Chapter 28
A few days later, Rosie placed a poster for the floating flower market festival in the window of the Forget-Me-Knot .
They’d had a number printed up and everyone was placing them around the city.
Fenna’s daughter had come through in her graphic design job and had illustrated the most gorgeous advertisement; the line drawing of the canal and flower stalls was like a work of art on its own.
With Finn’s funds they’d been able to get both larger posters and smaller flyers printed.
Bas was delivering a huge number for them on his daily rounds of the city and had even asked some of his colleagues who worked different routes to do the same.
Excitement bubbled in Rosie’s stomach like a bath bomb fizzing in a tub of hot water.
They were certainly getting the word out and they couldn’t do much more than that.
All she co uld do was hope that people liked the idea enough to turn up.
As her attention had been so focused on making sure the poster was square, she hadn’t noticed Max until he stopped opposite her, Zoon at his heels.
He bent down, peering in through the window and smiling at her.
Now they were on speaking terms again– albeit strange, uneasy ones because she still didn’t know what to do with all the information he’d given her– she waved back.
She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the news that Max and Johanna weren’t in fact an item.
Standing under the stars and a bright, glorious moon, the attraction between them had been as fierce as ever.
His eyes had swept over her hungrily, she was sure, and he’d been honest with her about his work, no longer pushing her away.
There’d been so much more to say, though, and neither of them had had the courage to voice it.
Trepidation slowed her movements, but leaving the poster, she edged off the tiny sofa and made her way outside.
Her summer in Amsterdam had been amazing and the sun was once again shining brightly.
She couldn’t help but feel happy under the aquamarine sky, feeling the warmth on her face and the gentle rocking of her boat on the water.
The ducks were floating past, quacking to one another, and the Forget-Me-Knot felt more like a home than anywhere she’d ever been as an adult.
Rosie made yet another silent prayer the festival would be a success.
‘What’s this?’ Max asked, pointing to the poster as Rosie m et him on the pavement.
Zoon raced away, the lead tearing from Max’s hand.
‘Zoon! Come here!’ But the dog had no intention of coming back.
Instead he ran onto Rosie’s boat and into the galley, jumping up onto the sofa and curling into a ball, eagerly preparing for a nap.
‘Long walk, was it?’ Rosie asked, grinning at the dog.
‘Not really– he’s just very, very lazy.’
A heavy silence descended as she smiled at the dog, aware of Max’s eyes on her.
‘So?’ he asked, his voice gruff, the word loaded. ‘The poster?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She snapped her head towards it as if she needed to jog her memory. She’d been too busy thinking about Max and his gorgeous eyes. Eyes that were watching her so intently she could feel them like pinpricks over her skin. She cleared her throat and told him everything about the plan.
‘You came up with this idea?’
‘Yeah, along with a few others. Finn’s been really helpful.’
‘Evil Finn?’
She laughed. ‘He’s not evil. He was just... misunderstood.’
‘Like Darth Vader?’
‘I think he was actually evil. He killed a lot of people. Finn’s just been a bit grumpy because of some personal problems.’ She wasn’t going to say any more; it wasn’t her place to. ‘And anyway, he’s trying to make it up to everyone now.’
‘It’s a brilliant idea. I should have known you’d come up with something.’
‘It wasn’t easy,’ she added, remembering his barbs about her finding it easy to be positive.
‘I know,’ he replied, dropping his eyes, and she softened towards him at the evident regret on his face.
‘I think for a while, I felt how you did. I couldn’t find the positives in anything and it didn’t even feel worth trying.
I haven’t felt like that in a long time, not since Mum died.
But I’m glad I managed to pick myself up.
I was lucky to have people around me to help.
’ Max looked towards Zoon, avoiding her gaze, and she realised the impact of her words.
Her friends had helped her, but at the time Max had pulled away.
She hadn’t meant to make him feel uncomfortable or to punish him. ‘Max, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
‘It’s okay, Rosie. You’re right. I should have been there to help you and I wasn’t.’
Stunned into silence, she couldn’t think of what to say. She’d assumed he’d excuse himself from the conversation and disappear– push her away as he had before.
‘I’m sorry.’ She didn’t know what to say and when a response wasn’t forthcoming, he said, ‘I’d better let you get on. Shall I . . .’ He pointed to Zoon, asleep on her sofa.
‘Yeah, sorry, I need to go to work, otherwise you could leave him.’
‘No problem. May I—’
‘Of course.’
He stepped inside and the way he gently lifted the dog as if it were a precious newborn baby made her heart thump in her chest. Not only that, her eyes were drawn to the tension in his biceps, the way his T-shirt pressed against his skin and tightened over his chest. Rosie chewed the inside of her cheek.
Whatever was happening with them, her attraction to him was as strong as ever.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he said as he squeezed through the door and walked back to his boat.
‘Yeah, see you later.’ Thank goodness he was leaving. Any more of that and she’d need a cold shower before she left for work.
***
The flower market buzzed with its usual busyness, but Rosie was sure there was an extra excitement in the air.
There were more people than usual dancing around the stalls, and everyone was talking about the festival and what they were planning to do.
Word was spreading, and even customers were beginning to ask questions about it. That had to be a good sign.
Emma, who had offered to dive out and get them some lunch as her colleague was working that day, arrived at Rosie’s stall.
Most of the flowers she’d ordered had already gone and she was just making a couple of smaller bouquets, hoping to use up some of the slightly older ones that would be past their best if she didn’t get rid of them soon.
It still astounded her how difficult it was to predict which flowers would be popular and when.
Though she hoped that if she could stay here long enough, she’d see a pattern emerge.
‘So how’s things with Noah?’ Rosie asked. It was a standard question now.
