With Piet in Amsterdam, everyone suffered. Sandra’s husband liked to pick her up at six o’clock sharp, when he’d finished his work at the accounting firm. With Catherine’s crowded schedule, she was often late, and Sandra was rattled, knowing that while she explained necessary information to Catherine, her husband was driving around the noisy streets, tired and impatient. Jason was unhappy, too, for Catherine usually helped with the flower arrangements, bantering and teasing and complimenting him. He felt neglected. He sighed a lot. His shoulders drooped.“Only a few more days, troops,” Catherine told them. “Then Piet will be home and we’ll be back on schedule.”In late January Catherine had returned from a client’s apartment and was in her office, dictating her notes from the meeting into a recorder. She liked to get her thoughts down while the imprint of the room, the preferences of her client, and her instinctive reactions were fresh in her mind. Jason would listen to the tapes, then discuss his own ideas with her before they settled on a definite theme.Now her intercom buzzed.
