Hanne was back at the window In truth she had been there most of the afternoon. As the sun drifted into late afternoon and on into evening, and as Hanne’s cup of tea was now clay cold,
The activity in the square was winding down. Joe had been back at his ‘office’ for about an hour, his liquid lunch over. The expensive looking car had pulled up close to Joe’s pitch and now Kirsten Kjaer was standing talking to her…
"...Husband, I guess “. Hanne murmured with the binoculars fixed to her eyes.
Hanne thought about the Kjaer-Spivey family. Kirsten was tall and beautiful, she clearly had expensive tastes. With her exotic Oriental looks, those wonderful brown eyes, her sensual figure.
Hanne figured that Kirsten could have had her choice in men. So why did she pick Joe Spivey of all people ?
Gold-digger? Possibly. But Gold-diggers are usually the last people to settle down and start a family with their procured ‘sugar-daddy’.
Usually even the fattest wallet became boring after a long while. Just take as much as you can then move on.
But the child? Hanne figured the kid must be three years old. And the way Kirsten talked, laughed and occasionally held or touched Joe gently on the face or arm. There was clearly a lot of affection in her demeanour.
As for Joe. Hanne could tell Joe returned her affection, albeit in a ‘Joe ‘ kind of way. He was not the most demonstrative king of guy when it came to showing his emotions. But Hanne could see them, right there.
It takes the most skilled of people-watcher to see them, but the fleeting signs were certainly there. Joe Spivey loved his ‘wife’. And for sure, Hanne could tell Joe would safeguard his daughter with all means at his disposal, like a loyal Mastiff.
She somehow go the feeling that Joe had found, or been given something more dear to him than his disgustingly huge fortune.
Hanne took the glasses from her eyes as sighed “ My God Joe, You are full of surprises”.
Hanne took an absent minded sip of tea and winced at how cold it had become. She figured she must have been watching out of the window for far longer than she realised.
She brought the glasses back to her eyes and changed her focus and attention to Silja, who was crossing the plaza, pushing the stroller with one hand and holding on to the child’s hand with the other.
They were heading towards Anneka’s parents. Anneka strained ahead impatiently but Silja held on to her, they were both giggling.
Hanne found herself smiling behind the binoculars. It seemed her incendiary brat of a step-sister had actually found her niche, her vocation even? Hanne even felt a twinge of pride. But only a twinge.
“I’m really going to have to call Poppa… “ Hanne felt a pang of guilt she had not yet taken time to call their father even though she had been back in New Flagstaff for four days now.
But there in the afternoon sun was her sister. The secret that couldn’t be let out. Not even Dwight, her faithful right hand man, knew the truth about the relationship Hanne had with the dreadlocked ex-teenage tearaway below.
Hanne knew if that fact became common currency, every low-life and con artist who ever came under the spotlight of The Ranyhyn Company would want to use Silja as a means of getting back at Miss Hanne Berg.
That is to say, those low-life con artist that had actually survived coming under the said spotlight of The Ranyhyn Company.
Hanne finally turned away from the window and her thoughts on the intricacies of family connections. Both of her own, and those of Joe Spivey
“ Wheels within wheels.” She breathed just as Dwight Frye came into the office. She watched his shape through the obscured glass partition as he hung up his jacket and hat then spent a few minutes digging some items out of one of his beloved filing cabinets.
Finally the polite tap on the door, and Dwight entered carrying a number of paper stuffed manilla files under his right arm.
“Good trip?” Hanne asked Dwight politely as he took his seat in the chair on the opposite side of Hanne’s desk.
As Dwight replied to her question, Hanne could see in his eyes that Dwight had clearly had some need sated.
And she knew how. Dwight was a living paradox. On most days he was a seemingly harmless yet unswervingly polite grey suited office administrator. But on other, thankfully far fewer days, he was a menacing sadistic psychopath.
...Perfect for the job.
Dwight answered her question, earnestly smiling over the rims of his spectacles.