Free Through Dead Eyes by Chris Priestley

head.
    ‘You don’t think so?’ said Angelien.
    ‘No,’ said his father. ‘I would bet twenty euros it’s a fake.’
    ‘You haven’t even looked at it, Dad,’ said Alex. ‘How would you know?’
    ‘Historians just have a nose for this kind of thing,’ he said with a smile.
    Angelien frowned and pouted her lips but made no reply.
    ‘Anyway,’ said Saskia, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Sometimes it’s hard to explain why we buy such things. Sometimes they just seem irresistible. Did the person who sold it to you tell you something interesting about it?’
    ‘No,’ said Alex. ‘I don’t know why I bought it really.’
    Alex’s father sighed and shook his head again.
    ‘You could always try to take it back,’ he said.
    ‘No!’ said Alex loudly enough to attract the attention of the diners around them. He was surprised at the vehemence of his own voice.
    ‘OK,’ said his father firmly. ‘Calm down.’
    ‘Oh, leave him alone, Jeremy,’ said Saskia. ‘They wouldn’t take it back anyway, would they, Angelien?’
    Angelien shook her head.
    ‘No chance,’ she said.
    Alex’s father opened his mouth to say something else but Saskia jumped in ahead of him and began telling a story about an Italian restaurant she had been to in Rome where the kitchen had caught fire. Alex caught Angelien’s eye and smiled to himself.
    Talk of the mask put Alex on edge once more and he forced himself to concentrate on the conversation around him to stop himself thinking about it. It was too weird.
    ‘Well that was excellent,’ said Alex’s father when they had all finished.
    ‘It really was,’ said Alex.
    He had eaten more than he had intended to and his stomach felt as though it was about to burst. Saskia could not have looked more pleased had she cooked the meal herself.
    ‘Have you had enough?’ she asked.
    ‘I have,’ said Alex’s father. ‘I’m stuffed.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Alex.
    ‘But don’t let us stop you,’ said Alex’s father.
    ‘No, no, no,’ said Saskia with a chuckle. ‘We have to watch our weight, don’t we, Angelien?’
    Angelien looked at Alex and shook her head witheringly. Saskia ignored her and waved to the waitress and asked for the bill.
    ‘You must let me pay,’ said Alex’s father, grabbing the bill as it was put down on the table.
    ‘No, no –’
    ‘We insist,’ said Alex’s father. ‘Don’t we, Alex?’
    Alex grinned.
    ‘Yeah, we do,’ said Alex.
    ‘Well if you are sure,’ said Saskia. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said Angelien.
    ‘Nonsense,’ said Alex’s father, handing his card to the waitress. ‘It’s the least we could do.’

Chapter 9
     
    A large group of raucous and drunken Englishmen lumbered by as Alex and his father walked back to the hotel. Alex could hear them swearing and laughing, their harsh voices slapping against the buildings. It was worse somehow, being able to understand them. There were groups of drunken men all over Amsterdam, but only the English ones made him feel embarrassed.
    ‘It’s not too boring for you?’ asked his father. ‘All this socialising with people you don’t really know? I’m sorry we haven’t had more time together.’
    ‘That’s OK, Dad,’ said Alex. ‘And I’m sorry about the stuff at school. I know you were ashamed of me and everything.’
    His father came to a sudden halt and grabbed Alex’s arm. ‘I was never ashamed of you, Alex,’ he said. ‘I was worried about you, annoyed at you even – but ashamed? No.’
    ‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Alex. ‘I know I’ve caused a lot of trouble. I’m really sorry.’
    His father put his arms round him and hugged him.
    ‘We’ll get by, won’t we, eh?’ he said. ‘They try to put us down but we get back up again, don’t we?’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Alex.
    ‘It’s been a rough time for us both,’ said his father.
    ‘I know, Dad.’
    ‘Even so, I know it must be a bit awkward with Saskia and Angelien.’
    ‘No, Dad,’ said Alex. ‘It’s