Chapter 30
Had he ever been in this situation before? Not that he could remember. Jamie genuinely didn’t think he’d waited for someone wondering whether they were going to turn up.
Unless you counted Leon, who over the years had made a habit of dozing off on the sofa and arriving everywhere an hour later than everyone else.
But no woman had ever stood him up, which meant the not knowing was a whole new experience for him.
And he was rapidly discovering he didn’t like it.
Was Fen on her way or not? It was twelve minutes past five and the doubt and uncertainty were expanding inside him like Styrofoam.
He took a swallow of ice-cold lager, put the glass down on the table, then seconds later picked it up again.
The sun was setting outside, and from where he was sitting, down here in the bar below pavement level, he could see people’s legs as they walked past the high window.
Were those Fen’s legs in jeans? OK, no. What about those, approaching from the other direction?
But again no, she would never wear a skirt like that.
Maybe he’d be better off switching seats so he couldn’t look out for her.
Next moment, the right legs came into view, tanned and slim and instantly recognisable as they paused outside the hotel then made their way down the flight of stone steps to the sliding glass doors at the bottom.
And there she was, making her entrance and causing his heart to beat faster, with both relief and the joy of seeing her again after what had felt like far too long.
Her curly blonde hair was longer, her face and body thinner, and she was wearing an above-the-knee pale blue jersey dress with a cream denim jacket and blue ankle boots.
Jumping to his feet to greet her, Jamie banged the side of the table with his leg and sent his drink flying, just managing to catch the glass before it hit the floor but not before it had tipped lager all over the tabletop and down the front of his dark grey trousers.
Fuck, what an idiot, and now everyone in the bar’s staring at me.
But in a way, it worked as an ice-breaker.
Laughing, Fen pulled a pack of tissues from her oversized shoulder bag and stemmed the flow of lager dripping off the edge of the table.
Two members of the bar staff swooped in with cloths and a third brought Jamie a fresh drink, then took Fen’s order of a glass of Chenin blanc.
Finally calm was restored and they took their seats. Jamie said, ‘Shall we start again? Thanks for coming. I was looking at all the legs going by, wondering if they were yours.’ Shut up, you’re gabbling. ‘Anyway, it’s good to see you.’
‘You too.’ Her eyes bright, Fen clinked her glass against his.
‘I didn’t know if you were going to stand me up.’
‘I didn’t know either.’
He shook his head, confused. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know, I suppose I just expected us to lose touch.’
‘Well, you not replying to any of my messages is one way to make sure that happens.’
‘Sorry.’ Her cheeks grew pink. ‘I thought the only thing we had in common was Leon. Once he’d gone, there was no reason to stay in contact. We live different lives. You’d go your way and I’d go mine.’ She shrugged. ‘I assumed that was what would happen.’
Her words cut him to the quick. ‘You see, that didn’t even occur to me. I thought we’d never lose touch.’
But Fen didn’t reply; she was looking past him now at the rows and rows of books lining the walls of the bar.
Since arriving here, Jamie had learned that the Ambassade was known as the writers’ hotel, where novelists and non-fiction authors stayed when they came to Amsterdam.
Every one of the books in the glass-fronted cases had been signed by its author, and he’d told himself he could pretend to study them with interest if Fen stood him up.
But that hadn’t happened. She was here. The relief was enormous.
‘I haven’t been very sociable.’ Fen turned back to him suddenly. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a tricky few months. Would you like me to unblock your number?’
He broke into a smile. This was progress. ‘I’d like that very much.’
She took out her phone and pressed a few buttons. ‘There, done. Anyway, how have you been?’
‘Carrying on as usual. Working. Getting used to the apartment being quieter and a lot less messy. Wishing it could be noisier and messier.’ He paused. ‘The Australia trip’s been rescheduled for the end of November. How about you?’
‘Same, I guess. Being here has been good for me. Spending time with the kids has kept me busy. And I’m still keeping the business running, obviously. But Tonia’s hiring a full-time nanny to take over when she goes back to work. As soon as that happens, I’ll be heading home.’
Jamie looked at her, taking in her pronounced cheekbones and thin arms. ‘You’ve lost weight.’
‘I know. It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t feel like eating for a while, but it’s getting better now.’ She smiled. ‘I’m loving the bitterballen here and the stroopwafels. They’ll have me back to normal in no time.’
