“Yeah, that’s my car.”

Werner nodded thoughtfully. He broke eye contact only after a few long seconds, turning away from Ralf and raising his voice. “All right, guys, that’ll do. Thank you for your help. We’ll take care of the rest tomorrow.” Then he walked out of the garage.

Sara and Naomi came up to Ralf. Floris placed a garbage bag against the wall and joined them.

“Awful, isn’t he?” Sara shot an angry look at the garage door, which Werner had just closed behind him.

Ralf shrugged. “He’s not so bad.”

She shot him a dismissive look. “Oh, come on. He’s never at home, always busy with his work . . .” She placed a derisive emphasis on the last two words. “And when he is here, he runs around issuing orders. I mean, take this, for example. Thom throws a party, and my dad treats his friends like employees. It’s not right!”

Nobody spoke for a moment.

Jackie broke the silence. “He gives you everything you want, though. Your clothes, that expensive scooter. Remember when your mother wouldn’t buy you that coat? He was the one who got it for you.”

“Yeah, sure, he can buy us things all right. That’s easy enough. But he never actually does anything for us, because he doesn’t actually care about us.”

“Of course he does.”

Sara’s face hardened. “He never asks us how we’re doing at school, or how we’re feeling. It doesn’t interest him. He cares more about those restaurants than about his own children. You know, sometimes—sometimes I really wish someone would teach him a lesson. Just give him a good smack in the mouth.”

Naomi looked at her in shock. “Jeez, get ahold of yourself! That’s your father you’re talking about.”

She shrugged. “You can have him.”

Saturday

Saturday

1

1

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” mumbled Werner. He was standing at the kitchen island in a pair of sweatpants and a V-neck T-shirt, buttering bread. “I put the bags in your car and cleaned the freezer.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“Not really. I think I might go back to bed in a couple of minutes.”

Helen took some yogurt with muesli from the fridge and sat down at the table. On weekday mornings, the kitchen was noisy and chaotic. MTV or Comedy Central would be on, and there would be tablets and phones scattered among the breakfast plates, books, cups, and unzipped schoolbags.

Right now, it was quiet.