stay there!’

I raise the gun and point it at her chest.

‘You don’t even know how it works,’ Sylvie says, but she doesn’t move. ‘Go to the police, kid. Make yourself look ridiculous. There’s not a single shred of evidence, before you know it I’ll be free again.’

I walk backwards into the corridor. ‘Do you think so? This gun is sufficient proof, Sylvie, and I’m going to take it straight to the police.’ I see a flash of panic in her face. I pull the door shut, run down the stairs and tug open the front door. I run smack bang into a man outside. He grips me by both arms and holds me tightly. I begin to scream and try to break free, until his voice reaches me at last.

‘Calm down, Elisa! What’s happened? Hey, it’s me, Thomas! What have you got there?’

I look in confusion at Thomas’s worried face. Thomas, dear Thomas, always there when you need him the most. I glance at the pistol and then at the front door to the building, as if I’m expecting to see Sylvie appear with a bazooka. But the door remains closed and there’s no sound of running footsteps in the stairwell.

‘What’s happened?’ Thomas repeats and strokes the hair away from my burning face.

‘I’ll explain in a minute. Did you come in the car?’ I fluster.

Thomas nods and points at his old white Opal parked a little further up. I run to it, leaving Thomas no choice but to run after me.

‘Now what is…’

‘To the police station,’ I pant. ‘Quick!’

Thomas starts the engine and as we drive along the Essenburg Canal, I glance up at the second floor, at Sylvie’s apartment. She’s at the window, her arms folded, watching us.

Giving my statement takes a long time. Inspector Noorda is not there, but they call him to say that the murder weapon has been found. When he finally appears, the paperwork has been completed and I have to retell everything in great detail.

I filled in Thomas in the car and learned that I was right, he’d never had a relationship with Sylvie. When we arrive at the police station, he is still in shock. I am too. But another emotion is breaking through my anger: grief. Sylvie. Why did it have to be Sylvie, the only girlfriend I’ve ever had?

‘So if I understand correctly, Ms Roelofs stayed behind in her apartment when you fled,’ Noorda says.

‘Yes, but I don’t know if she’s still there.’

‘There’s every chance she’s gone.’ Noorda gives orders for a car to be despatched to the Essenburger Canal right away. ‘With a bit of luck, Ms Roelofs will be brought in shortly. I’d like to have a little chat with her, and with Mr Salentijn too, as it happens.’

‘Will Sylvie be arrested?’ Thomas enquires. I register the surprise and pain in his expression and I don’t blame him. I feel the same.

‘Not directly. First we’ll have her in for questioning, and depending on what transpires, we’ll decide whether to keep her in or not,’ Noorda explains.

‘I don’t want to be here when she arrives,’ I say.

‘We’ll take you home and keep you informed.’

Thomas and I stand up.

‘I’ll take her home,’ Thomas says, and glancing at me, he adds, ‘And I’ll stay with you. You can’t be on your own.’

‘I’ll manage,’ I say. If I need anything right now, it’s to be left in peace and quiet. And I need Raoul too, but it would be insensitive to say that. Thomas’s eyes have the hopeful look of a knight protector who can’t wait to rescue the princess and shower her in love. That’s not what I need; not from him, in any case.

‘You don’t need to stay with me, Thomas,’ I say as we get into the car. ‘I’ve got a terrible headache.’

‘Then you go off to bed and I’ll sit downstairs,’ Thomas suggests as he drives away from the police station.

‘It’s not necessary.’

‘I think it is. Next thing you know Sylvie will be outside your door.’

‘I’ll lock the front door. She’s lost her gun, she can’t do anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it. I think she’s crazy, and crazy people are unpredictable.’ Thomas drives along Pompenburg, towards Kralingen.

I rest my hand on his arm. ‘I want to tell Raoul about this and I need to have quite a difficult conversation with him. Could you take me to Juliana van Stolberg Avenue?’

Thomas’s face tightens. ‘If you want me to.’

I give him my sweetest smile. ‘You’re a dear.’

He smiles again, happy with the smallest scrap I throw his way. I sigh, my conscience heavy.

‘The thing I don’t understand,’ Thomas says, ‘is that you really believed I was going out with Sylvie.’

‘That was what she told me.’

‘And you just believed it!’

I shrug my shoulders and feel Thomas’s hand on mine. ‘

Elisa,’ he says. ‘You know there’s only one person for me, don’t you?’

I look down at my hand, embarrassed; it’s almost completely covered by his. Oh my god, he’s going to declare his intentions. Dear Thomas, please don’t. Please just stay my most faithful and best friend. A few more words and our friendship will be destroyed. I don’t know if I could bear that.

Thomas must be telepathic because he doesn’t pronounce the words that could ruin everything. He does keep holding my hand until we turn into Juliana van Stolberg Avenue. He stops right outside Raoul’s door.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I’ll call you, all right?’

Thomas just nods.

I get out and go down the garden path. I turn around to wave to Thomas from the doorway, but he’s already gone.

