They were awakened by the ringing of the phone and opened their eyes at the same time. They each looked a little surprised, as the daylight coming in through the window made them realise they had spent the whole night on the sofa.
Daneel started to get up, but Jean-Marie motioned for him to stay seated and went to answer. Daneel stretched, feeling slightly groggy and trying to blow away the cobwebs.
"Hello, Mr. Daneel De Smet? This is Inspector Lutgen," said the voice at the other end of the line.
"No, it's Jean-Marie Dubois, the friend who accompanied him to the police station yesterday."
"Oh yes. Well, tell Mr. De Smet that he should come to identify his father's body. Can you accompany him?"
"Of course, where? At the police station?"
"No, at the hospital morgue, the forensic medicine section at the Clinique Saint-Luc in Bouge. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, sure. Is there an admission time?"
"If you could come within the hour, I will still be there and I could witness the identification. It would speed things up and simplify the process."
"Alright, good. I think it's better if you're there."
"And that you accompany your friend, I think. It will certainly not be a beautiful sight."
"I can imagine."
Putting the phone down he turned to Daneel who was looking at him, massaging his arms.
"That was the inspector," he told him.
"He needs me to go and identify my dad's body, right?"
"Yes. He asked if we could get there within the hour."
"I knew it. Yes, let's go right away."
"Do you want to take a shower first and have some breakfast?"
"Breakfast? No, I really don't think so. Let's go right away. If it's alright with you?"
"Sure. You'll have to be strong, Daneel."
"Yes. Dad told me that I should be strong, very strong. He also told me that you will give me the strength I lack."
Jean-Marie hugged him tightly.
They got into the car and Jean-Marie drove to Bouge, to the Clinique Saint-Luc. They inquired about where the forensic mortuary was. When they entered, the inspector was at the door with two agents. He entered with them and nodded to the nurse, who removed a white cloth from a stretcher in the middle of the room.
The skeleton was still wearing scraps of clothing and was slightly soiled with earth, despite having been partially cleaned up. He was still hog tied like a pig who is brought to slaughter. Daneel looked at him, pressing his lips between his teeth and trying to repress the sobs that shook him. Jean-Marie put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, almost as if to give him strength, though he too was shaken by the sight.
Daneel nodded: "Yes, it's him. It's Pauwels De Smet, my father. He's wearing the same clothes he wore the last time I saw him. The ring is his and the glasses," he said, in a broken, low voice. Daneel turned pale and leant his head on Jean-Marie's shoulder, then burst out crying, clinging almost to his shoulders. Jean-Marie hugged him and wept with him. It was a shock to him too. He imagined how much stronger the feelings and emotions for his loved one would be. The inspector looked at them without saying anything and waved to the nurse to cover the poor remains with the sheet again.
"Can I... can I go now?" Daneel asked, begged almost.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, but it had to be done," the inspector murmured.
Despite it being part of his job and having to get used to death, he was always shaken by the pain of the living, especially the younger ones. Perhaps in this instance because he had a son only, a little younger than Daneel.
"Yes sure." Jean-Marie said, then added: "Look, inspector, we thought, seeing that Daneel doesn't feel like staying at home for now; not just because he doesn't want his mother to arrive before you stop her, but neither does he feel like seeing his stepfather, although he had nothing to do with any of this. So we thought we could find somewhere else to stay, if it's allowed, if you have no objections."
"Of course, I understand. No, there's no problem. Just give me the new address." The inspector was trying hard to hide his emotions.
Jean-Marie accompanied his friend outside.
"Let's take a walk. Here, in the neighbourhood." Daneel told Jean.
"Yes. Alright."
"He had the same clothes on. Those he wore when he came back to me and the same ring and glasses. You saw how they tied him up, poor dad, those... those two..."
"Yup..."
"Do you think they will let me have his ring?"
"I think so, when... when it's all over. You'll have to apply, I think, but they should give it to you."
"We can look for a house right away, for the two of us?"
"Yes, but if we don't find it immediately, in the meantime you can come and sleep at my house, with me."
"But your parents don't know about you and..."
"I don't care."
"No, maybe it's better if we don't find something immediately that I find myself a room in a pension. I don't know, but I don't feel like facing your parents."
