Safe as Houses by Simone van der Vlugt Page B

‘Like I said, not much. A few snippets.’
    Kreuger crosses his arms. ‘They showed a photo of my family. There they were, right in my face, all three of them.’
    The coffee beans have run out. Happy with this excuse to delay her reaction, Lisa adds some more. Then she gathers her courage.
    â€˜Do you have three children?’
    â€˜Two,’ he says. ‘A boy and a girl. Around the same age as your daughter.’
    â€˜Nice, a boy and a girl. We call that a king’s wish, don’t we?’ He must have noticed the fake enthusiasm in her voice.
    â€˜That’s what they say, yes.’ It doesn’t sound like a wish that came true.
    There’s a silence, which Lisa breaks by pressing a button. The coffee beans are milled with an enormous clatter. When they’re ready, she presses another button and the coffee streams into the two cups. What does Kreuger want from her? He isrestless; perhaps he’s looking for distractions. The problem is that having a conversation with him is like taking a walk through a minefield. She can’t ask him anything about his wife, but perhaps she can talk about his children. They’ve probably been placed with a foster family or are in a children’s home.
    â€˜Do you miss them?’ she asks, feeling like she’s jumping off a mountain blindfolded.
    The crushing grip on her arm comes as no surprise.
    â€˜And why wouldn’t I miss them? Eh? Why do you think I wouldn’t miss my own children? Because I’ve got a criminal record? Maybe you can’t imagine it, but I do have feelings. Did you think I didn’t have any feelings, you filthy bitch?’
    His shouting fills the kitchen. Lisa is scared, but she doesn’t shrink back, look down or begin to sob.
    With all the self-control she can muster, she sticks out her bandaged hand and lays it on his arm.
    â€˜Of course you have feelings,’ she says gently. ‘And of course you miss your children.’
    His rage disappears just as quickly as it surfaced. His face contorts, and the vacant expression returns to his eyes.
    â€˜I’m not allowed to see them any more,’ he says tonelessly. ‘Never again. Can you imagine that?Their own father? But that didn’t matter to the judge. I’m forbidden from seeing them.’
    â€˜How terrible for you . . .’
    â€˜Yes.’ A confused expression appears on his face, as though he doesn’t understand quite what he’s doing here.
    â€˜My ex tried to take Anouk away from me,’ Lisa says.
    Kreuger massages his forehead with his thumb.
    â€˜I told you that he was jealous, didn’t I?’ She offers Kreuger one of the cups of coffee. He takes it but doesn’t drink. ‘That jealousy of his ruined our lives. He was jealous of everything, particularly that I had a career and he didn’t. He was a manager at a large supermarket, but got made redundant when they restructured. Suddenly he was at home and had all the time in the world to get involved in what I was doing. I was working at a research lab in Utrecht and carpooling with a colleague. A nice guy, but just a colleague. I never thought that Mark would make a fuss about it. At first he didn’t, but after he lost his job he started to worry about everything. I reassured him that he could trust me. But he didn’t. It only got better when I became pregnant with Anouk.’
    Lisa sips from her coffee. Their eyes make contact for a moment and then she looks down.
    In a quiet, toneless voice, she tells him about thepost-natal depression that overcame her after Anouk was born, about the dark, dead-end world she inhabited at that time.
    â€˜Mark looked after me really well. Even though he’d found a job by then, he took over all my chores: doing the shopping, taking Anouk for her check-ups, you name it. In the meantime, my world became smaller and smaller. My whole life took place inside the house. In