‘What are you doing here?’ Raoul opens the door and kisses me on both cheeks.

‘I need to talk to you.’

Raoul leads me into the sitting room. It’s quiet, the volume on the television is turned down and Valerie is already in bed.

I stand in front of Lydia and Raoul’s wedding photo, which is in a silver frame on the dresser, and look at it for a long time. Next to it is a picture of Valerie as a newborn in her mother’s arms.

The pain of one particular memory shoots through me. I remember Valerie’s birth, how difficult it was and what Lydia went through to bring her daughter into the world. But afterwards she was happy, so happy. She lay in bed, weak from the blood loss, but I’ll never forget her expression when she looked
at her baby. ‘A daughter. Just what I wanted. We’ll share so much.’ I look at the photo with a heavy heart.

‘What’s this all about?’

The pictures from Sylvie’s scrapbook flash through my mind, replacing the image of Lydia’s wedding photo. Bitterness courses through me. I take a step towards Raoul, and slap his face. ‘I know everything, Raoul.’

‘Everything?’ He rubs his cheek. ‘Everything about what?’

‘About your relationship with Sylvie.’

I see the shock in his eyes. He’s taken aback for an instant, but then he recovers. ‘I’m not having a relationship with Sylvie,’ he says.

The wave of anger washes colour into my face. ‘Don’t lie,’ I shout. ‘Sylvie told me everything.’

Raoul represses a sigh. ‘I’m not seeing Sylvie,’ he repeats, as he goes towards the bar. ‘Not anymore.’

I follow him with my eyes as he gets out a bottle of whisky.

‘You too?’ he offers.

I shake my head and continue to stare at him with furious eyes.

‘We did have a relationship,’ Raoul says, ‘but it’s been over for a long time. How did you find out about it?’

‘I’ve seen photos.’ I think about the intimate pictures, the love letters, the restaurant visiting cards, and the grief I felt when I first saw them rises up in me again.

‘Photos?’

‘Sylvie kept a scrapbook,’ I say. ‘Full of pictures of the two of you. And every note you ever scribbled to her. Restaurant and hotel receipts and cards.’ Some of my pain must be visible because when our eyes meet I see it reflected in Raoul’s.

‘Oh, Elisa…’ he says. ‘I so hoped you’d never find out.’

I look at the familiar face opposite me, the face of a man I’ve loved so much – who I still love, in spite of everything. ‘Yes, I can imagine,’ I say.

Raoul takes a large sip of whisky. ‘I don’t mean that I would have preferred to keep the lie going, but sometimes you do stupid things you can’t undo afterwards,’ he admits. ‘Sylvie was such idiocy. A mistake, a slip up. I wanted to leave it at the one blunder, but she carried on playing up to me. She didn’t care that I was married and had a child. She said that she didn’t expect anything and continued to offer herself to me. I should have kept my distance, but I’ll admit it, I was weak. She’s so pretty. I’ve never seen such an attractive woman.’ Raoul shrugs. ‘I know it’s a cliché, I don’t think that you will be able to understand it, but I couldn’t resist her.’

‘For how long?’

‘A few months,’ Raoul says. ‘In the beginning I couldn’t get enough of her, but after a while something changed. It became
obvious that we didn’t have anything to talk about. I’d take her out for dinner, a long way from Rotterdam, and she’d show me how long her fingernails were, or she’d tell me every little thing she’d read about celebrities in her magazines. We didn’t have much in common.’ Raoul looks at me. We can talk, that glance says, we’re on the same wavelength, what we have is much deeper.

‘Was that what you were looking for in Sylvie? A good conversation?’

Raoul gives me an embarrassed smile and takes another sip of whisky. ‘Not at first, of course, but I did find it important later. Please believe me, I really regretted it. Particularly when Lydia sensed that something was up, that I was having an affair.’

Raoul swirls the contents of his glass around and gives me a look that makes words unnecessary. I feel a shiver run through my body, but I can’t say which emotion has brought it on. I stand in front of the dresser and Raoul comes towards me. I look into his dark handsome face, feel his warm fingers on my cold skin, experience the consoling caress of his thumbs. I take a deep breath, this is just his thumbs.

Nevertheless, I take a step back. ‘You should have worked at your marriage, Lydia deserved that.’

Raoul’s eyes travel over to his silver-framed wedding photo. ‘I know I’ve disappointed you, but my affair with Sylvie doesn’t mean anything. My feelings for Lydia and for you have always been sincere. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, I didn’t want to cause you any pain, I didn’t want to tell you how crazy I was about you, because I didn’t have anything to offer. I would never have done that to Lydia. It would have destroyed your bond.’

‘How noble of you,’ I say. ‘You know what, Raoul, I feel like I’m only getting to know you properly now. And do you know what I’m seeing? A bastard.’

The words hit home. Raoul blanches, but I’m not sorry for what I’ve said.

‘I was always straight with Sylvie. I told her many times that I was never going to leave Lydia.’