‘I think I’m moving in the right direction, but he still hasn’t asked me out on an actual date and I’m too afraid to do it in case I scare him off again.’
‘Well, I have no useful advice. My love life is pretty dire so I don’t think I’m in a position to help.’
‘What’s happening with Max? Have you seen him since the gallery?’
Rosie had already told her about the evening he’d set the record straight: the way he’d chased after her after she’d left and the bombshell he’d delivered about his still-single status.
‘He’s not been around. I don’t know if that’s on purpose or by accident, but we just haven’t run into each other.
He’s out most evenings when I’ve sat on the deck.
’ She unwrapped the paper from the soft bun and studied it. ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s broodje haring .’
‘Right. And that is...?’
‘Raw herring, sliced gherkins and chopped onions in a soft bread bun.’
‘Raw herring?’ Rosie asked, her mouth turning down in distaste.
‘Don’t knock it till you try it. You like sushi, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but... I don’t know. This just seems a bit... weirder.’ Emma snorted a laugh. ‘No offence.’
‘None taken.’ Emma took a massive bite of hers and through a half-chewed mouthful mumbled, ‘It’s actually yummy.’
‘Okay.’ Rosie squared her shoulders, sizing up her sandwich, and took a bite. The fish tasted surprisingly mild and paired nicely with the pickle flavour of the gherkins and the sweet tang of the onions. ‘Hmm,’ she said, as she chewed. ‘That’s actually all right.’
‘It’s delicious.’
‘Not sure I’d go that far but...’
‘See, you’re a proper Amsterdammer now.’
‘Am I? Do I get a badge?’
‘No, but you get to stay.’
‘I hope so,’ Rosie replied, the comment grounding her back in reality.
‘Me too,’ Emma added, leaning into her shoulder.
As they munched through lunch, they spoke about the festival plans and agreed to have a drink after work.
They’d toyed with the idea of inviting Noah and the gang, but both women wanted some time to chat, and agreed that for now, it would just be them.
If anyone else spotted them and asked to come along, they’d make room.
Rosie was just wiping her mouth on a napkin, when Emma nudged her furiously.
‘Look! Look!’
‘Ow! That hurt! What is it?’ Rosie, who’d had her back to the market, spun around to see Max making his way through the crowd. ‘Oh!’
‘I’d better leave you two alone,’ Emma said. She winked at Rosie as she greeted Max with a quick hello.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rosie asked, then corrected herself so she didn’t sound rude. ‘I mean, hi! I didn’t expect to see you around here. Today.’
‘Have you got a minute to talk?’
‘Yeah, sure. It’s not very busy right now.’ As they stood together in her tiny pitch, it suddenly seemed smaller than ever. The energy that bounced between them was like a gravitational pull, and fighting it took all her energy. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s this festival you’re doing. I—’ He pushed his hand into his hair and shifted his weight. ‘I want to donate some paintings.’
‘You...?’
‘Want to donate some paintings. You can sell them and put the profits towards the fund to help people. I want to help. I . . .’ He hesitated, and the seconds Rosie had to wait felt like decades. ‘I want to help you.’
‘Max, that’s– I don’t know what to say. Thank you, that’s... that’s amazing. How much did the one in the gallery go for?’
‘Three thousand euros.’
‘Three thousand euros? Really?’ Rosie’s mouth fell open and Max grinned.
‘I don’t imagine the ones I donate here will go for that much, but if they’re sold for a hundred euros, that’ll still be worthwhile.’
‘Max, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.
’ She leaned onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
His hand went to her waist and, feeling her lips press his skin, the tiny hairs of his beard brush against her cheek, her stomach roiled with longing.
As she pulled away, his eyes roved down to her lips, and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
She was sure he wanted it too, but then he stepped back and away from her, a slight flush to his cheeks appearing over his beard.
‘Shall I bring them here tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ She adjusted the 1940s headscarf tied over her short hair. ‘That’d be great.’
‘And if there’s anything else I can do, let me know, okay?’
‘Sure.’
He walked away, but after a few steps, paused and looked back at her. ‘I’m in awe of you, you know. The way you’ve handled everything, the way you keep pushing forwards. I wish I could be more like that.’
‘You just have to keep trying,’ she replied gently.
‘It isn’t always easy, I know. But...
’ Her heart seemed to swell to three times its normal size.
She knew this version of Max was in there; she just wished he had trusted her enough from the start to show it.
Could she ever forgive him for pushing her away so coldly?
‘I think that might be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. ’
‘Your mum would be very proud of you.’
A lump formed in her throat. ‘Did you know I’ve finally thought of a name for my business? If I can keep it, that is.’
‘Yeah, what’s that?’ His smile was wide, lighting his entire face.
‘Linny’s Garden. After her– my mum.’
‘It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.’ He stayed watching her for a moment and she fought the urge to reach out for him. To try and hold his hand. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he replied, his voice unusually tight as though he were pushing down emotions. But which ones?
Rosie knew what she was feeling. The anger and frustration that had burned her before had faded, and now she just felt desperately sorry for him, wishing she could give him the confidence in his work he needed.
But what was Max feeling? He still seemed to be attracted to her and as Johanna wasn’t actually in the picture, they could restart their relationship.
Was that what she wanted? The fizzing in her blood and the tightening of her ribs told her it was.
And though she’d always been happy to ask guys out, she wasn’t sure she could do that with Max.
Not now. And what would be the point if she was going to leave soon anyway?
If the festival wasn’t a success, she had no choice but to leave, and restarting a relationship just to hurt each other a second time seemed pointless.
Masochistic even. Yet her heart ached to be with Max for as long as possible up to that point.
A customer came forward, interrupting her thoughts, and she pasted on a smile, encouraging a discussion about irises just to take her mind off her brooding artist neighbour and the aching deep in her soul that kept pulling her back to him.