‘Why do you say that?’ Ore kept her tone light, but her question seemed to dampen the mood. The laughter dried up.Chuck looked at Frederik, with an expression that was hard to read. Frederik took another swig and Ousman topped up his glass of sparkling water.
‘He’s only kidding, Ore,’ Chuck said after a moment, ‘but don’t be long. We’ll be eating in about twenty minutes.’
Ore was no idiot, and she was a woman. Which meant that she understood that Claude was someone to be careful around. A lot of men were, and she resented that they assumed she was oblivious to his hungry gaze and wandering hands. Still, she needed, at the very least, a surname from him, if she had any hope of getting to the bottom of whatever it was that Chuck was mixed up in here.
‘Not about to miss whatever feast Carlos is cooking up – don’t worry,’ she said breezily, dusting away the sand on her clothes.
Claude was sitting further away than it looked. The expanse of beach and clear visibility were deceptive. When she finally got to him, he looked up suddenly, although he must have seen her coming for a while.
‘Ore, you have come to steal a cigarette?’ He held a pack open for her to help herself. She was in the habit of smoking exclusively after midnight, usually when she was wasted. Today though, under the blinding sunlight, she thought it best to just accept his offer.
‘Thank you.’ She took a cigarette and sat down beside him. When he produced a lighter, it was clear that she was to lean in and light straight from the flame. She was keenly aware of how close his face was to hers and suddenly she wished she’d taken greater heed of Frederik’s warning.
She inhaled, leaning back, and then blew the acrid smokeinto the air between them. ‘I um, I wanted to have a chat with you today actually.’ It came out sounding less assertive and more apologetic than she’d intended.
‘A chat? Is that what the English say when they mean interview?’
She laughed, if only for something to do. ‘I suppose so. Is that a problem?’
He turned to her, and she felt like he was testing her nerve with his silent stare.
Finally he shrugged. ‘Go ahead.’
In that moment Ore’s mind went blank. In the commotion of her seasickness she’d left her precious notepad on the tender. She took another drag of the cigarette to kill time and then it came to her: start simple.
‘How do you know Chuck?’
At an painfully leisurely pace, Claude nodded and took out another cigarette, lighting it and inhaling slowly.
‘Chuck and I, we were school friends,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘Where did you go to school?’ Ore’s heart was beating a little faster. If she could get him to confirm the boarding school, then she would at least know that Chuck was definitely withholding, if not outright lying, about his childhood.
‘In my hometown.’ She was by no means surprised that Claude was not forthcoming, but it was still frustrating.
‘Where is that?’ She tried not to let the irritation seep into her voice; she suspected he’d only relish it.
‘Geraardsbergen.’
‘Is that in Belgium?’ Ore wanted to be sure.
Claude rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, I thought it was anAmerican thing to be bad at geography; maybe it has spread now to the rest of the anglosphere.’
He wanted her to drop it; she could sense it. Maybe he thought that she would be shamed into retreat if he insulted her intelligence. But he had only given himself away: she was onto something.
‘How old were you at the time?’
Claude shifted in the sand. ‘I’m not sure, maybe like six or seven. How can I remember that?’ His tone was as steady and monotone as ever, but she swore she could detect him getting just a little flustered.
‘No problem, I don’t need you to be exact.’
‘So you are the sort of journalist who does not deal with exact facts.’ Another dig, before he took a long drag. Ore said nothing. ‘Have you any other questions? We should be going back for food now.’
Time was running out. It seemed she was doomed to collect only tiny fragments from everyone. She would have to do the piecing together in her own time.
‘Does “klauparten” mean anything to you?’ The moment she said the word, she knew she’d hit a nerve. Claude’s head snapped around, catching her in another one of his iron stares.
‘Where did you hear that word?’ His eyes turned somehow icier. Ore felt a flash of fear. There was a menace there that she hadn’t seen before.
