Chapter 14
S he hadn’t come to Amsterdam looking for a relationship, but hearing this about Max was definitely stirring something within her heart and it felt a lot like jealousy.
What’s more, the pain at being referred to so coldly was definitely out of proportion with what she should be feeling for her grumpy neighbour.
The other man, Dan, continued. ‘I just thought she seemed nice, and you looked happy for the first time in ages. It’s been a long time since I saw you smile like that.’
‘It’s been a long time since you saw me.’
An awkward silence descended. The music in the background seemed to fade and Rosie continued to listen, hoping to hear Max say something nice about her. Something to undo the cold comments he’d made moments before.
A moment later, he seemed to calm and she chanced another glance. His hands rested on his hips, then he pushed one through his hair. ‘I’m sorry, Dan. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.’
‘It’s okay,’ his friend said. ‘I know how difficult it was when...’ He didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. Rosie knew what he was going to say, when Johanna left. Instead, Dan changed the subject. ‘So how long is she staying?’
‘Permanently, I think. But she’s only just moved here. That’s why I’m showing her the sights. She’s just a... friend. Just a neighbour.’
Another twist of the knife. She shouldn’t care that he only thought of her as a friend or neighbour.
She’d been pretty sure that’s what he thought of her anyway.
They’d only known each other a few weeks and it had been clear from the start she was more attracted to him than he was to her.
But hearing him saying it so starkly when she’d begun to think he was thawing towards her, maybe even liking her a little, felt almost insulting.
‘We should have a beer sometime,’ Dan said, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Yes, I’d like that. I’ll call.’
‘Okay, good. But until then, maybe you should think about being more than friends with that English girl. A smile like that normally only means one thing.’
‘That’s one thing I’m never going back to.’
‘You can’t swear off love forever,’ Dan joked.
‘Watch me,’ Max replied grimly, his grumpy, closed-off demeanour firmly back in place.
Rosie bit her lip and spun back around, edging back a few paces.
For the want of something to do, she ran her fingers through her newly trimmed, short pixie crop, tucking the fine flyaway hairs behind her ears.
All the while, she told herself that what she’d just heard didn’t change anything.
Max hadn’t shown any real inclination towards her, except for the Mr Darcy hand-holding, so it didn’t change anything.
There was nothing to change. Yet she couldn’t shake the thought that this Johanna was responsible for Max’s insularity.
He’d clearly closed down his life to new people and she was pretty sure this woman was the cause.
‘There you are,’ Max said when he rounded the corner of the tent and spotted her.
‘I was just coming to find you,’ She forced a bright smile onto her face.
‘Sorry, I got held up. Are you okay?’
‘Fine,’ she replied, smiling wider to prove it. He stared at her. She clearly looked manic.
‘Are you sure?’
How could he tell? Given everything she’d just heard, that he could read her so well shouldn’t affect her the way it did. ‘So where to next?’
‘Time for a dance?’
That was not what she’d been expecting. Hearing his voice and seeing his face as he spoke to Dan, she’d been convinced he’d want to leave as soon as possible.
‘You dance?’ The shock was clearly evident in her voice and on her face.
‘You haven’t seen anything yet.’
They edged into the nearest tent, the music pounding in her body as soon as she drew close.
Though feeling self-conscious, she began dancing.
Her movements were gentle at first, rocking from side to side.
Then she began to move her feet, watching Max do the same and smiling.
To her surprise, Max was the first to start dancing with real freedom, enjoying the rhythm of the music.
She copied, letting all thoughts and worries leave her mind, and they danced the afternoon away, growing closer, the flirty Max of earlier coming to the surface again, before others would force them apart.
She loved seeing this side of him. It was proof to her that underneath his harsh exterior there was someone fun-loving trying to get out.
Again, her mind flew to this Johanna person, and what might have happened between her and Max, surer than ever that she was responsible.
Every time they separated, she felt herself drawn towards him, and she was sure Max felt the same pull towards her.
But then her mind would go to the words he’d said and to the mysterious ex who was still clearly in his heart, and she would pull back.
When the set ended, despite everything, Rosie felt a rush of disappointment, compounded further when Max said: ‘We should head back. I don’t like leaving Zoon for too long. ’
‘Of course.’