"A room for two, anyway," said Jean-Marie.
"Yes, even better."
"And what about the house? What do you intend to do with it? Does it belong only to your mother or your mother and stepfather? "
"It belongs to me. I don't know why, but it is registered in my name. Yeah, I never asked myself why that was."
"Maybe they registered it to you for tax reasons."
"Yes, maybe. Better this way, anyway; at least I can put it up for sale right away."
"If you entrust everything to a real estate agency, it might be easier for you to find another house, they can do it faster if it's selling and buying."
"But the new house I want it in both our names."
"As you like. Where do you want us to look for the new house?" Jean-Marie asked him, thinking that talking about that would take away the thoughts of his beloved from the pitiful vision of the poor remains of his father.
"Between the newspaper and the company where you work."
"I still have the car."
"It's not too hot today." Daneel murmured, looking around.
"No, that's true."
"Poor daddy," Daneel whispered. "He didn't leave me. He didn't abandon me. Never."
"Of course, never."
They walked for a long time; talking a little about the house, a bit about his father, about themselves and they talked about something else, as it happens. But Daneel never spoke of his mother or the crime. Jean-Marie did not try to direct the conversation in one way or another; he let Daneel talk about what he felt good talking about, sensing that this was perhaps the best way to allow his friend to process things and find some calm.
When it was time for lunch, they were still walking slowly up and down around the hospital, in front of which Jean-Marie's car was parked. He offered to take him to eat somewhere and Daneel accepted.
They found a small country inn outside Namur and took a seat at one of the back tables under a pergola. Daneel asked Jean-Marie to order for him and they ate in silence. After lunch, they returned to the city and went to look for a real estate agency. Daneel was in a hurry to move. They were lucky and quickly found an available apartment. The agency would take care of the property transaction. Daneel, as they left, told Jean-Marie that it was his father who was assisting them.
The manager of the agency took them to see the apartment, it had just been refurbished; the walls had been repainted and the floor polished.
It was a bright apartment on the fourth floor of a very nice house built about ten years ago. It had an entrance hall, two bedrooms, a living room, large kitchen, a nice bathroom and a large terrace.
They went immediately to sign and the agency gave them the keys. They contacted a moving company suggested by the agency, who told them they could send a truck the following day. Daneel asked them to move just his bedroom, his personal belongings and the living room armchair his father sat in when he disappeared. Nothing else.
The first day they went to live in their new apartment, they made love once more, on Daneel's small bed. After that first time, in fact, they had not yet been able to. They made love for a long time; calmly, with tenderness, with pleasure, and for Daneel it was a true balm. It contributed a lot to making him regain a certain serenity.
In the following days he wanted to go with Jean-Marie and choose the rest of the furniture, including, logically, a beautiful, modern double bed. Jean-Marie told his family that he was going to live with Daneel, justifying it with the tragedy that had struck his friend. Whether they believed him or not, the family made no fuss.
Meanwhile, they had to return to work. With the news of the discovery of the corpse of Pauwels De Smet and consequently also that of Daneel's denunciation of his mother and her ancient accomplice-lover, the journalists set out to track him down. However, they couldn't find his new address, which according to Daneel, was because of his father's help.
In fact; neither the real estate agency, warned by Jean-Marie; nor the police; or the newspaper where Daneel worked, directly to the director; none decided to give out the boy's new address.
When Daneel returned to work in the archive of Le Quotidien de Namur, naturally all his colleagues were aware of the tragic story and had talked a lot about it, with each other. The boss immediately took him aside.
"Daneel, as you can imagine, we learned of the double tragedy that struck you."
"Yup..."
"And we decided not to talk about it, to leave you alone, it's the only thing we can do for you, besides expressing to you, through me, our condolences and our sympathy."
"Thank you."
"You will still have some difficult moments to surmount during the time of the trial and unfortunately if there's an appeal things could go on for a long time."
"I instructed my lawyer to represent me. I don't intend to testify against my mother or her accomplice. Besides I couldn't say anything, I don't know anything. The lawyer told me he thinks the judge will understand and will not force me to be present and testify."
"Yes, I understand, of course. I hope it works out for you."
