gets a towel and dries her hair.
‘Why do hairdressers always cut shorter than you want?’
‘Otherwise I get the feeling I haven’t really done anything.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘You can sit up now. Does Wilbert know already?’
‘I don’t know. Coco will tell him. He doesn’t come here anymore, does he?’
‘Not for a long time. Used to see him in the bar here sometimes, but that was years ago too.’
‘Doesn’t drink anymore, does he,’ Elisabeth says.
‘Cause of that woman of his, isn’t it.’
‘Yes.’
‘Maybe better that way.’
‘Hmm.’ She shrugs.
-
THE DRINKS HAVE been ordered already. Coco’s father and stepmother (who prefers to be called Miriam) are still holding the large menu cards. Hans has put his menu down, his fingers on two different dishes. He wants the prawn chow mein, but with sole and a different sauce.
It suddenly occurs to Coco that it would be odd to wait until the starters with her news. She has already waited until Wednesday, until they are here, until they have taken off their coats, until they have sat down, but now she’s got this far, her perfect timing seems banal.
‘I think I’ll have the ti pan sole,’ her father says.
‘Mum’s ill,’ Coco says.
‘Ill?’ Miriam asks. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘Bumped into her on the Overtoom.’
‘What’s she got then?’ her father asks.
‘Seriously,’ Coco says. ‘I mean she’s seriously ill.’
Her father and stepmother put down their menus.
‘What is it, dear?’ Miriam asks.
‘Cancer.’
‘What kind of cancer?’ her father asks.
‘Kidney, I think. Is that possible?’
Miriam says, ‘Gosh, sweetie, and you’re telling us this now? When did you hear?’
‘Monday.’
‘Why didn’t you call us?’
‘I’m telling you now, aren’t I?’
‘Is she going to die?’ her father asks.
‘I think so,’ Coco says. Hans is sitting silently next to her like a new recruit, patiently waiting for his turn to speak.
‘Did she say that?’
‘Not in so many words, but they aren’t treating her anymore.’
‘And you’ve been carrying that around since Monday?’ Miriam says. ‘Why didn’t you call?’ The waitress approaches. Miriam puts up her hand, like a traffic officer stopping a car. The waitress immediately slows down.
‘Could you just give us a moment,’ Miriam whispers.
‘Shall we give the Indonesian rice table a go?’ Coco asks. ‘Seems like a nice idea to have the rice table for once.’
‘Of course, sweetie,’ Miriam says.
‘Fine,’ her father says. Everyone is looking at Hans now.
‘Actually, I was really looking forward to that sauce I had last time and then with the sole, seemed like such a good combination.’
‘We don’t have to…’
‘Let’s just have the rice table,’ Miriam says.
‘It’s for two or for four people,’ her father reads out.
‘What nonsense,’ Hans says, ‘if you can make a rice table for two, you can make it for three as well.’ He raises his hand.
‘Miss? Miss?’
The waitress comes to their table.
‘We’d like a rice table for three people… and…’
‘Rice table is for two or for four people.’
‘Then we’d like one and a half rice tables.’
‘It’s only possible for two or four people.’
Coco says, ‘We’ll take it for four, it’ll get eaten.’
‘No, this is nonsense,’ Hans says. ‘Chinese is always too much.’
‘We’ll take the portion for two,’ Coco says.
Hans gives the waitress a stern look and asks, ‘But why can’t you make a three-person rice table?’
The young waitress blushes and repeats, ‘It’s only possible for two or for four.’
‘But you do understand that this is nonsense,’ Hans says, ‘you can just adjust the quantities, can’t you? I’d understand completely if you didn’t want to do a rice table for one, but three is different. You just make a two-person portion a bit bigger, don’t you?’
The waitress says, ‘I’ll go and ask.’
‘Is this really necessary?’ Coco asks.
‘She’s talking nonsense,’ Hans says, ‘isn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ says Miriam, who can’t stop smiling, ‘of course it should be possible for three people.’
An older waitress comes to their table.
‘You’d like the rice table?’
‘Yes,’ says Hans, ‘we’d like the rice table for three people.’
‘I’ll ask the chef what he can do.’ The waitress goes to take the menus.
‘And then,’ Hans says, ‘I’d like the chow mein number 35, but with the sole, and the oyster sauce from number 42. Is that possible?’
‘Of course, chow mein 35 with sole and oyster sauce.’
After the waitress has walked away with the menus, Hans leans back, grinning.
‘See, you only have to ask.’
Her father has been playing with the beer mats all this time, he’s built a house with them.