‘You can always stay if you like. I don’t mind heading back on my own.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s been wonderful to see but I’m up early tomorrow for the market, so...’
‘Shall we get something for dinner?’ he asked, his voice rising a little with hope. Her heart gave a double beat. ‘That’s if you can manage anything else.’
‘Of course I can! I can always manage more food.’
He smiled, warm and wide, and they decided on a curry to take away and share when they got back to the boat.
The walk back was punctuated by longer, lengthier silences than the stroll they’d taken in.
Something had shifted again in Max’s mood and though he’d tried to hide, the ghost of Johanna was obviously still haunting his thoughts.
Rosie wanted to ask him about it, be her normal direct self and find out what she wanted to know, but that approach wasn’t going to work with Max.
Not ever. He was the type to talk about things when he was ready.
Asking about her would also make clear Rosie had overheard his conversation– every word– and she didn’t want his pity, his awkward apologies and excuses for being so brutal about the state of their relationship– their friendship, she glumly corrected herself.
They decided to have dinner on her boat rather than his, sitting on the deck in the evening sunshine, as the sun turned the sky a deep, rich orange.
Clouds, tinged with grey and mauve, were beginning to gather and the air felt hot and heavy, as if a storm was brewing.
The night carried that feeling of electricity that always came before thunder, but perhaps that was just her feeling on edge.
Max had let Zoon out and after a run around the deck and up and down the street, he’d settled in the shade on Rosie’s boat.
‘I would need sunglasses to live on your boat.’
‘What?’ She laughed and turned, following his gaze inside to the colourful throws, cushions and decorations she’d added. ‘It’s nice. Don’t you like colour?’
‘On canvas. And you need to varnish the deck,’ Max said after taking a sip of beer.
‘All right, all right! Sorry, I didn’t realise you were a trained interior designer, and the deck’s on my to-do list. I’m hoping to get it done one evening this week.’
‘You must definitely do it before autumn. Piet should have taken much better care of this boat.’
‘Well, he didn’t so that’s that. The Forget-Me-Knot ’s got me now, and I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.’
‘Always with the cheerfulness.’
‘Yes,’ she replied, laughing. ‘What else should I do?’
‘Some people don’t find it as easy to climb out of a bad mood.’
‘No?’
This was the first time he’d ever mentioned his feelings and she didn’t want to put him off.
‘Sometimes...’ He didn’t continue and Rosie waited, her breath stuck in her lungs, unable to let it out for fear any noise would frighten him back into silence.
He took a deep pull on his beer and tried again.
‘Sometimes it’s like trying to climb out of a dark hole or wade through mud.
It can seem like almost too much effort to pull yourself out. ’
She’d felt like that after her mum had died, but she hadn’t been able to say anything to Melody or her dad, wanting to be strong for them, knowing that they were all suffering and that her grief– her feelings– were no less severe than theirs.
Her dad had encouraged her to talk about it, but she’d always found it difficult, not wanting to burden anyone else.
She shifted in her chair and Max seemed to sense the change in her.
He was watching her but didn’t push her to respond.
For the first time Rosie found that she wanted to.
‘Grief gets you like that. Are you grieving someone... or... something?’
‘I suppose I am in a way.’
Would he mention Johanna? Her muscles tightened.
‘I think I’m mourning my career.’
‘Your career?’ Surprised again, she couldn’t help but glance around at the covered canvases and paintings. ‘But I thought—’
‘Being an artist is not the same as being a successful artist. I know I mentioned it before but—’ He took a deep breath. ‘That creative block I’ve had... it’s been there for a while now. It often seems too hard to get over.’
‘I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like. How does it feel?’
‘Imagine if I told you that you couldn’t ever be cheerful again. You couldn’t ever look on the bright side. Painting is in my nature. Not painting feels like fighting who I am, but no matter how much I want to do it, I stare at the canvas, and nothing happens.’
‘What about the painting I saw?’ She pointed to where it had stood on his deck.
‘An old one. I’d been trying to add to it, hoping it would help me, but it didn’t. Every time I look at it, I feel nothing but sadness that it isn’t good enough.’
‘Good enough for what?’
‘For me, for a gallery, for someone to spend their hard-earned money on.’