‘Haven’t seen much of Mrs Janssen this week,’ says Alfonso.
‘No,’ says Daan revealing nothing.
‘Everything all right?’ Alfonso’s gaze slips down the length of Daan’s body. Does he notice the dirty tracksuit, are there tell-tale dark patches of sweat on his T-shirt? Daan thinks he can feel sweat on his top lip, his hair is greasy, his eyes are probably bloodshot, he can’t remember when he was last entirely sober. Daan thinks Alfonso’s question is impertinent, or his gaze. Both. His face turns icy to allow Alfonso to know this is what he is thinking and therefore to close him down, swiftly. Alfonso does clock Daan’s irritation and colours slightly. ‘Oh, sorry, don’t mean to pry. It’s just with the police being here, I started worrying about her. She’s such a nice lady, your wife. Always asks about mine.’
Daan doesn’t want Alfonso to be his friend, but nor does he want him to be an enemy either. Typical that Kai knew Alfonso was married, that she took an interest. She always did appear to be interested in everything and everyone. Bitch.
Daan doesn’t want to answer the question and he learnt long ago that you don’t always have to, so instead he comments, ‘I’m just getting a bit of exercise, taking the stairs rather than the lift. Trying to hit twenty thousand steps a day.’
Alfonso whistles, ‘Twenty thousand? I’m lucky if I hit five thousand. Very sedentary job, mine.’
‘Yes, mine too, but I try.’
‘You wouldn’t find it easier just working out in the gym?’ Alfonso asks.
Daan tries not to look startled at being challenged. ‘Of course, that’s where I’ve just come from.’ It would at least explain why he is sweating, breathless.
‘Oh, I must have missed you. Normally I notice who is working out or swimming.’ Alfonso meets Daan’s gaze. ‘You know, the cameras.’
Daan has forgotten about the internal security cameras. Casting his mind back now he remembers at one residents’ committee meeting an argument between residents as to whether internal cameras were an important security measure or an invasion of privacy. There were enough residents with nefarious goings-on who didn’t want their every move monitored. They’d take the risk of dealing with burglars. Daan hadn’t got involved in the argument, he didn’t much care. He vaguely recalls that the compromise reached was that cameras were installed in the gym and pool but not in the corridors. The argument being something about health and safety in communal areas. He hadn’t understood the reasoning at the time, thought perhaps Alfonso was the only one to benefit because he could ogle the fitties as they exercised. Daan is glad now that there aren’t any cameras in the corridors.
‘I didn’t stay long today. Got there and realised I just didn’t have the energy to work out. Just turned straight back around at the door.’ Daan flashes Alfonso a big smile. Then he remembers that the best form of defence is attack and asks, ‘So why are you skulking around the back stairs, after hours, Alfonso? Anything I need to be concerned about?’
It was bolshie, rude, but it does the job. Alfonso looks defensive. ‘I’m not skulking, just checking about. Doing my job. Seeing everything is OK before I clock off for the weekend.’ He is self-justifying which makes a person appear shifty. ‘One of the residents said she’s heard things.’
‘What sort of things?’
‘Well, she wasn’t sure. Some shouting or crying, she said. It might have just been someone’s TV.’
Daan and Alfonso meet one another’s eyes and neither likes what they see. ‘What do you make of this pandemic business?’ Daan asks.
‘I don’t know what to make of it.’
‘My guess is we will all be locked down next week.’
‘You think?’
‘Most likely. You’ll probably be better staying at home. I’ll send out an email to the residents, if you like, confirming that.’
‘Well, we’ll see, shall we?’ counters Alfonso. ‘No need to action anything yet. I’ll come in if I can.’
‘Oh, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.’
Alfonso nods, as Daan knew he would and he turns away, heads back down the stairs. Daan waits until he hears his footsteps fade to nothing, the sound of the door opening back to reception, then carries on upwards.
27
Kylie
Thursday 19th March
I need to keep communicating. I need to answer the questions asked and even those that haven’t been put to me yet. Carefully, I push on. ‘I realised that planning an enormous, expensive wedding was not only cruel but unsafe,’ I admit. ‘Even though I was going under a different name, there was always the risk of being physically recognised. You both moved in different circles but the further I widened those circles, the greater the risk of being found out. I had to draw in. Make both lives smaller.’
Daan had lots of family, friends and people from work he wanted to invite, he assumed I would want the same, I immediately vetoed colleagues, that was the easiest win.
‘I don’t want to get married in front of a room full of co-workers,’ I’d argued.
‘Why not?’
‘It doesn’t feel intimate enough. Co-workers are transient, they are not friends.’
‘OK, if that’s how you feel.’ He looked a little bit disappointed but wanted me to be happy. Brightening, he added, ‘I’m really looking forward to meeting your friends, though.’ He never had and he must have thought that was odd. He was the sort of boyfriend women would generally want to show off.
‘They’re looking forward to meeting you too,’ I lied. ‘It’s just my closest friends don’t live in London, and they all have young families so are pretty absorbed in their own lives.’
‘Tell me about them again. So, there’s Ginny, who you met in college. She’s married with two kids, right? And Emma is a single mum. Tell me a little more about Alex, you hardly talk about her.’
I hardly talked about any of them. Despite his probing questions, I tried to keep them at a distance. These women
