The Dinosaur Feather

‘That’s right. We had a departmental meeting, and—’
    ‘You held a departmental meeting without me?’ Clive interrupted him and lowered his menu.
    ‘Yes, because you didn’t show up. We decided you probably weren’t feeling well enough yet. We actually didn’t start until seven thirty – in case you were late.’
    Clive said nothing. He had no recollection of there being a departmental meeting that night. He always attended such meetings. Irritated, he raised his menu.
    ‘I don’t know about you,’ he said. ‘But I’m having the lobster.’

CHAPTER 9
     
    Anna’s mobile rang while she was shopping in the Netto supermarket on Jagtvejen. She didn’t recognise the number.
    ‘Yes,’ she said, absent-mindedly.
    ‘Anna Bella,’ a hesitant voice began.
    ‘Yes, that’s me. Who is it?’
    ‘Birgit Helland.’
    Anna froze.
    ‘Is this a good time?’ Mrs Helland asked.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Anna lied, trying desperately to think of something appropriate to say when you unexpectedly find yourself talking to the widow of a man you couldn’t stand.
    ‘My condolences,’ she said, sounding like an idiot, and quickly added: ‘It must be very hard for you.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Mrs Helland said quietly. ‘I have something for you,’ she continued. ‘From Lars. I thought that perhaps you might like to visit to collect it. I would like to meet you. Lars often spoke about you.’ Birgit Helland’s voice was subdued but determined, as though she had rehearsed her lines. Anna had no idea how to respond.
    ‘For me? Er, yes, of course. Do you want me to come over now or later?’
    ‘Now would be good. If you can. The funeral is on Saturday and on Sunday Nanna and I will go away for a while. So, if you could manage today, that would be good. Otherwise it won’t be for some weeks, and . . . well, I would like to meet you. I’m really sorry he can’t be there for you. Really very sorry. He was so looking forward to your viva.’
    I bet he was looking forward to grilling me and failing me, Anna thought, but Mrs Helland said: ‘He was so proud of you.’
    Anna thought she must have misheard.
    ‘Pardon?’ she said.
    ‘When can you get here?’ Mrs Helland asked.
    ‘I just need to take my shopping home and then I’ll make my way to your house.’
    ‘I appreciate it,’ Mrs Helland said. ‘See you very soon.’
    The Hellands’ villa was in a suburb called Herlev, set back from the road and hidden behind a maze of scrub and bushes crippled by the frost. The gate was freshly painted. Anna heard birdsong in the front garden and spotted several feeding tables laden with seed balls and sheaves of wheat. She rang the doorbell. Birgit Helland was a tiny woman, just over a metre and a half tall. Her eyes were red and her smile was pale.
    ‘Hello, Anna,’ she said, holding out a hand which felt more like a small piece of animal hide than something human. The house was clean and tidy, airy and light. In the living room were books from floor to ceiling on the windowless wall facing a colossal garden. Mrs Helland invited Anna to sit down on one of two white, wool-upholstered sofas anddisappeared into the kitchen. Shortly afterwards she appeared with cups and a teapot, which she placed on the stove.
    ‘I’m really very sorry,’ Anna said.
    ‘I’m so glad you could come,’ Mrs Helland said. ‘We’re in a state, I’m afraid.’ Tears started rolling down her cheeks and she did nothing to stop them.
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Anna said again.
    ‘For the first two days the telephone wouldn’t stop ringing. The Dean, the Head of the Institute. Former postgraduate students, colleagues from all over the world. They all wanted to offer their condolences. Most out of genuine compassion, but quite a few just rang out of politeness. I can’t imagine why anyone would offer their condolences if they didn’t care about the person who died, can you?’
    Anna shook her head.
    ‘A lot of people didn’t like Lars. I can see why. Lars wasn’t an easy man.’ She smiled. ‘But then, who is?’ She looked gravely at Anna. ‘The telephone has stopped ringing now,’ she added, glancing at the table where it stood.
    ‘You didn’t call,’ Mrs Helland said. ‘Why not?’
    Anna gulped.
    ‘Lars was sure you didn’t like him.’ She looked kindly at Anna. ‘Though he never cared very much whether or not people did. “Never mind,” he would say. “That’s their problem. That will stir things up.” Lars loved stirring