When they finally pulled apart, Joost fell back against the armrest. Elke blinked down at him, surprised at herself and feeling the embarrassment creep up her neck. Joost laid, almost entranced, staring up at her with puffy lips and sparkling eyes.
'Shit,' Elke cursed, pulling her hands from his shoulders to cup her hot face. 'That was unexpected.'
'It was, but I liked it,' Joost flashed a grin, letting it retract into a lingering smile. 'I like you, Elke. I like you, a lot.'
Elke let her hands fall from her face to land on Joost's bare stomach. The varying blonde hairs covering his chest and leading down beneath his underwear's band let her see the Pokemon tattoo on his ribs. She wondered how she made it to this position, sitting on her neighbour's lap with a raging heart and blushing cheeks. The crazy shift of her life had brought her some strange things, but with Joost's large hands on her waist, Elke meant it when she said,
'I like you, too, Joost.'
—-
When the police knocked on her door, Elke was with Arabella.
It was expected that she would be questioned following Roan's passing. Being the ex-girlfriend who saw his decline first hand, Elke knew it was only a matter of time before someone came knocking. She was just relieved that it was a woman and a man in uniform and not another nameless trespasser.
'And what was your last interaction like?' the female police officer asked.
'Not great. He kept wanting to talk to me about something, but I was fed up at that point. He'd turned up at my work and then at my apartment. I was... a little scared about how much Roan had changed.'
Elke appreciated Arabella's hand in hers. They sat on Elke's sofa while one officer stood and the other sat on one of her kitchen stools. Their questions weren't invasive and they took great sympathy in talking about Elke's deceased ex-boyfriend. There was nothing that should have put Elke on edge, but without Joost, the girl was riddled with nerves.
'The excessive drug-use would have contributed to that. Was he ever abusive towards you?' the male officer questioned and Elke used her tissue to wipe at her nose.
'No, nothing like that. He just... changed from being uninterested to then being sporadic and unpredictable. I didn't like being around him.'
'And Roan never mentioned anything about his friends? You said he was always surrounded by them.'
'No? Have you spoken to any of them?'
'Not yet. We've not had any luck with answers from any of them.'
Elke found that strange but focused on controlling her tears. While still grieving about Roan's passing, there was the subject that she wanted unsaid. She didn't know what Joost had done with the bag of money. When he said he would handle it, Elke was relieved to see it gone from her apartment and her car's boot. The last thing she wanted to do was put Joost in the thick of it.
Arabella thought the tight grip of her friend's hand was from grief. She rubbed Elke's back, her face contorted with a grimace at the recollection. She never liked Roan but turning up dead in a skip was far from what Arabella wanted for the man. She couldn't imagine what Elke was going through.
'Is there anything you could think of that you think we should know? Anything Roan might have done or mentioned?' the woman officer asked and Elke almost took it as pleading. It was obvious that the police didn't have much information and were relying on one of their only cooperative leads.
Elke wanted to mention the money. It felt like the right thing to do. It would take off the weight that touched her and Joost's shoulders. The police were the ones that dealt with these investigations. Why should she continue to live with what happened?
But then she thought about the men who broke into her apartment. They knew where she lived, they knew she had the money, Roan knew what he was doing by hiding it under her bed. What would happen to her if she told them about it all? What would happen to Joost for saying he would take care of it? Would they be arrested? Or worse, would the men come looking for her again?
Elke clenched her teeth, disguising her hesitation by wiping at her wet eyes.
'No... not that I can think of.'
The officers thanked her for her time, their disappointment evident in their strained smiles. Arabella hung back as Elke showed them to the door. The black-haired girl waited for her sniffling friend to shuffle back into the living space where she took hold of her arms.
'You did really well. Did you want to go out? We can get pizza or something?'
'I'd like that...'
After grabbing their handbags, Arabella hooked her arm with Elke's and the two left the apartment. It was a good way to clear the heavy air that the officers left behind. Even though Elke hated knowing her eyes were red, she wanted to be anywhere but inside.
Joost wasn't home and Elke knew this from a text. He had said he would be working until the late evening. Elke appreciated his thought since she might have knocked on his door after cringing at sleeping alone.
She had spent almost every second night in Joost's bed, the Stitch plushie taking her place when she had the courage to stay home. Her comment of putting the blue plushie on the floor had been taken seriously, so as a place holder, Stitch waited for Elke's frequent visits.
She wished Joost had been home when the police knocked. That way, Elke would known whether Joost wanted to tell the police about the money. Palming off the questions to Joost would be easy and Elke might have finally been freed from the crippling dread. But she had done well on her own and she hoped that the money would soon be a distant memory.
Arabella and Elke walked through Amsterdam. The Friday night was warming from the cold days. While walking through the city streets, businessmen walked in groups laughing. Party goers hooted and some families were heading home after early dinners.
'I'm glad that you got out when you did, El. Sounds like Roan really got himself in the shit,' Arabella said, bumping her arm against Elke's.
'Yeah...'
What could she say? Arabella was trustworthy, they had known each other for years, but telling her about the money? The break-in? Elke didn't know anymore. Never had she had to keep something so serious a secret.
'And none of his friends have asked you if you're okay?' Arabella asked.
'One of them tried to call me but I never got back to him. I think it was Fabian.'
'Oh, yeah, he was one of the nicer ones. I think he gave me a mint once.'
Elke hummed. Talking about Roan and his friends was strange knowing he was gone. She had gotten over the initial shock. What was left was the nerves of feeling like Elke should be seeking help from those who were trained to provide it.
The police were assuming that Roan had gotten involved in something sinister and Elke had to bite her tongue. She had come to the same conclusion long before Roan's body was found. The only relief she found was when she was in Joost's apartment, where they never mentioned the backpack or what he did with it.
The pizza place wasn't a fancy restaurant or even a diner. It was a small shop in-between larger shops with one man behind the counter who rudely threw slices to paying customers. No one complained because it was good food, quick service and cheap prices. Arabella and Elke didn't expect anything different and sat on the curb of the street eating their greasy slices.
Elke caught sight of Arabella's tomato-covered hands and pushed herself up get more napkins. Her bag sat open under her arm as she crossed the pathway, dodged loud young people and made it to the table of condiments. Elke went to turn back, her hands loaded with thin, cheap serviettes, until she caught sight of a familiar face.
She didn't know why she called out to him. Maybe it was the police visit or Arabella's mention of not hearing from any of Roan's friends. Whatever it was, Elke stood with the napkins as the man walked past her and said,
'Nathan?'

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Ineffable ? Joost Klein ?
ActionIneffable (adjective) too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words// #1 in joostklein 27.09.2024 #1 in thenetherlands 10.10.2024 #2 in drive 15.10.2024 --- Note that everything in this story is fictional. Any event that is similar to a...