When the judge gave his authorisation, Daneel received his father's ring and glasses, and was allowed to bury him. He did not want anyone at the burial, apart from Jean-Marie, he didn't communicate the date, not even to his father's relatives, but he let them know where he had been buried. After the simple ceremony; Daneel, holding Jean-Marie by the hand, showed him the picture of his father which he had placed on the tombstone.
"See, Jean... this is Dad."
He did not say was, but is.
"Yes, a handsome man, with a beautiful smile."
"Yes, handsome and above all good. And dad, look, this is my Jean-Marie." Daneel whispered, touching the tombstone with his fingers.
"I don't look much like daddy, he said I take more after my grandmother, from my mother's side of the family."
"The nose, the forehead, a little bit of the mouth... it's the same." Jean-Marie told him with a tender smile.
"Because you love me, you see a resemblance with those who love me." he said serenely.
"I would have liked to meet him."
"I too would have liked that. But I think you would not have seen him, not you. He didn't want to meet you and for that reason he also didn't want me to talk to you about him. It was not yet time, that much I knew. I understood he had returned to me, but in reality he was already dead. You know, they say the dead have no shadow. I didn't notice, because we were always home and I thought he was still alive, so... I didn't notice. If he had not also been at home before and after the first time we made love, I would think it was all a dream."
"Why do you say also, Daneel? I believe he returned, that he returned for you."
"No, I say also, because I told the inspector it was a dream and he believed it. People believe in dreams. Well, rest in peace, Daddy, I love you." Daneel murmured and still holding Jean-Marie by the hand, left the cemetery.
Daneel's mother was stopped and arrested as soon as she returned to Belgium. The inspector knew from the travel agency which train they would return on and the border police intervened.
At the trial for murder, both Adeline Peeters and Jaspar Baert were sentenced to life imprisonment for premeditated homicide carried out with particular brutality, and by criminal association. The defence lawyer's argument that Adeline Peeters was incapable of understanding and hence acted with diminished responsibility was largely denied by court experts. The lawyers of the two defendants logically appealed, but the verdict was upheld.
Meanwhile, Petrus Rottier, Adeline Peeters' second husband, asked for and obtained a divorce. He tried to meet Daneel, but Jean-Marie served as a filter, and he went with him to the warehouse where all the contents of the house were stored, to have him take away his personal belongings and whatever he was interested in keeping. The rest, Daneel decided would be given to a charity for the poor.
Lastly, the High Court reconfirmed the previous sentences. Surely all the material contained in the box, which Adeline Peeters had hidden in the cellar, constituted overwhelming proof of guilt for both of them. The DNA from the hair found under the nails of the corpse implicated Jaspar Baert, whose lawyers had tried to say he had not participated in the murder. However, it was clear from the recordings that he had taken part in the planning and execution of the ambush.
Daneel passed almost unharmed through the three stages of the trial. He was found by the journalists, first, as is logical, by those from Le Quotidien de Namur, but assisted by Jean-Marie when he was at home, and by his boss and colleagues when he was at work, he kept saying to everyone that he did not know anything and only by accident had he found evidence of the murder, which he therefore provided to the police.
"What would you say to your mother now?" a reporter asked him.
"Nothing!"
"Do you forgive her?" asked another.
"She must ask God for forgiveness, not me. And anyhow, she did not ask me."
"Do you hate her?" asked a journalist.
"You cannot hate those who do not exist anymore. And for me she no longer exists."
"What did you feel when you had to identify the body of your..." another journalist started.
"Don't you have the slightest bit of shame? Go away, leave us alone! If you want to understand how it is, what one feels like, then perhaps you should go through the same experience!" Jean-Marie said harshly, and led Daneel away.
Reading the newspapers, it seemed in the tapes his mother had recorded, the woman never talked about the real reason she decided to kill her husband. While it was very clear she promised she would become her partner in crime's lover if he helped her. Thus the gay past of Daneel's father did not appear in any newspaper.
Daneel was pleased, because he knew this would muddy his father's memory, given the current mentality of so-called decent and right-minded people, so someone would no doubt come forward to justify his mother's actions.
When the judicial process finally came to an end and the newspapers stopped covering the case, Jean-Marie's parents told him that now his friend no longer needed his presence, and he could return home.
