January 04, 2005
Hendrik
Hendrik Everson is a bitter man; has been for twenty years. It's the sort of bitterness that grows richer and deeper and more nuanced with the passing of time, and he cannot imagine life without it now, does not want to imagine. He hugs it close and nurtures it, cherishes it like a lover. It is his oldest -- perhaps his only -- remaining friend.Hendrik is a bitter man, and just now he is a very frightened one, but he is not stupid. He can see at least the outlines of the trap that has been laid for him, and he is not about to spring it. It is a fearsome trap, though. Deep in his bitter, malevolent heart there is a little germ of admiration for whoever set him up this way. If he survives, he will have to kill them, and will do it without hesitation; but, if the opportunity arises, he will congratulate them first.
"How long have we known each other, Hendrik?"
"A long time, Mama."
"A very long time. Quarter of a century, give or take."
"Yes."
"In all that time, have I ever taken you for a fool?"
Hendrik shakes his head. In his heart he knows that, yes, Mama has taken him for a fool on countless occasions, and rightly so. He allowed himself to be so taken, and his position now reflects that. Everything was so different when first they met: he with all the power, haughty and arrogant and perhaps a little infatuated; she, not "Mama" than, just bright and ambitious Christine Cornelius, full of promise, eager to please. He knew from the first that she was something special, and watched her progress with pride. He knew from the first that she would surprise him. And she did.
"No, Mama."
"Too fucking right. You're no fool, Hendrik. Oh, you have your limits. Believe me, I am aware of them all. I admit, I've used them when it suited me. I've used you. But you are no fool."
Hendrik feels his options closing down, one by one. He still thinks he can escape this trap, but the cost will be terriible.
"What, then, am I supposed to make of all this? If not stupidity, then what?"
"I don't know, Mama. There is something else at work, something I can't explain."
"That there is, Hendrik. Perhaps you can't explain it. But please, as a favour to me..." -- the glint in her eye now would shatter glass -- "...try."
"Someone has betrayed us."
"Yes. Someone has."
"Surely you can't believe it was me?"
"Oh, but I know it was."
Mama opens her desk drawer, looks into it for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. She is almost smiling as she reaches in and pulls out a chased-silver cufflink. She holds it up to the light, so that Hendrik can be in no doubt. Then she places it on the desk in front of him. In that moment, he knows all is lost.
"No! After all we have been through..."
"What I don't understand, Hendrik, is why? What could you possibly think you had to gain?"
"Mama, no! It wasn't me! I have never betrayed you!"
"Never?"
He can't hold her gaze. Of course he has betrayed her, many times. Not like this -- not in ways that could be so catastrophic -- but in so many others. All those petty treacheries rise up within him and pronounce his guilt. For the first time he can remember, Hendrik Everson feels his age.
Mama presses the intercom button.
"Sonia? Are the Down Street boys still waiting?"
"Yes, Mama."
