Isabella Jung was sitting on her bed in her room, still wearing her coat, feeling her heart beat faster under her jumper. Someone had slipped another note under her door. Same writing as before.
Please would you meet me? In secret.
Just you and me?
She was back from visiting her dad in his new council flat in Fredrikstad. It was a long time since she had last seen him, and she had been excited about going, but their time together had not turned out the way she had hoped. He had not said very much. She had almost got the impression that she was in the way. It was nice to be back at the Nurseries.
Isabella smiled and trailed her finger slowly across the white paper.
Please would you meet me?
Of course she would.
She had guessed that it was from him when she got the first note. The one that had been pinned to her door. It must be Paulus. She had seen it in his eyes the first time he showed her the orchids. And she could not remember if she had looked at him the same way but, later, whenever she had the chance, she had made sure to do so.
She understood that it had to be a secret. She had yet to turn sixteen, that was the reason. She was too young. A minor. Illicit love – only that made it more tantalizing.
Isabella Jung was only fifteen years old, but she felt she had been a grown-up ever since she was little. She did not give a toss about age. What was age, anyway? It was just a number. But she understood him, of course she did. He was over twenty. He would lose his job; he might even go to prison, for all she knew. So she had kept it a secret. Just as he had. They had never touched. Not even hugged. Only exchanged looks. Him looking at her and her looking back at him.
But then, finally, the note:
I like you.
And now this other one:
Please would you meet me? In secret.
Just you and me?
Isabella cherished the words, but she was confused. She had barely returned to the Nurseries before the rumours had reached her. The police had taken away Paulus and Benedikte Riis. They had had a row outside, the police had handcuffed them, and no one had heard from them since. A worried Isabella had gone to see Helene, but she had been turned away at the door.
‘I’m a bit busy right now, please come back later.’
‘But I just—?’
‘Later, Isabella, OK?’
It was obviously to do with Camilla Green – all the girls agreed on that – but no one knew what was really going on. Some said they had heard Benedikte accuse Paulus of killing Camilla. All lies, of course. Everyone knew what Benedikte Riis was like. A liar. She would say anything to get attention. Of course Paulus had not done anything.
There was a sudden knock on her door, and Cecilie popped her head round.
‘Are you asleep?’ the skinny girl whispered.
‘No, no, come in.’ Isabella smiled and quickly stuffed the note under her pillow.
‘Have you heard any more?’ Cecilie asked, sitting down on the bed next to her.
‘No, nothing, I’ve only just got back. You?’
‘People are saying all sorts of things,’ Cecilie said miserably, and now Isabella could see that her friend had been crying.
‘Don’t listen to them,’ Isabella said, putting her arms around the trembling girl.
‘Some say Benedikte murdered Camilla,’ Cecilie said. ‘Others that Paulus did it. Oh my God, what if it’s true?’
Isabella sympathized; nothing felt safe now. She could feel it, too. The reporters. The police. The serenity and security out here had been destroyed.
‘It’s obviously not true.’ Isabella smiled.
‘You don’t think so?’ Cecilie mumbled, looking at her with her trusting eyes.
They were the same age, but sometimes Isabella felt like Cecilie was only little. Cecilie had had a bad start. Bad people. Wicked people. Isabella had heard the gruesome details, but she could not bear to think about them now. Instead, she tried to think happy thoughts.
Please would you meet me? In secret.
Of course she would meet Paulus. She knew about that place of his. His secret place. The hideout on the far side of the estate. She also knew about his plants, but she had not told anyone.
‘Paulus hasn’t killed anyone,’ Isabella asserted.
‘What about Benedikte?’
‘Definitely not. She’s horrible, but she’s also as thick as two short planks. She couldn’t have pulled it off, even if she had wanted to, could she?’
Isabella saw that Cecilie was starting to smile now.
‘She is, isn’t she? As thick as two short planks?’
‘Yes.’ Isabella smiled again.
‘Do you remember when we visited the Natural History Museum and she asked why they didn’t have any monkeys?’
Isabella giggled.
‘And why all the animals were standing so still?’
Cecilie was grinning now.
‘She thought we were at the zoo.’ Isabella howled with laughter.
Cecilie joined in. ‘How stupid can you get?’
‘Really stupid.’
‘I hate bad people,’ Cecilie said suddenly, and curled up to Isabella again.
‘I’ll look after you. You don’t have to be scared,’ Isabella said, stroking the girl’s hair again.
Suddenly the door was opened and a breathless Synne appeared.
‘They’re back.’
‘Who?’
‘Paulus and Benedikte. They’re back. They’ve just arrived. In a police car. They went straight to Helene’s office.’
He was back.
Isabella’s heart skipped a beat.
Please would you meet me? In secret.
Just you and me?
She smiled.
Of course I will.