The Darkness that Divides Us. Renate Dorrestein
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At the rectory, the door was opened by the Luducos, dressed in black tails and bowties. Their sparse hair was slicked back with gel, which made their kindly faces look even more clueless than usual. ‘May we take your coats, sir, madam?’ they asked us.
We stared at them open-mouthed.
‘Today we are the butlers,’ Duco whispered. He was still wearing his stinky sneakers; that’s how we could tell it was him.
In the hall Lucy and Thomas were busy tickling each other to death, so we stepped into the living room. Our spirits immediately rose. Such a spread of pies, cakes of all kinds and all sizes, and white-bread finger sandwiches cut into triangles! We were allowed to help ourselves to as much as we liked, said Lucy’s mum, and if anyone didn’t like tea, there was orange squash, too. She was padding around on bare feet and had a bright-red scarf knotted around her head, which made her look even less like somebody’s mother than usual. You couldn’t imagine her ever sacrificing herself for Lucy, or becoming invisible or anything.
The news about the orange squash came as a huge relief. We completely forgot to shake hands. We fell upon the food, ravenous.
As we were stuffing our faces, Lucy and Thomas entered the room, their hair all messed up. ‘I had him begging for mercy,’ laughed Lucy. Lovingly, she started pummelling his big round head.
‘But you peed in your pants!’
‘Not true!’
‘Do try to leave your fiancé in one piece, darling!’ said her mother. ‘And now, let’s raise our glasses to you two, shall we? Does everyone have tea or squash? What about our butlers?’
‘We’re having iced tea,’ said Duco, with a grin. He raised his glass.
‘Cheers!’ Ludo, too, waved his glass. When he looked at Lucy, all these little laugh-lines appeared around his eyes. He nodded almost imperceptibly, as if to say, ‘Ah, that Lucy!’ At home our daddies sometimes acted that way, too, if they were feeling particularly proud of you. It gave you the delicious feeling that you were capable of just about anything; fathers could do that just by gazing at you a certain way. That Ludo sure would make a great father one day. He sometimes gazed at Lucy’s mother with that same kind of look in his eyes—you know, the way mothers love to be looked at. Is that a new dress you’re wearing, darling? Have you done something with your hair? That colour looks great on you. No doubt about it: Ludo would definitely make the grade. Only he’d better get a move on with it. He was no spring chicken.
‘Right, my little turtledoves,’ said Lucy’s mother cheerfully. ‘Here’s to the two of you!’
We all cheered Hurray! at the top of our lungs.
Next came the opening of the presents. It was so embarrassing—our mothers had bought them things like a Barbie’s wedding gown, or toys for playing father-and-mother. There was also quite an assortment of Tupperware. Weird. We didn’t get it.
‘Oh you lucky things,’ said Lucy’s mother. ‘I’ll have to borrow those from you sometime. So tell us, Thomas, do you feel settled in yet? Do you like it out here?’
‘I didn’t, at first,’ said Thomas. ‘But now I do.’
‘You can tell your mum and dad that I’ll come over to meet them very soon. Oh blimey, I should have invited them, shouldn’t I!’
‘You can invite them to the wedding,’ said Duco.
Ludo asked, ‘And do your parents like living here too?’
‘Yeah, they do. Our house in Opzand wasn’t like here. Everything’s so new and clean here.’
‘Opzand?’ Lucy’s mother suddenly looked as if she’d sat down on a thumbtack.
‘Really? We used to live there too!’ said Ludo enthusiastically. ‘In one of those old cottages down by the dike. We used to say it was …’ He looked at Lucy’s mother for help, but she didn’t seem to notice. She downed her glass in two, three big gulps. She’d gone all white.
‘Idyllic,’ said Duco, ‘that was the word, Ludo. But I don’t remember any family by the name of The Rat.’
‘Silly,’ said Lucy fondly, ‘that’s not his real name.’
‘But isn’t that what it said on the invitation?’
‘My last name’s Iedema,’ said Thomas.
‘Iedema!’ cried Ludo. ‘You mean the florist?’
Duco snickered. ‘Well, well! What did your parents think of Lucy’s card?’
‘I didn’t let them see it,’ said Thomas. ‘No need for them to know I’m with her.’ He rolled his head in a gesture that took in the whole messy room, including the spider webs in the corners of the ceiling.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Ludo. ‘Lucy has snagged herself an Iedema!’
‘I still remember it like yesterday, the time your father …’ Duco started to laugh, his eyes crinkling with mirth.
Lucy’s mother stood up so abruptly that her chair nearly toppled backward. ‘I am really disappointed in you, Thomas.’ Her voice came out sounding throttled. ‘I don’t like sneaky children who do things behind their parents’ backs!’
There was a baffled silence.
‘But Mum,’ said Lucy. ‘It’s only because his mum gets so worried about him getting dirty. She was already in such a state the time he came home dripping wet …’
‘Dirty? Who’s dirty? Are you? Well, well, isn’t that a nice thing for a boyfriend to say!’
‘What’s got into you?’ asked Ludo, astonished.
‘I won’t have that little sneak in my house. I won’t have Lucy going around with the likes of him. If I’d known, I’d have …’
‘Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute,’ said Duco. ‘We were having a party.’
‘Anyway, we’re already engaged, so there!’ cried Lucy. ‘Too late!’ She pulled a rude yah-boo face at her mum.
We were so agitated we couldn’t help going into hysterical laughter. The Luducos started laughing too; they didn’t have to set a good example, or raise anybody. The more everyone laughed, the more it felt as if Lucy’s mum must have been kidding.
We spent the rest of the afternoon playing up in the attic. We must have spent an hour playing the Monkey Game, and then The Duchess’s Visit. We played as if our lives depended on it. That was always the best solution, we’d found, if you didn’t understand what was bugging the grown-ups.
-
C is for Crisis
It was only a matter of days now before we’d finally, finally, be learning to read and write. This milestone involved stiff, brand-new clothes, and also pencil cases, gleaming rulers, and big boxes of markers, pens, and coloured pencils. We sharpened