Dead Men (Marie and Lotte Book 1) (9 page)

“It was some nameless holding company that bought it,” said Lotte. “I’m sure they will simply renovate it and sell it again. But I don’t care if it was sold to the zoo as the new monkey house so they could have got The Ruminant as part of the deal!” We both doubled up with laughter.

I would never reveal to her that it was one of my holding companies that had bought it at a price that was considerably more than the true market value and at the same time had offered her a small apartment close to the city center at a price much less than market value. It didn’t matter. Lotte was my friend and now she didn’t have to live with an idiot who didn’t deserve her. So I lost money on the whole deal but that was insignificant compared to Lotte now having her own space. In some ways she was still the same Lotte, but more of the real person was coming out. Her spontaneity and joy of life, her poetic descriptions and optimistic attitude were all enhanced and they all rubbed off on me. It was like a nice hot bath in rose milk to be with Lotte and she was mine.

“I miss having a lover now,” she admitted. “Since The Ruminant’s out of my life I can think about sex and not shudder and want to cross my legs at the thought anymore. What about you? Have you gotten over Verner’s death now?”

I didn’t answer right away because it was a tough question. Of course I couldn’t be honest and say that I had never been sad, but only tremendously happy to have get rid of him. I was ready to find a man for a new project, but knew that here in Denmark I would need to be with someone for at least a year before it could all tragically end. I would have to do again what I had done only recently; go abroad and find my fun.

“He didn’t treat me very well Lotte and there can be little grief when before there was so much pain. I really don’t miss him at all.”

I looked at Lotte to see if my confession puzzled or offended her; I had learned what it could do to a friendship when I was honest. I’m better at listening and supporting than opening up. I tend to present a front that I’m very private and reserved when it comes to my personal life.

Lotte didn’t really seem to notice that generally I said much less than her and that I rarely, if ever, talked about what was going on inside me. As a rule, people were just thrilled that they could be heard unconditionally and I just enjoyed listening and watching. As a spider in my web, I vigilantly observed the world around me and wait for the right prey to tumble into my arms. Observation. That’s what I did and I’m very good at it.

“Oh Marie, I think I understand you quite well now and I’m not going to judge you. You deserved so much better than Verner and, as you’ve shown me, you seem to have been in the wrong place when you met him. Come to think of it, none of the men you have told me about has treated you lovingly; maybe we’re both just always looking in the wrong places? I am sure we will both find true love at some point; maybe we need to go abroad? I heard American men can be charming and good fun; perhaps we should do a trip to the States and go on a man hunt?”

Well my hunt would be very different than hers. I smiled. She was so innocent in some ways, so naive about her love of life with a childlike belief that good will always win in the end. As much as I was getting to know her, I was still very curious to see what she really looked like inside. Was she made differently from me or, as I sometimes suspected and despite outward appearances, was she in fact quite similar?

My desire to know her better wasn’t for murderous reasons. I wanted to get inside her head because I thought we might have similarities. There was a part of me that really wanted to be like her. She seemed straightforward, but had hidden depths that I was sure that others could not see. I had told her and she blushed, flattered and happy. . .but still unable to see what I could see.

I knew that at some point I would have to let go of her and break up the friendship. Being close to someone could only generate risk because sooner or later they would probably suspect who I was.

Part of me wanted to show Lotte genuine Marie, but the other part of me just wanted to let the friendship live in perfect ignorance, for if she properly understood me she would withdraw and perhaps even betray me.

Maybe we could go on vacation together, not exactly man hunting, but maybe I could show her a little truth about me. I flirted with the idea and consoled myself with the fact that if she could not handle it, I could just kill her. Then, surprisingly, I felt a tightness in my chest at the thought of killing g Lotte. Then I decided that it was probably just too much coffee.

13

She met him at a dinner date. This was not just a normal dinner date, but a friend from work had dragged her along to an event the friend described as ‘speed dating with food’. Lotte was one of eight people who would eat a couple of small dishes together and then the four men were replaced by new ones, moving around the room whilst the women stayed where they were; ready to share another two dishes and some supposedly stimulating conversation.

It seemed like the first group of four were a disaster and she desperately wanted to run off with the excuse that she had a headache. Fortunately, there was also one of the other girls, who clearly found their soon-to-be erstwhile companions to be equally boring and they had sent each other pitying looks across the table. The two that had sat on either side of Lotte were judged to be particularly nauseating. One was a guy of about forty-five who could not sit right up to the table because of his huge stomach. He lisped slightly and was clearly nervous and uncertain. He didn’t have a lot to work with, Lotte had thought, but he had clearly not done anything with what he did have.

It was probably because he didn’t have a clue how to behave; there aren’t many ‘style classes’ for men. Most would say that this is because it’s not needed, thought Lotte as she sipped her wine and stared at a spot on the wall. Men are either completely sure that they are God’s gift to women or totally oblivious to the fact that it’s possible to do something about it. Perhaps they are too ashamed to go to a place and meet other losers mused Lotte; these guys clearly didn’t know how to make an effort.