Jean-Marie replied that he was living there now, with his friend. He was fine and did not see the need to leave him.
"Come on, Jean-Marie!" his father told him. "We understood and also appreciated the fact that you wanted to take care of your friend and be close to him because of the tragedy that struck him. But now that's over, he must make his life and you yours, right? You cannot be his nurse forever!"
"I don't nurse him, Dad. Daneel still needs me and I need him too. We fit very well together and it is not just because of his tragedy I decided; indeed, that we decided, to continue living together."
"What does that mean, you still need him?" his mother asked, scrutinising his expression.
"It simply means we decided to live together."
"But he's not your girlfriend, right? What's the point? He'll find a girl, he'll get married, and you too, you're the right age to think seriously about starting a family," said his father.
"Daneel and I... we are a family," his son answered.
"You're not saying," his father reacted, looking at him in amazement, incredulous. In a low voice he asked him, "You mean that, you and that boy, you are... that you are gay?"
"Yes, Daddy, and we're in love. I'm sorry, if this disappoints you, if it hurts you, but it's like that."
There was a heavy silence in the room.
Then his mother asked, also in a low voice, "But, Jean-Marie, are you sure? Are you both sure? That is, I mean... both he and... and you... It's not just... just one of you?"
"Daddy, mum, I always knew I was like this, even before I met Daneel, and he too knew he was gay. It took us almost a year before deciding to get together, although we knew one another. It's not an adventure, it's not a kids escapade, it's not... Daneel and I love each other, and we intend to live together, I for him and he for me."
His father nodded, with a serious expression, frowning. "I don't know, but maybe... maybe I've always known, understood... You never talked about girls, you, and... But a father always hopes his child is normal and perhaps naively refuses to believe what even his subconscious senses."
"Dad! Mom! I am normal. Daneel is normal. The fact that we're not like the majority doesn't mean we're not two normal guys."
"But, Jean-Marie are you happy being like that?" his mother asked him uncertainly.
"No, mother, we are neither happy nor sorry, but we are very happy to be in love with each other, yes."
"What do you want me to say, Jean-Marie?" his father said, still slightly tense but quiet, "If you are like that and if you get on well together, I hope... I wish you all the best. I understand that you want to live with him."
"You've always talked about him, but you never let us get to know him," his mother said.
His father looked at her a little surprised. His mother smiled at him and rested a hand on his arm. "Dad, if that is his life, if our Jean-Marie is fine with this boy, it seems logical I would like to meet him, get to know him, right?"
"Well, I don't know. I understand if Jean-Marie is this way we cannot do anything about it. Of course, I prefer he is with this boy rather than... hanging around certain places. But this is not the same thing as if he had a girlfriend, right? " his father asked, a little confused.
"Why, dad?" his mother asked him, lightly caressing his forearm and looking at him with an uncertain, but tender smile. "If they love each other. If our Jean-Marie is happy with this guy. Is not this the important thing for us? What's the difference?"
"But he is a boy, not a girl! How should I call him, regard him? Daughter-in-law? Son-in-law? What else in law?"
"Simply by name, simply Daneel, dad, don't you think?" his mother said sweetly. "And if he loves our son, we should love him for that, shouldn't we? They will have enough difficulties in life from people's prejudices, we should not add to it. If we love Jean-Marie, if we really love him, Dad, if we accept him as he is, we must also accept the boy he loves, isn't that true?"
Jean-Marie looked at them with affection, he was moved. He hadn't expected such a reaction, and was both pleased and relieved.
His father looked at his wife, then Jean-Marie: "Of course we love you, Jean-Marie. You've always been a smart son. Sure, mom and I didn't know and so we hoped that one day you would introduce us to a nice girl."
"It's logical, Dad, but I cannot do anything if..."
"From what you told us about him, even that poor Daneel is a very good boy, Dad," interjected.
"Yes... yes... alright..." his father said. Then he gave a deep sigh. "What do you want me to say, Jean-Marie; as long as you are happy together, as long as you love each other, he will always be welcome in this house."
"Thank you, Dad, thank you, mum." Jean-Marie said in a low voice, deeply moved. "I love you and... and Daneel too will love you... and you him, when you know him. He no longer has a family, apart from me and... and if you welcome him it will be a very beautiful thing for him."
