Free Candied Crime by Dorte Hummelshoj Jakobsen Page A

He even considered buying a
camera so he could immortalize particularly beautiful specimen from
his perambulations.
    He went out to put on his
galoshes; the wood could be damp and chilly even on a sunny
afternoon. Mildred stood in the doorway with her shopping list.
“Arnold, I thought perhaps we should try a mushroom stew
tonight.”
    That was when he threw his book
out.
     

4 . The Princess on the Pea
     
    Finally! I raise my crystal
glass and nod to my parents-in-law. Neither too little nor too
much.
    Frederick gives me an
encouraging squeeze behind the veil. We have only had the first
course so I´d better keep my cool. I sip at a glass of water.
    Some cousin raises his glass,
and I drink with all the buffoons again. Broad smiles from almost
everyone.
    As I didn´t bring any parents,
my in-law gets up to give the obligatory speech. That doesn´t worry
me, he is of the old school and would never crap in his own nest.
Well-known platitudes you can just smile at. He and I will get
along; at least he appreciates my good points.
    The
second course is brought in. A few tufts
of some green stuff sprinkled on a strip of fish and a morsel of
toast which could not satisfy a sparrow. I presume that is how you
recognize haute cuisine and tell my stomach to stop
rumbling.
    Now it is
Frederick´s turn. On the whole I loathe speeches, but I have been
looking forward to this one. Frederick is so besotted that he
wouldn´t notice if I ate my pudding with a shoe. He towers above me
while he sends me a radiant smile. He rustles a sheet of handmade
paper while he clears his throat; despite his age and experience he
is slightly nervous. How sweet!
    “ Your
Majesty...” a servant approaches my mother-in-law with a cordless
phone in his hand. She sends him a look that could pierce an
iceberg. He stutters, but holds his own. At length she motions
Frederick to sit down, her eyes promising that someone will have to
pay for this breach of etiquette.
    She fires a couple of fiery
questions into the mouthpiece. “Oh, is that so?”
    My goodness, now she pricks up
her ears. What´s up?
    She steps over to me and hands
me the phone while her lips curl in the sweetest smile.
    “ I have some
Australian here who would love to speak to you. He says he is your
husband.”

5 . A Nightly Burger
     
    ”Are you a burger?”
    My head
nearly hit the roof beams. A little boy in pyjamas, holding a
threadbare, one-eyed teddy in his arms, materialized right behind
me. Where on earth did he come from? And why hadn´t I heard
him?
    “Am I a what?”
    “ A burger! I
thought p´raps you were burgering the house. Then I would have to
wake up my daddy, wouldn´t I, and he would be so cross!”
    “Course I´m not a burglar. I´m …
Well, I am working here.”
    “Doing what?” He cocked his head
and scrutinized me from head to foot while searching for something
up his nose. Multitasking I think they call it.
    “ Eh, that´s
not so easy to explain.” I fiddled with the silverware in front of
me and picked a few promising items which I put into my bag. If
only that boy had had a proper mother she would surely see to it
that he went to bed at night and stayed there!
    Apparently he didn´t know when
his company was unwanted. He climbed onto a chair so he could stick
his nose into whatever was going on in the top drawer of his
parents´ antique bureau. “What are you going to do with those?”
    “ Oh, won´t
you just shut up?” I clenched my hand around a large
soupspoon.
    ”Why?” He didn´t look the least
offended, just genuinely curious.
    ”Oh, because … well, because
you´ll wake up your daddy, and he will be cross, won´t he?” A
brilliant answer if I may say so. As you have probably guessed,
children are not my thing. What did one do with them? Should I tie
and gag him, or could I bump him on the head? Run off? Give up the
whole blasted business for tonight?
    He was quiet
for a few moments, then he began a whispered conference with his
teddy. “Teddy