After the girl opposite had raised her eyebrows in Lotte’s direction following another inane comment by a man next to her with what was clearly a wig, Lotte decided she didn’t care because she was never going to see these men again, thank God. The fat man apologized all the time when his elbow touched hers; which because of his stomach was often. His cheeks looked like a hamster’s and she could see the food being pushed around in there, as if to send it around in your mouth helped digestion. From The Ruminant to The Hamster; what I have I done to deserve this?

His eyes were small and forever blinking and she even imagined how he would be in bed. Shaking, insecure, panting and perhaps even trying to withhold his excitement. He’d be apologetic and constantly wary of her every move. When he entered her, if his prick was big enough to get past his stomach, he would look as if he felt that he did not deserve it and his eyes would be closed and he’d rush just to get it over with. That was probably good because no woman should have to endure him, a fat hamster, fucking you longer than necessary.

Perhaps she was being wildly unfair and maybe he was a tantric sex guru and just did not know how to show it. Perhaps she should ask? Just ask everyone at the table if they’d had any experience with tantric sex. Lotte almost blushed at the thought and pushed it to one side. What would they think of her if she brought such a topic to the table? Now they were talking about the resale value of different brands; so fucking boring.

Seemingly lost in a world of her own, it took Lotte a few seconds to realize that the guy on the other side of her was asking a question; a little embarrassed, she had to ask him to repeat it.

“I asked what car such a beautiful and charming woman like you would drive. It’s probably a little convertible!”

Lotte was completely caught off guard. It was rare that someone looked at her in that way and called her beautiful and certainly not charming. The guy had spoken quite loudly and everyone looked at her; she felt even more embarrassed. She told herself to take her time in replying and when she did she was quite pleased with her riposte.

“I have no money you can borrow, but thanks for the flattery,” she said. He laughed loudly and mood around the table relaxed again.

“And I have no car,” added Lotte, “I take the subway because I live in the inner city.”

The guy was still laughing and she was not sure he had heard her explanation.

“Not only is she beautiful and charming, she also has a great sense of humour! With that sharp a tongue I will keep my mouth shut from now on!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound hostile,” said Lotte, now feeling a little contrite. “I’m just not used to excessive flattery,” she admitted.

“It really wasn’t exaggerated,” he said with a grin, “but it’s pleasing that you have humility and that you do not dwell on your own beauty.”

Compliments just poured out of his mouth; it was almost too much. Lotte blushed and looked down at the table without being able to respond. He was a strange looking man, not outright ugly but he was nothing special to look at. He was not very tall and a little scrawny, almost a boy’s body but with a man’s head. His hair was very thick and so dark that it was close to black. He had rolled his shirt sleeves up during the evening and Lotte now noticed he had really nice arms. A little thin, but well-toned as if he worked out regularly. That was the one good thing about him, Lotte thought. Well two if she counted his words. Then she decided she liked his eyes too. They were blue and quite neutral, but he had a look that that was both mischievous and friendly.

“What do you do?” he asked as the others around the table returned to their own conversations, leaving Lotte and the guy to talk to each other properly.

“Oh I just work in an office. It’s quite boring really, but it’s a good job with some nice people.”

“It can’t be boring all the time if you have good colleagues you can laugh with. Surely a woman with your sense of humor would make things more fun at work … or are you holding something back?”

For a moment Lotte felt angry with him. How did he dare sit there and say that she was holding something back! But then she realized that she had not actually said that much all night, so perhaps he was right to think like that. She replied that she did not know and that it would be up to her colleagues to assess.

He raised his glass and proposed, a little pompously, to the table that they drank a toast to not holding back.

“Life’s too short for such restraint!” he said as the others half-heartedly raised their glasses and mumbled something that might or might not have been to do with not holding back. The girl opposite Lotte gave her a look that was filled with pity; it was clear that she thought the guy was a complete jerk.

The next dish arrived and they all ate in silence for a few minutes, but Lotte could sense that the guy next to her was looking at her even more. He tried several times to catch her eye and give her a smile. She was alternately embarrassed by all the attention and flattered by it. He actually had a nice smile, she decided. As if he would just take her hand, it would make her feel happier.

It turned out that his name was Lars and he was forty-three; he worked as an IT engineer in an international company. He had no children and when they touched upon the subject, he said that he really had no burning desire to have children, but if he met the right woman and she was dying to have children, maybe he could be persuaded. Lotte caught herself considering whether she would want to have children with him or if she might be too old or indolent. Then she laughed a little at herself. There must have been something about him that interested her since she sat there and thought about having children with him; she’d known him for a little less an hour.

They talked about hobbies and found out that they both liked theater. Lars said that he had two tickets to the Royal and no one to accompany him; would she like to go? Lars seemed to feel that he needed to quantify what he’d suggested and said that it did not have to be a date, only two theater lovers sharing their interest. He asked her to think about it, but not for long, for he was sure he would be replaced with another man as they were getting close to the next course and he would be moving on around the restaurant.

“But I seriously doubt that the evening can get any better now. It’s been so nice talking to you, Lotte.”

