LITMIR.BIZ

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I asked my rescuing knight.

      He shrugged. ‘I could hardly have stayed in my seat while a girl was sorting it out, could I? They might have stabbed you.’

      ‘They might have stabbed each other too.’

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed, in a way that suggested it wasn’t something he would worry about.

      We got out together at Rotterdam Central Station, said goodbye and went our separate ways. Then he came back towards me.

      ‘I’ll walk with you a while,’ he said. ‘We don’t know where those guys are now.’

      He accompanied me to the tram and I began to suspect ulterior motives. But he didn’t ask for my phone number or suggest we meet for a drink. He put me on the tram, the tram moved off and that was that.

      At least, for that day. I saw him again the next day, standing on the platform, and happiness swept through me. He came over as soon as he spotted me.

      ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘It’s me. You know, from yesterday.’

      ‘Yes, I do remember. Sometimes, if I really try hard, I can even remember things that happened the day before yesterday.’

      He laughed and we took the train together. His name was Raoul and he’d just set up his own software company in Rotterdam. From the way he told me all of this, I could tell that he was single.

      I was telling him about my course when three scruffy-looking musicians entered our carriage. Two played a brisk off-key tune on the guitar while the other one went around with a smelly cap. Raoul shook his head, but I gave the man some small change. Quite a few people gave me irritated glances.

      ‘See those dirty looks,’ I muttered to Raoul.

      ‘Some people find it annoying, they want to read their papers in peace in the mornings,’ Raoul commented. ‘Giving money only encourages begging.’

      ‘I’d rather they asked for money than pickpocketed my purse,’ I replied.

      Raoul grinned. ‘I bet you give a euro to those people who don’t have quite enough cash for their train ticket.’

      I blushed and Raoul shook his head pityingly. ‘You’d have been better off training to be a social worker.’

      The train came to a standstill. The conductor announced that we’d be delayed for an indeterminate period of time, regretfully. I didn’t find it at all regretful.

      As we continued talking, I studied Raoul. Was anything unattractive about him? By the time we pulled into Rotterdam station, I still hadn’t found it.

      We went out a couple of times and during the course of one of those evenings, Raoul told me that he never usually took the train to work. The morning we’d met, smoke had poured out of his car engine and he’d had to take the train. A few days later his car had been repaired, but he’d kept taking the train to see me.

      He was lodging temporarily with his parents in Berkel & Rodenrijs because he’d been able to get a good price for his house and hadn’t found a new one yet. He wanted to move to Rotterdam to be closer to his work.

      A few dates later, I invested my feelings in him and six months later I invested my money in his company. We moved in together and two years after that we got married. Raoul’s business went well, particularly well, so that after we got married we could move into the chic Hillegersberg area, into a beautiful, spacious house with high ceilings and old wooden floors.

      Raoul wanted me to be at home far more than I did – he didn’t want me to work, especially not in a teaching job. But I didn’t study education for four years to sit at home. His complaints got worse when Valerie was born. She’d been going to the crèche for two years, and was very happy there, when Raoul came home one evening and threw a letter down onto the work bench, where I was making pizza.

      ‘Look what I’ve got for you! An invitation to have a chat!’ His smile was broad.

      ‘Do you need to write me an invitation? Are things that bad between us?’ I joked.

      He laughed and kissed my throat. ‘No, you idiot. There’s a vacancy in our PR department and it’s made for you.’

      ‘Public relations? Why would I want to do that?’

      ‘Don’t you like the idea? I think it would be perfect for you,’ Raoul said. ‘It’s a shared part-time job, you can choose between two or three days a week.’

      ‘Raoul, I’ve got a job.’

      ‘But you’re not going to be a teacher for the rest of your life.’ Raoul spread his fingers, a gesture that expressed his incomprehension.

      ‘Why not?’ I turned the oven to 200 degrees and took two purple placemats out of the cupboard. All the accessories in our home are purple; it’s my favourite colour.

      ‘Come on, Lydia! You don’t mean that Rotterdam College is your goal in life, do you?’

      ‘Any school is all right,’ I said, ‘as long as I’m making a difference for my students. And I don’t just mean in terms of their education. Do you get it?’

      Raoul didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look like he got it. He stood there staring at me, his hands in his pockets.

      ‘So you’re not coming to work at Software International?’

      ‘No,’ I said. ‘I know you don’t like Rotterdam College, but I’m happy there.’

      ‘I’m not so sure,’ Raoul said. ‘You always look so tired. I’d rather you didn’t work at all.’

      I smiled at him. ‘Darling, I am always tired, just like you. But I don’t suggest that you sell your company, do I?’

      He didn’t buy it. ‘I just don’t think it’s good for Valerie.’

      My smile disappeared. ‘I’m always home when she finishes school.’

      ‘But she has to have lunch at school four days a week.’

      ‘She really likes having lunch at school!’ I shouted. ‘Why are you pulling a face? You knew beforehand that I wanted to keep on working. I don’t understand why you keep complaining about it. Why don’t you resign from your job?’

      We’re still having this kind of conversation. Raoul is a modern man who will help with the housework and believes in sharing the load equally. He likes modern women who work for a living and contribute to society, but it’s something he appreciates in other women, not me.

12.

      I drive into the school car park at twenty past seven. It’s still very empty. I don’t get out immediately; first I look around. There’s no one to be seen, the playground is deserted. The beautiful wisteria covering the fence is blossoming early this year.

      I walk across the playground. The door is still closed to the students, but Dan, the caretaker, unlocks it for me.

      ‘You’re early!’ he says.

      ‘I just couldn’t wait any longer,’ I say with a weak smile.

      ‘I can imagine,’ Dan chuckles. ‘I find the silence at this time of the morning difficult too.’

      ‘It won’t last much longer.’ I glance at the clock in the corridor. ‘Shall I fetch us some coffee, Dan?’

      ‘Lots of milk, lots of sugar.’ Dan goes back to his caretaker’s office where the phone is ringing.

      I watch him with affection. Dan Riemans could have retired long ago, but instead he’s still faithfully guarding his post. He’s a small, plump man with light blue eyes that usually sparkle

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