Chapter 22
R osie returned home, walking the red-brick streets, watching the birds and ducks bob on the waters of the canals.
Bikes whizzed past, the smell of traditional Dutch apple cake wafted strongly from one particular bakery and Rosie took a deep breath, the scent of cinnamon calming her nerves.
She wasn’t even hungry, which showed how stressed she was, but she did quite fancy another of those tompouce she’d had on her first day.
It seemed a long time ago now. How could it only have been a month?
So much had happened in that time, it made her head spin.
As she came back to the Forget-Me-Knot , seeing for the first time all the things that needed fixing on the cute little houseboat, a flash of her normal optimism came back.
If she had enough time, she could turn the Forget-Me-Knot into the most beautiful houseboat on the canal.
She could even sell flowers from it. That would be her first shop.
Her flower pots were beginning to bloom, and once the deck and galley were varnished, it would look magnificent.
Maybe one day she’d even have a gorgeous mural painted on the side of a giant forget-me-not, the pretty, delicate blue flower with a bright yellow centre shining out at the world.
But her positivity soon vanished. After today, she’d be lucky if she was still here at the end of the summer.
Max was approaching his boat, having just taken Zoon out for a walk, and Rosie felt her breath hitch as she spotted him.
She turned away, unsure what to do. Should she smile?
Be angry with him for pushing her away? No matter how much she wanted to be, he was hurting and if their roles had been reversed she may have felt the same.
She’d probably lash out too and the sign of a good friend was one who stuck around, even in those difficult moments.
Max too seemed unsure what to do and glanced at her before unclipping Zoon’s lead and shooing him onto his boat.
The tiny dog refused to do as he was told and instead headed straight for Rosie, jumping up at her, his tail wagging enthusiastically.
She ruffled the hair behind his ears and then bent down and pushed her fingers into his wiry hair.
‘Hey,’ Max said, coming closer. ‘How’re— You’ve been crying.’ Shock registered in his voice and guilt flashed across his features. ‘Rosie, I...’
She waited, hoping to hear an apology for why he’d pushed her away when he could have leaned on her for support. But his words floundered and silence filled the air. Her pride drew her up. She didn’t want him to think she’d been crying over him, even though she had.
‘It’s the boat,’ she said firmly, making her point. ‘It needs a ton of repairs and I can’t afford them. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
Tears threatened again and she forced her gaze back to Zoon, who still stood on his hind legs, his front paws pressed into her thighs, waiting for a fuss.
‘I’m sorry to hear it. What did Piet say?’
She went over her conversation with him and added, ‘I’m going to go and see the city council tomorrow.
Try and work out a schedule of works that might buy me some more time.
’ She wanted his help and to have him by her side when she pleaded her case.
‘Do you think you could come with me? To help me translate?’
‘Rosie, I—’ He took a step backwards. ‘I’m sorry, I already have plans. Can you ask—’
‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly, heat racing up her neck into her cheeks. Gently, she pushed Zoon back down and away from her. ‘No worries.’
‘I’m sure—’
‘Goodnight, Max.’ She walked past him and onto the deck of the Forget-Me-Knot .
‘Zoon, come,’ Max commanded, his words underpinned by a note of sorrow. With a glance at Rosie, Zoon did as he was told.
If Max was planning to say anything else, Rosie didn’t give him the chance.
She’d held out an olive branch and he’d batted it back to her with such force she was surprised it hadn’t hit her in the face.
Whatever had started between them was obviously over and she wasn’t going to wait around for any more pitying remarks.
Without looking back at him, she opened the galley door and disappeared inside, closing it firmly behind her.
***
Rosie was able to rope Emma in to coming with her to the council offices.
Emma had organised her assistant to cover at the deli, but Rosie had no option but to open late.
It wasn’t ideal. She couldn’t really afford to lose business, especially at the moment, but she didn’t have any other option.
As they began to leave the deli, Rosie was surprised to hear Finn calling her name.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked as she and Emma passed him.
‘Yes, of course. Actually not really, but that’s a whole other story. What can I do for you?’
‘I just noticed you were . . .’ Finn glanced back at her small pitch all closed up.
‘Yeah, I need to go somewhere.’
‘But you’ll lose money.’ She was surprised at his genuine level of concern.
She shrugged. ‘Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. Something’s come up and I need to deal with it now.’
‘Would you...’ He hesitated. ‘Would you like me and my guys to keep an eye on things? We can always serve people for you? I have enough staff on today. If that’d help?’
Rosie didn’t know what to say and opened and closed her mouth without making any noise, which made the hesitant Finn positively alarmed. She told herself to get a grip. ‘That’s so kind of you, Finn. Are you sure?’
‘Of course. It’s the least I can do after you helped me the other day.’
Rosie fished in her bag and handed over her keys. ‘Here.’
‘You don’t want to do that yourself?’ Finn asked.
