Handsome and Greta (Seven Ways to Sin 3)

“My goodness,” I exclaimed. “I can’t possibly eat all of that.”

“It’s good for you,” said Betty. “Get some meat on your bones.” She gave me a friendly smile but looked me up and down when she said “bones”.

“Well, I’ll do my best,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Smells delicious,” said Hans.

“It is,” said Betty enthusiastically. Then she leaned over and whispered, “When you finish, I’ll bring you more. It’s all you can eat.”

I resisted a laugh. Even Hans, who never gets full, won’t be able to finish.

The stew was sweeter than I would have cared for, and it was rich. The few spoonfuls I had lay heavy in my stomach. Hans, on the other hand, seemed to take Betty’s offer as a challenge. A challenge he was determined to meet.

A few minutes later, Betty returned with a smile—a smile that quickly faded when she saw that I hadn’t eaten much from the bowl. “My, you’ve hardly eaten,” she said with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

“It’s good,” I lied, “but quite rich.”

“Me,” said Hans, “I’ve nearly finished mine.”

Betty beamed. She looked at me and said, “See, your brother has the right idea.”

“How did you know we were brother and sister?”

Betty cocked her head to the side. “My dear, the family resemblance is obvious. Either you’re brother and sister or old Betty’s lost her eyesight.”

I smiled. “Well, Betty, have no fear. You haven’t lost your eyesight. We are related.”

“I know,” she said, then she stood over me in awkward silence. After a long moment, she said, “The chef is going to be heartbroken if you don’t eat.”

“Well, I…”

“How about a few more bites,” said Betty. “It gets better the more you eat.”

“That’s true,” said Hans.

I glared at him. I did not need to be double pressured into eating.

“One more bite,” said Betty.

I changed the subject. “Betty, wasn’t there a petting zoo nearby?”

She furrowed her brow. “A petting zoo?”

“Yeah, it was run by a Mr. Edison.”

She turned her head and looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “This isn’t your first time in Perth?”

“Um, a friend of mine in New York told me about it.”

“A friend of yours?”

“Yeah, she said when she was young she used to go to a petting zoo run by an old guy named Mr. Edison.”

Betty’s smile had completely gone. In its place was a look of mistrust that made me feel a bit nervous.

“Um, she asked me if I would take a picture of it for her,” I said.

“Did she now?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why is she looking at me like that? It might not be completely true, but it’s a perfectly innocent question.

“Do you know anything about that?” I asked. “Do you know what happened to it?”

“What makes you think something happened to it?” she asked. This time I detected a slight tinge of anger in her voice.

“Um, I mean, we looked for it but couldn’t find it.”

Betty frowned. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for your friend. Mr. Edison passed away a few years ago. The petty zoo - well, it wasn’t really a petty zoo, just some property he had with a bunch of animals. He would organize field trips for the kids at the orphanage for them to visit the animals. Anyway, after he passed away, his property was torn down.”

“Oh.” I nodded.

“Wouldn’t make much of a photograph now,” said Betty. “Just an ordinary parking lot, I’m afraid.”

“I see.”

“Is your friend from the orphanage?” Betty asked.

I could feel my face turning red, partly from the stew, but also I got the sense that Betty could tell I was lying about my friend. “Um, I don’t know. I never asked.”

Betty nodded. “But there’s plenty of other sights to take pictures of, especially in the mountains.”

“Yes, that’s true.” I smiled.

“But you’ll need your energy if you’re going to hike in the mountains. I’ll leave you to finish your stew.” She winked at me then turned and walked back to the kitchen.

When she was out of earshot, I leaned over the table and whispered. “That was strange.”

Hans burped then covered his mouth. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

After dinner, Hans said he wasn’t feeling well—no surprise there—and went back to the room to lie down. I wasn’t feeling too hot either. Even though I’d only had a few spoonfuls, the little stew that I’d had felt like cement in my stomach.

“Why did Betty lie?” I said to Hans. “We saw Mr. Edison’s petting zoo from the lookout. It wasn’t turned into a parking lot.”

“Maybe she wasn’t lying,” said Hans. “Maybe there was a parking lot built nearby and she got the two confused.”

I twisted my lips into a dubious frown. “I don’t think she was confused. I think she was lying.”

“Well, you would know,” said Hans.

“What do you mean by that?”

He pointed at me. “You were lying to her, too. ‘My friend from New York’.”