Lotte blushed and admitted that she’d had a good time as well. He gave her his card and asked her to call him when she had thought about the offer of the ticket. She simply nodded. As he stood to leave the table he whispered in her ear that she at least had to give him a theatrical evening even if it never went any further. She blushed again and smiled at him and then he was gone.

The next two who sat on either side of her tried very hard to bring her into various conversations, but no matter what they said they were fobbed off with an almost terse response. The problem was that Lotte’s mood had darkened because she was annoyed, mostly with herself, that she had not just said yes when Lars offered her the theater ticket. As well as thinking the guy was kind of okay she would have liked to have gone; now it would feel totally inappropriate and embarrassing to call a stranger and ask to be taken to the theater.

For days her thoughts circled around the small white card that Lars had given her. She had it in her bag to work every day and promised herself each day that she would call, but she just hadn’t done it. Her colleague who sat at the desk opposite Lotte noticed that something was wrong and got Lotte to admit that she had met an interesting man at a dinner. On her way back from getting coffee one afternoon, the colleague saw Lotte looking at the card yet again and snatched it from her hand and teased Lotte that she should call him and ask him to pick her up from work.

Lotte laughed, but was still feeling a bit intimidated by the thought of calling him. The colleague held firmly onto the card and Lotte had almost become angry before she got the card back. This was only with the promise that she would actually call him before the day was over. An hour or so later her colleague went for a meeting and when she was out the door, Lotte pulled the card out of her bag again, took a deep breath and called him from her own cell phone. Immediately though she lost her courage when she heard it started ringing at the other end and hung up. Now she thought that she could say to her colleague that she had tried, but there was no answer.

Her phone rang. Lotte flinched and looked completely terrified when she saw that the number calling her was his. She counted to ten, breathed and answered.

“This is Lotte,” she said with a timid voice.

“Hey, it’s Lars. I’m sorry that I didn’t manage to answer your call. I know people hate talking to an answering machine. Thanks again for your company over dinner. So how are you?”

“Oh … err … I’m well, thank you,” she mumbled and managed to remember something about good manners. “Yes, thank you too. How are you?”

Lars ignored the question:

“Now that I’ve heard from you, I feel much better. I was almost about to give up.”

“I’ve been busy,” she hastened to say to apologize.

“Oh never mind beautiful, we’re talking again now. So would you like to come to the theater?”

“Yes, if it’s a day where I can ...”

“Oh, she’s such a busy lady,” interrupted Lars with a laugh. “Could you possibly fit it in on Friday of next week?”

“Oh sorry, I can’t make that. I have a bachelorette party for a friend from work. You’ll just have to find someone else.”

Lotte was surprised how disappointed she felt and wished she could tell her friend she was sick.

“Well, why don’t I see if I can get them swapped at the box office? How about the Saturday? Is that better? “

“Oh yes, that would be fine actually. Thank you.”

“Well I’ll try and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Is it okay if I call tonight? Right now I have a server problem that’s making me crazy!”

“Yes, that’s okay; thanks” replied Lotte and surprised herself by how buoyed she felt with the idea of the upcoming date.

“Good, then we’ll talk later. I’m sure I’ll be able to sort the tickets out and I’m already looking forward to it.”

They hung up and the rest of the day Lotte got as much work done as she usually did on holidays. She sat and looked out the window or stared at her computer screen while she dreamed of her theater evening with Lars. She had to wear the right clothes, so she would look nice but not as if she had tried too hard and was too keen. High heels were not an option; they were too dressy and she guessed she might end up being taller than him. And what if she didn’t like the play? Would she dare tell him or should she just pretend?

So many questions that were about making a good impression or not, filled her head, but not just that day; it was every day until Saturday arrived. She hardly slept at night and decided she was acting like a love-lost teenager again. On the day the theater finally came around she called Marie after breakfast and told her about the past week; she needed distraction that day or it would pass far too slowly.

Marie immediately took action and after they met for coffee took Lotte off for a massage in a beautiful health club. The massage caused her to fall asleep and when she woke up, they had let her sleep for a half hour. She was embarrassed and felt bad because she had wasted Marie’s generous gift, but Marie would not hear of her guilty conscience. It was exactly what the point of the massage was - to get her to relax and get her to sleep so she could be fresh. A long and leisurely lunch followed that and then Lotte was led to a beautician who took control of her face with masks, scrubs and creams and ended the treatment by putting on, what Lotte thought, was too much make-up. Marie said that when it was evening, make-up could not be seen so clearly; especially in a theater. When Marie also wanted her to go to the hairdresser, but Lotte put her foot down.

“I will probably look totally completely different from what I normally am! It’s no good that the man will regret for the rest of his life that he kissed me because he thought I looked like a million dollars tonight and then I look like a frumpy housewife for the rest of our time together!”

“It’s nice to hear that you are ready to be kissed again,” smiled Marie as she sat beside Lotte and they both studied her changed reflection in the beautician’s mirror.

Lotte blushed since she obviously hadn’t succeeded in appearing disinterested and cool. She had never actually been good at it and felt she was always flustered and went about things like a bull in a china shop.