Woman Last Seen(62)
It makes him sick.
Alfonso looks up at Daan with a quick hopefulness. He’d like to chat.
Daan wonders, is Alfonso married? Does he have children? Grandchildren? Is he divorced? Lonely. Is that why he keeps such odd and long hours? Does he like being here in this building more than he likes being at home? Daan is surprised these questions have occurred to him now. He has known Alfonso for years, cheerfully greeted him morning and evening, discussing the weather, a parcel, the delivery of appliances. Alfonso is a fixture in Daan’s life and yet he has never felt curious about him until this moment. Daan doesn’t get too involved in people’s private lives. As he was brought up with staff, he knows the dangers of becoming overly familiar with them and blurring the lines; it is tricky to pull back when necessary. And at some point, it is always necessary. Of course, he is friendly, polite. He tips well at Christmas, most likely the best tipper in the entire building by some way. He wants Alfonso to look out for him, take care when receiving deliveries, making hotel bookings, monitoring the external security cameras, but he doesn’t want Alfonso to be his friend. His home has to be a sanctuary; he doesn’t need those boundaries flexing. He doesn’t need Alfonso popping up to his floor just to make conversation. He doesn’t need his inquisitiveness, keenness, nosiness.
“Haven’t seen much of Mrs. Janssen this week,” says Alfonso.
“No,” says Daan, revealing nothing.
“Everything all right?” Alfonso’s gaze slips down the length of Daan’s body. Does he notice the dirty tracksuit? Are there telltale dark patches of sweat on his T-shirt? Daan thinks he can feel sweat on his top lip, his hair is greasy, his eyes are probably bloodshot, he can’t remember when he was last entirely sober. Daan thinks Alfonso’s question is impertinent, or his gaze. Both. His face turns icy to allow Alfonso to know this is what he is thinking and therefore to close him down, swiftly. Alfonso does clock Daan’s irritation and colors slightly. “Oh, sorry, don’t mean to pry. It’s just with the police being here, I started worrying about her. She’s such a nice lady, your wife. Always asks about mine.”
Daan doesn’t want Alfonso to be his friend, but nor does he want him to be an enemy either. Typical that Kai knew Alfonso was married, that she took an interest. She always did appear to be interested in everything and everyone. Bitch.
Daan doesn’t want to answer the question and he learned long ago that you don’t always have to, so instead he comments, “I’m just getting a bit of exercise, taking the stairs rather than the lift. Trying to hit twenty thousand steps a day.”
Alfonso whistles. “Twenty thousand? I’m lucky if I hit five thousand. Very sedentary job, mine.”
“Yes, mine too, but I try.”
“You wouldn’t find it easier just working out in the gym?” Alfonso asks.
Daan tries not to look startled at being challenged. “Of course—that’s where I’ve just come from.” It would at least explain why he is sweating, breathless.
“Oh, I must have missed you. Normally I notice who is working out or swimming.” Alfonso meets Daan’s gaze. “You know, the cameras.”
Daan has forgotten about the internal security cameras. Casting his mind back now he remembers at one residents’ committee meeting an argument between residents as to whether internal cameras were an important security measure or an invasion of privacy. There were enough residents with nefarious goings-on who didn’t want their every move monitored. They’d take the risk of dealing with burglars. Daan hadn’t got involved in the argument, he didn’t much care. He vaguely recalls that the compromise reached was that cameras were installed in the gym and pool but not in the corridors. The argument being something about health and safety in communal areas. He hadn’t understood the reasoning at the time, thought perhaps Alfonso was the only one to benefit because he could ogle the fitties as they exercised. Daan is glad now that there aren’t any cameras in the corridors.
“I didn’t stay long today. Got there and realized I just didn’t have the energy to work out. Just turned straight back around at the door.” Daan flashes Alfonso a big smile. Then he remembers that the best form of defense is attack and asks, “So why are you skulking around the back stairs, after hours, Alfonso? Anything I need to be concerned about?”
It was bolshie, rude, but it does the job. Alfonso looks defensive. “I’m not skulking, just checking about. Doing my job. Seeing everything is okay before I clock off for the weekend.” He is self-justifying, which makes a person appear shifty. “One of the residents said she’s heard things.”
“What sort of things?”
“Well, she wasn’t sure. Some shouting or crying, she said. It might have just been someone’s TV.”
Daan and Alfonso meet one another’s eyes and neither likes what they see. “What do you make of this pandemic business?” Daan asks.
“I don’t know what to make of it.”
“My guess is we will all be locked down next week.”
“You think?”
“Most likely. You’ll probably be better staying at home. I’ll send out an email to the residents, if you like, confirming that.”
“Well, we’ll see, shall we?” counters Alfonso. “No need to action anything yet. I’ll come in if I can.”