Page 67 of Be Less Panda
Nancy remembered him doing an excellent job on Jack’s ex-wife. ‘Does he cover Germany?’
‘I’ve no idea, but I assume he’s got contacts who can help if he doesn’t. I’ll find his details and text you.’
Later that afternoon, Nancy walked up the old, narrow servants’ stairs into the attic rooms at the top of the house.
There were piles of boxes of old papers and discarded furniture from decades ago. She ought to sort through it all. There might be some hidden gems she could reinstate downstairs or sell. But she’d been saying that ever since she inherited the house in the 1970s. It wasn’t fair to leave all this for Mark and Nigel to sort through when she eventually shuffled off this mortal coil. However, that wasn’t why she was up here today.
Olivia’s private detective had got straight back to Nancy after she’d texted him. He couldn’t help, he said, but herecommended a company in Berlin and gave her their email address. After exchanging a few messages, they’d agreed on a price. She’d given them all the information she had on Hans, including a photo of the envelope the letter had come in, in case they could decipher the postmark. But they’d also asked if she had a photo of him, and she’d only ever had one of those.
She moved a few boxes out of the way, coughing at the clouds of dust she was stirring up. A cardboard filing box labelled “Nancy 1972” caught her eye. She knocked the thick layer of dust off the top so it wouldn’t fall on the contents, then carefully lifted the lid. Some old children’s books and a photo album lay on top. But underneath, she found what she was looking for: a sheaf of letters tied up with a red ribbon. The envelope on top had “Nancy” written on it in Hans’ writing. She stifled a sniffle.
You ridiculous woman,she said to herself as she undid the ribbon. The bundle contained every letter and card she’d received in Paris, including the note Hans had pushed under her door to schedule his first English lesson. She flicked through the papers until she found the envelope she was looking for.
It was a card from Ingrid and Dieter to say thank you for their wedding present. Inside the card, Ingrid had included a copy of the photo of the wedding party the passerby had taken with Christa’s little camera. There they all stood, the newlyweds in the centre with Christa, Olivia and Pierre on Ingrid’s side and Nancy and Hans next to Dieter.
Darling Hans. Seeing his slightly crooked smile made her heartbeat speed up. Or you forgot to take your tablets this morning.
He looked so young. They all did. The picture was too small to show his long blond eyelashes, but she could see them clearly in her mind’s eye as she remembered the feel ofhis lips on hers the first time he’d kissed her by the restaurant.Get a grip, woman. All this talk of babies must be making you sentimental in your old age.
32
The following week, Nancy received an email from the detective agency.
Dear Mrs Farnham.
We are sorry to tell you we have been unable to find Herr Schmidt. The only Hans Schmidt with the birthdate you gave us sadly passed away at the age of 2 in 1941. We have looked for men called Hans Schmidt who are of a similar age, including those for whom Hans is a middle name, but none of them are or were importers or exporters or could have been in Paris in 1964. The telephone number you gave us for him is not publicly listed, so we have been unable to confirm to whom it belongs.
It is very unusual for us to fail to find an individual. Is there any further information you could give us?
We have attached our invoice for the work we have carried out so far. We would appreciate payment within ten working days.
Nancy reread the email. How could they have completely failed to find Hans? Their website contained lots of positive reviews and certifications, and Olivia’s private detective had said he’d used them several times and always found them highly efficient. She had to assume they were correct - therewas no information out there, which meant the letter was a scam after all, but her instincts told her it was genuine.
What should she do? The sensible thing would be to ignore it.Since when have you ever done the sensible thing, Nancy Smith?Sod it. She needed to know what was going on. It would be lunchtime in Germany now. She tapped the number he’d given into her phone and pressed the Green dial button.
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
‘Hallo.’ Was it Hans? The voice didn’t sound familiar. Nancy realised that she’d never spoken to Hans on the phone before, and, in any case, his voice was bound to have changed after all these years.
‘Guten Tag,’ she said in her best German. ‘Am I speaking to Hans Schmidt?’
She heard him take a sharp intake of breath. ‘Hello, Nancy,’ he replied.
‘How did you know it was me?’
He chuckled. That sound was familiar - wonderfully familiar. Nancy allowed herself a sigh of relief. Not a scam then - or if it was, it was Hans who was scamming her.
‘I was hoping you would call,’ he said. ‘I was only thinking about you this morning but then I think about you often.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. We had happy times together. Yes?’
‘Yes, we did.’
‘I often wondered how you were and what you were doing.’
Nancy opened her mouth but no sound would come out.