While the successive baths took effect in the ebonite container, he sat waiting on a low packing case, elbows on knees, head bowed. Now and then he looked at his watch, undid the strap and fastened it again. It was very quiet, no sound from outside penetrated the darkroom, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the basement besides himself. He reflected on all that had happened in the past week, starting with that phone call from Elly last Monday. He counted the days. It was Friday now! I have to be in Amsterdam tomorrow at five, make that phone calclass="underline" number 38776!
Dorbeck has made a new man of me, he thought.
Not until half past eight that evening did Labare allow him to leave the house.
‘I ought to keep you indoors all the time, really, as I have a feeling you’re a risk outside, but I had one chap staying here who went clean round the twist being stuck inside twenty-four hours a day. And that was a sight more risky for us.’
Osewoudt had developed and thinned ten films, which had taken him ten hours straight. He hadn’t even had a proper meal, just a piece of bread from time to time without interrupting his work.
The fresh air had a sweet smell. He couldn’t recall the air ever smelling so sweet. He took deep breaths to empty his lungs of the lingering stench of chemicals and cigarette smoke.
Ten minutes later he rang the bell of the narrow hairdresser’s shop. The glass in the door was not curtained, so he could see Marianne coming from afar. Rather than a white smock she had on a white blouse with a dark skirt.
He shook hands with her, and hesitated: I’d like to kiss her, he thought, but didn’t.
‘Hello Filip.’
She sniffed the air a few times, inaudibly; all he saw was her nostrils flaring.
‘You smell of formaldehyde.’
‘You smell of perfume. I wouldn’t know what kind, though, I know nothing about perfume.’
‘Cuir de Russie. Formaldehyde reminds me of the dissecting room.’
‘Then it may not be such a good idea for me to come in,’ Osewoudt said as he followed her up the stairs. ‘I don’t want you mistaking me for someone else.’
‘Don’t worry, you’re not that pale.’
Then he asked: ‘So how did you get on? Did you go to Amsterdam? Did you pass on that message for me?’
‘Yes, of course.’
They went into a warm room, small but not particularly narrow, more or less square.
‘Who did you speak to? Mr Nauta himself?’
‘Yes, I did. There was nothing the matter.’
‘Nothing the matter, you say? What about the telephone?’
‘Your Mr Nauta said he’d had the phone taken out as he’s giving up the business. He doesn’t want to sell his feathers to the Germans, he won’t have Kraut whores wearing his feathers. Why Filip, you look surprised. I thought he was a nice old gent, digging his heels in like that.’
Marianne laughed, reached out to him and began to unbutton his overcoat.
Osewoudt said: ‘All right, all right.’ He undid the last button himself and laid the coat over the back of a chair.
‘How did you introduce yourself?’
‘I said what you told me to say. I said: Henri sends his regards. I’ve brought an envelope for Elly. Wasn’t that what you meant? That was what you told me to say, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. And did you get to see Elly?’
‘No, she’d left a few days earlier, Mr Nauta said. He explained what happened. She arrived there on the Monday evening with a nephew of his, and the nephew was married to his daughter! Can you imagine? He said his daughter’s much older than the nephew; I had the idea he wasn’t very fond of the daughter, he thought she was mean and could imagine why his nephew would go off with someone else.’
‘What was the nephew called?’
‘He didn’t say. What’s it to you anyway?’
‘Oh, nothing. Carry on. The nephew brought the girl to his house, then what?’
‘I wish you’d sit down. You’re not in a hurry, are you? No one ever comes to visit me here.’
Osewoudt sat down. Marianne dropped on to the divan. She folded her legs beneath her and rested her hand on them. He saw that she was wearing smart stockings; he took another good look at her, thinking she must have dressed up for him. Cautiously, he sniffed her perfume. Cuir de Russie.
‘So Mr Nauta didn’t know when Elly would be back, then?’
‘No. It went like this. He said: I’m not prejudiced, I didn’t mind putting them up for the night. I wouldn’t have known where else to send them anyway. It was already close to eleven when they arrived. But I didn’t feel like having them for weeks on end, he said. He said it wouldn’t have been fair on his daughter.
‘The nephew left fairly early the next morning. The girl stayed. She didn’t go out all day. By eleven that night the nephew still hadn’t come back. The girl then knocked on Nauta’s door and asked if his nephew, or rather his son-in-law — I don’t know how she referred to him — had said anything in particular. When he’d be back, for instance.
‘At that point Mr Nauta apparently began to lose his temper. He said that he wasn’t prejudiced, but that there were limits. The man wasn’t prejudiced, he must have told me that a hundred times! Right then, no prejudices, but there were limits! The poor girl took the hint and left the next morning.’
‘He sent her packing without an ID card?’
‘Yes, I think so. She probably hadn’t mentioned that she didn’t have one. Whatever. What are you getting worked up about?’
‘Wouldn’t you be worked up if you’d gone to a lot of trouble to get a good ID card for someone and they went off without it, just like that?’
‘It’s annoying, of course.’
‘What did you do with the ID card? Did you give it to him anyway?’
‘No, I’m not that stupid. Nor did I tell him about the Elly girl not having an ID card. Because people are bad and you don’t find out just how bad until you’re living under German occupation, like now. Don’t you agree, Filip? I thought if I told that man she had no ID he might phone the police! Whether he’s prejudiced or not! Or he’ll let it slip in conversation with his daughter, and then the daughter …’
Osewoudt drew a deep breath and said: ‘It was very sensible of you not to mention that. Did you pass him the other message, about Ria and her mother-in-law having been arrested, I mean?’
‘No, you said I was only to tell him that if there was something strange going on with his telephone. So there was no need to.’
‘It was more than just a password,’ Osewoudt muttered.
‘What did you say?’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘Oh yes you did. Did I do something wrong? But I’m positive I said exactly what you told me to say! I didn’t make any mistakes! I’m very careful about things like that.’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘But of course I believe you.’
‘I say, Filip … did you ever meet this Elly girl, by any chance?’
‘Never set eyes on her. Why do you ask?’
Marianne turned her hand briefly palm upwards, then laid it on her leg again: ‘If you knew her you might be able to track her down. Mightn’t you?’
Osewoudt got up from his chair. He looked at the three Japanese cups ranged on a sideboard of brown oak, he looked at the picture on the wall above: Whistler’s Portrait of the Painter’s Mother, complete with a prose poem beneath. Well, well, Uncle Bart, so you threw her out, he thought. So much for not being prejudiced.
‘I say, Filip, do you know what I think?’
He went over to the divan and sat beside her.
‘What do you think?’
‘You’re a nice boy, but it’s as clear as daylight! She’s gone to the nephew, of course, that nephew of Nauta’s, the nephew-cum-son-in-law! She must have known where he was!’