‘Good.’ He nodded, reassured. ‘And the sleeping?’
‘That’s better as well. How about you?’
‘Not too bad.’
‘What’s wrong? What are you looking at?’
Jamie shook his head. Behind her, a middle-aged woman had been holding up her phone, pretending to take selfies but actually taking photos of him.
The flash had gone off over a dozen times.
When Fen twisted round and saw what was going on, she said, ‘Come on, why don’t we finish our drinks and get out of here? It’s too nice to stay inside anyway.’
How he appreciated her not making a fuss.
He put down his lager, still half full. If he wasn’t drinking, he couldn’t spill it again. ‘Good idea. Let’s go.’
Fen felt herself relaxing as soon as they were outside. The woman in the hotel had done them a favour. It was a magical evening, the air was still and unseasonably warm, and as they crossed the bridge, the sun, now setting low in the sky, turned the west-facing canal into a ribbon of gold.
It was also easier to chat walking along together side by side.
She told Jamie all about Disa’s argument with a garden designer who had the temerity to think his ideas were better than hers, and about the hapless car showroom manager who, when Disa had expressed interest in a top-of-the-range sports car, had said jovially, ‘And is your husband OK with you spending this much money on a new runaround?’
Jamie whistled. ‘I’d love to have been there. What did Disa say?’
‘She told the guy she’d have to dig up her husband first, but then he’d say it was her own money, so what the hell business was it of his anyway?’
‘I’d expect no less. And did she buy the car?’
‘Of course not. She told him he was a silly boy who’d made a mistake he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, and left. Went to another showroom and bought herself a bright red AMG instead.’
‘Good for her,’ said Jamie.
‘She was so devastated after Declan died, I love that she’s able to joke about him like that now.
’ Fen couldn’t imagine being able to do it herself about Leon, but that was the thing about the passing of time; gradually scenarios that felt completely impossible became possible after all.
Closing her fingers around the wrought-iron railings on the bridge, she watched as a narrowboat emerged from beneath it, and hastily changed the subject before she could get emotional.
‘And how are things with you and Sadie? All good?’
At her side, Jamie shrugged. ‘You know.’
‘What does that mean?’ She glanced at him. ‘You’re still seeing each other, aren’t you?’
‘Kind of. She’s busy with work, and so am I. We occasionally meet up.’
‘Wow, so romantic.’
He looked sideways at her for a moment before returning his attention to the next canal boat, this one full of camera-wielding tourists.
They began to walk again, kicking through fallen leaves. Fen said, ‘Wouldn’t it be better to be on your own?’
‘Maybe.’ His expression was inscrutable.
Next moment there was a whispery whoosh of tyres on tarmac and the high-pitched ringing of a bicycle bell. An arm shot round Fen’s waist, whisking her back onto the pavement as a bearded man shot past on his bike, shaking his head at her stupidity.
‘Oh God, I’m such an idiot.’ Gasping for breath, Fen ricocheted off Jamie’s chest and had to clutch at his other arm for support, before regaining her balance and leaping back. ‘You’d think I’d be used to silent bicycles by now, but they still catch me out.’
What she kept to herself was that it had just happened again, the electric zing of adrenalin in response to the unexpected physical contact with him.
It was the same zing as before, and she’d never wanted to experience it again.
A vision of Leon shaking his head in pained resignation leapt into her brain, and she felt herself grow hot with shame.
Stop it, stop it, for heaven’s sake get a grip.
‘There’s a café down by the Vondelpark that does the best almond cakes.’ To divert her own attention, and this time remembering to look both ways, Fen set off across the road at top speed. ‘I want to take some back for Tonia and Hendrik. You have to try them, they’re out of this world.’
‘If you insist,’ said Jamie. ‘I’ve never met an almond cake I didn’t like.’
An hour later, they were still in the park, having watched earlier from their vantage point on a bench by the lake as the sun had finally disappeared and the sky had grown dark.
Again, sitting beside Jamie was easier than facing him.
As they chatted, they drank their takeaway coffees and finished the last slice of cake between them.
‘Definitely the best.’ Jamie licked his fingers, crumpled the paper bag into a tight ball and lobbed it with a rugby player’s accuracy into the nearby bin.
They’d had two and a half slices each, all that had been left in the café.