‘No, it’s fine. I trust you. And I really need to get going. I’ve got a meeting with the city council and I’m told they don’t like to be kept waiting.’
Finn took the keys, wishing her well, and she and Emma made their escape.
Rosie noticed Noah glancing at them as they left, his eyes lingering on Emma for as long as possible.
There was still hope there for her friend, she was sure.
Emma’s disastrous flirting attempts might have stalled her progress but they hadn’t stopped it altogether.
Rosie just wished that hope still existed for her and Max.
He would have to be pushed to the back of her mind while she dealt with the most pressing problem: the boat.
‘What’s the plan?’ Emma asked as they approached the city council offices.
‘Beg and plead without self-respect or dignity until they help me out?’
Emma giggled. ‘Let’s just see how it goes, shall we? I can be quite charming when I need to be.’
‘Just don’t try and flirt, okay?’ Rosie asked with a gentle, teasing shove.
‘Hey! I’m getting better at it, actually. I’ll have you know I had a whole conversation with Noah yesterday and I didn’t even try to flirt once.’
Maybe that explained why things seemed to have improved.
They entered the city council offices and anxiety settled in Rosie’s limbs, weighing them down, slowing her movements.
Her chest felt too heavy to breathe properly and her legs didn’t want to climb the stairs to the correct department.
Eventually, she was called forward to a man at a desk and Rosie began speaking.
When it was clear he knew some English but was struggling to keep up with Rosie’s rushed, worried speech, Emma took over.
Rosie watched as the conversation flowed back and forth, Emma pointing at various sections of the notice Piet had left with her, and the council man doing the same.
Emma occasionally paused to ask Rosie a question, or translate and then provide her answer.
As the meeting progressed, the council man seemed to get more and more frustrated with her as the conversation went on.
The tension in Rosie’s shoulders and neck was vice-like.
After half an hour of intense discussion between the three of them, some in English, some in Dutch, Emma turned to Rosie and Rosie’s heart sank at her expression.
‘I’m sorry, Rosie. It seems there isn’t much room at all. According to Mr Classen they’d already given Piet several warnings before this. Which he ignored. They can’t give any more time. I’m so sorry.’
Determined not to cry in front of this total stranger, Rosie nodded to Mr Classen and thanked him for his time.
‘What will you do now?’ Emma asked as they stepped back into the light of the warm, summery day.
‘I don’t know, but we better get back to the flower market or I won’t have any money to do anything with.’
‘It was nice of Finn to keep an eye on the place for you.’
‘It was, wasn’t it? Seems he’s not that bad, after all.’
‘I think it’s you,’ Emma replied, catching her off guard. ‘I think you bring out the best in people and bring them together. The community at the flower market is much nicer now.’
An idea buzzed somewhere inside Rosie’s head. Something about the word ‘community’ sparked the beginnings of a nebulous concept, but then it faded as she avoided a cyclist who, for once, wasn’t very friendly at all.
He shouted something in Dutch, waving one fist so violently he wobbled and nearly fell from his bike.
‘Sorry! Sorry!’ Rosie shouted after him.
He said something else and Emma began laughing. ‘He just called you a potato.’
‘A potato! Why would he call me that? Is it some weird Dutch insult?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Do you think I look like a potato?’ Rosie asked worriedly. She had worn a cream top and a long cream skirt today.
‘No! He was an idiot– just ignore him.’
‘Maybe you should teach me some Dutch swear words so I can swear back.’
‘I’d love to!’ Emma squeezed her arm as they walked along.
As they continued towards the Bloemenmarkt , the niggling in Rosie’s mind remained.
Something about community and bringing out the best in people reminded her of the Milkshake Festival she’d been to.
The memory of Max dancing and the time they’d enjoyed bit at her, but it was the feel of the place that was sparking something. If only she could identify what.
‘Is that Max?’ Emma asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Rosie followed the line of her finger and sure enough Max was walking into a café with a beautiful woman on his arm. Her long dark hair glimmered with shades of coffee and chestnut and her beautifully tailored clothes (which screamed designer label) hugged her body like they’d been made to measure.
Max had opened the door for her and as she walked through, he followed, placing his hand gently on the small of her back.
He’d done that with Rosie and it sent shockwaves through her nerve endings.
She could almost hear as well as feel the physical ripping of her heart as it tore into pieces.
Max was smiling and something lit his eyes the same way it had when he’d been painting.
Rosie bit the inside of her lip. She had no idea who the woman was, but it was clear they were enjoying each other’s company.
‘Maybe they’re just friends,’ Emma added. Rosie made no reply. Her throat had stuck together and her body had forgotten how to breathe. A sharp ringing pierced her ears. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’ Emma gently tugged on her arm, leading her away. ‘Let’s get back to the Bloemenmarkt .’
Though Rosie didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder to see them looking dreamily at each other over coffee cups, the woman reaching across the table towards Max and his hand reaching out for hers in return.