"When are you going to introduce him to know us, then?" his father asked, sketching a slightly shy smile.
"What do you think if the boys come for lunch next Sunday?" His mother proposed.
"Yes... yes, alright... for me it's okay, and for you, Jean-Marie?" his father asked, still slightly hesitant.
"I think so, we should be free, but I have to check with him first."
"Well, let us know," his mother said. Then she asked, "Is there anything that Daneel cannot, or does not like to eat?"
Jean-Marie smiled at that practical question, which in fact cleared the situation. "No, I don't know, don't worry mom, he will like your cooking."
Daneel was very happy with the invitation and even more so for the acceptance of Jean-Marie into his family. So on Sunday, they presented themselves at his parents' door. Daneel wanted to bring a bouquet of flowers for his mother and a bottle of good wine for his father.
When they rang the bell, both parents came to open, and they greeted the boys with a little uncertain smile. Jean-Marie made the presentations. They entered and went to sit in the living room. His father started talking about the weather, how autumn was mild and pleasant, then they talked about urban transport and other trivia, which showed there was still some embarrassment.
At one point his mother stood up and said, "Excuse me, but I have to go and make the finishing touches in the kitchen, so we can sit down at the table."
"I'm coming to help you!" Jean-Marie said promptly, getting up and following her.
As soon as they were in the kitchen, his mother said to him: "My God, how beautiful your Daneel is! And what a sweet expression, what good eyes!"
"Do you like him, mom?" asked Jean-Marie, happy.
"Yes a lot. And if I think of everything that he had to go through, poor boy! He is so tender. And how he looks at you and you look at him, anyone can see that you are in love. May God protect you, my son, and give you so much happiness."
Jean-Marie hugged her: "Thank you, mum. And dad?"
Just then, from the living room, came the sound of amused laughter.
"It looks like it's going well," his mother said cheerfully. "But now come on, let's get to work, we have to put on a spread!"
"Yes mom."
When they were alone, Daneel said to his father, "I suppose it was not easy for you, Mr. Dubois, to find out that your son is with me. I mean..."
"Yes, I know what you mean. No, it was not easy, I never really suspected it, but something, quite buried inside me, whispered it to me"
"Yes, Jean-Marie told me."
"Yes. But after all, if Jean-Marie is this way, if you two are like that. We are only interested in having our son happy and it seems he is happy, with you. That you have serious intentions."
"Of course we have serious intentions, Mr. Dubois. I hope to be able to always make him happy. I... I really love him, Mr. Dubois, believe me."
"Yes... I can see it. One would be blind not to see it. What do you want me to say. In Holland and in other countries you could even marry, and it seems they are discussing changing the law here to allow two, like you, to get married."
"Yes and... and if the law, like Jean-Marie and I hope, passes, we would like to get married, Mr. Dubois."
"Yes, I see. Well, if you love each other it would also be logical, I think.
But, excuse me, Daneel, but more couples of regularly married men and women divorce, you on the contrary want to get married."
"The fact that people divorce does not detract from the value of marriage, when there is love. And we would like a true marriage, not just a recognition of being a de facto couple."
"A true wedding with a beautiful ceremony, a wedding banquet and a honeymoon," said his father.
"Well, these are secondary aspects, like the white veil and..."
"The white veil?"
"I really believe, Mr. Dubois, that both Jean-Marie and I, would definitely refuse to wear the white veil!" exclaimed Daneel with laughing eyes.
Mr. Dubois laughed, amused at the idea, and Daneel laughed with him.
"I really hope it's as you say!" said his father, then added: "Anyway, I like you, Daneel and you know, you know what I'm saying : isn't it time for us to call each other by our Christian names, you, my wife and myself?"
"I would be really happy and honoured." Daneel answered, moved.
"And if... if you feel like it, you could even call us mom and dad."
"With real pleasure... dad." Daneel said and felt tears of emotion press into his eyes.
Jean-Marie's father noticed it, got up, made Daneel stand up and held him in a manly embrace. "We are your family, now my son!" he whispered, also moved.
"Thank you, Dad." Daneel murmured and he did not even know if that thank you was more addressed to his father or to Jean-Marie's, or to both of them, in a single, sweet, happy, big hug.