Helen nodded. Her elder daughter—who had turned seventeen this summer—had biked straight to her best friend’s after school and would spend the night there. Helen assumed she wouldn’t see Sara again until Sunday evening; the girl treated Wildenbergh like some kind of all-inclusive resort. She was planning to study in Leiden next year, and then she’d come back only on weekends to have her laundry done. Helen didn’t want to think about it too much.

“Mom, I want a tattoo as well,” came a voice from behind the laptop.

Helen looked up in surprise.

Emma gestured over the right-hand side of her body. “Around here, a branch with pink and red flowers.”

“That sounds great.”

Emma’s face veered between disbelief and joy. “Oh, Mom, really?”

“Sure, why not? Maybe you could get a snake on your neck too—it’d be so cool, all the way up to here . . .” She drew a line with her index finger from her cleavage to behind her ear.

Emma’s face fell. “Don’t be stupid, Mom.”

“You started it. We’ll talk about it again when you’re twenty.”

Emma pushed her laptop away. “What about Sara? She’s getting one tomorrow.”

Helen froze. Despite the four-year gap between them, her girls were close.

“Don’t look at me like that,” continued Emma. “She’s going to Antwerp tomorrow with Jackie, and they’re going to get matching tattoos.”

“Oh, even better.” Helen took her cell phone out of her bag and dialed Sara’s number.

“You’ve got a tattoo yourself, you know.”

“I’m forty. Your sister is seventeen.”

The number you have called cannot be reached . . .

Helen tried one more time, against her better judgment. Irritated, she hung up and sent Sara a text, then sent another to Jackie just in case:

Could you tell Sara to call me tonight? Thanks, Helen

Helen rubbed the top of her nose and closed her eyes. She’d been looking forward to this evening. A bubble bath and a nice glass of wine. Peace and quiet. It would have been even better to spend the evening with Werner, but he generally worked late on Fridays, or went back to the Horn of Plenty, his restaurant, after dinner.

Thom looked at the cold oven. “Hey, Mom? What’s for dinner? It’s almost five o’clock.”

5

5

“I’ll see you tonight.” Brian clapped him on the shoulder and then squinted out through the grimy window of the shed.

Brian did look pretty thuggish, thought Ralf. But his girlfriends were always hot. His latest conquest, Naomi, was one of the prettiest girls Ralf knew. Kindhearted. Big dark eyes. Smooth, golden-brown hair. She was so beautiful, he felt bashful whenever she was around. It was embarrassing. That was why he pretended to have no interest in her whatsoever.