by Karen Swan
She opened the fridge. ‘I still can’t believe you’re going to be in it. It’s unreal.’
‘I know.’ His eyes were shining brightly, almost feverish.
‘Jasper wants you to wear bright colours so he can always see you on the screen. We’re going to be screaming at the television.’
‘Well, actually – that’s why I came over.’ He reached for her hand, catching her as she passed by with the milk and drawing her closer to him. Their bodies pressed together as he looked down at her. ‘I was wondering if you’d both come along and be there, to cheer me on in person.’
Her mouth opened. ‘But—’
‘It’d mean everything to me.’
She stared at him, excuses reflexively flooding her mind. ‘But where would we stay? Every hotel and room in the region will be booked already. The country’s gone nuts.’
‘Stay with me. At my parents’ farm. They live near Leeuwarden. And don’t worry, you wouldn’t be in a room with me,’ he said quickly, anticipating her every protest. He glanced at Jasper, still engrossed on the floor. ‘For one thing, I need to get the sleep.’ He kissed her hand, locking eyes with her and making her stomach somersault, just like that. ‘But there’s plenty of room. You and Jasper could be in one together so he wouldn’t be alone in a strange house.’
Lee stared at him, hardly able to believe he had nailed her primary objection on the head.
‘Well . . . oh God . . .’ Her mind raced, trying to think of logistics, obstacles . . . ‘We can’t come today,’ she said. ‘We’re going over to see Pabe this afternoon and decorate his Christmas tree, and then my friend Mils is coming over later.’ She didn’t add that she was getting her ready for going on a date with his good friend Liam. Mila had rung her in a flutter when Liam had kept his end of the bargain and called her mid-morning, asking her to ‘help him out’ tonight.
‘That’s fine. Come tomorrow. But just be warned, the journey will be horrendous. The entire country’s going to be on the roads.’
She bit her lip, hardly able to believe this was happening. This was practically a mini-break, she was going to be meeting his family. It was everything she should be running away from. And yet she wasn’t. She didn’t want to run.
‘So do you want to tell him or shall I?’ Sam asked, seeing the emotions running – unspoken – over her face.
‘You can, seeing as you’ve become his hero overnight.’
Quite literally, she thought, watching as Sam went over to Jasper. God help them all if he found out Sam was also Sinterklaas. She felt another frisson of fear as she watched them together, heads bent, eye contact held. They were so easy together. So natural . . . But what if . . .?
‘Jasper, what would you say to you and your mama coming out to Friesland to support me in the Elfstedentocht? I think it would really make a big difference to my performance if I knew I had the two of you there, cheering me on. Then I could wave to you as I passed.’
Jasper’s mouth opened like a drawbridge. He would be waved to? By an actual racer? He looked straight at her. ‘Can we, mama?’
Lee smiled. ‘Well, I think we can guarantee kindergarten will be closed on Monday’ – along with every other business in the country; official or not, this was going to count as a national holiday – ‘so I don’t see why not.’
She watched as Jasper threw his arms around Sam’s neck. ‘I’m going to make you a banner so you can see where I am.’
‘That sounds perfect. Then it really will be my dream come true.’
‘Mine too!’ Jasper cheered.
They both looked back at her and she smiled. Mine too, she said – but only in her head.
‘Pabe, does that look straight to you?’ she asked, standing on tiptoes as she held the top of the tree, its bristles tickling under her arm.
‘A little more to the right,’ he said from his spot in the armchair. ‘Yes, that’s better.’
‘Right, Jazzy,’ she said, peering down through the fronds at her son kneeling on the floor, ready for action. ‘If you screw in the bolts, all the way until you feel them touch the tree trunk, okay?’
‘You won’t drop the tree on my head?’
She grinned. ‘I promise I won’t drop the tree on your head.’
She watched as Jasper shuffled in on his tummy, just his little legs and feet appearing from the tree’s skirt at the bottom. ‘So Pabe, what do you think of the news? Exciting, huh?’
‘The whole country’s gone mad,’ he said with a watery-eyed smile. ‘I never thought I’d live to see another one, that’s for sure.’
‘We’re going to watch it,’ Jasper shouted from under the tree. ‘Sam’s racing in it.’
‘Sam?’ Pabe looked at her.
‘A friend of ours. He’s been waiting his whole life for it to be put on. His father raced in the last one in ’97.’
‘Oh, what was his name? Perhaps I will remember?’
‘Well, I don’t know his first name, but their surname is Meyer.’
‘Meyer?’ Pabe repeated. ‘Evert Meyer?’
Lee shrugged. ‘Maybe. You remember him?’
‘Of course, who could forget him? He was a bad-tempered loser. Some people, they care too much.’
Lee frowned.
‘Done it!’ Jasper’s legs wriggled as he tummy-shuffled out from under the tree again and sat up triumphantly, a sprinkle of needles in his hair. He shook himself like a dog, making Pabe laugh. ‘Can we put the decorations on now?’ he asked excitedly and Lee knew he would crash into bed tonight. Everything about today had been lived at a high pitch of frenzy – waking up to find Sam cooking them breakfast, finding the canals skate-ready, the announcement of the iconic Elfstedentocht, decorating yet another Christmas tree . . .
‘In the cupboard under the stairs, did you say?’ Lee asked Pabe, daring to let go of the tree, checking it didn’t topple.
‘Yes. In a cardboard box with red-and-white tape. The bottom shelf, I believe.’
‘Okay. Jazz, if you squirt some water from my water bottle into the base of the tree, just to stop it drying out too quickly. Make sure you don’t get any on the floor. I’ll be right back.’
She went out into the hall and opened the door to the understairs cupboard. She had to duck as she went in, her hands reaching for the light switch. A bare bulb swung from a cable, illuminating gappy floorboards and the detritus of a long life lived within these walls. Leftover rolls of vintage wallpaper, pots of paint, old tins of screws, a papier-mâché pumpkin, a few gilded frames with no paintings in them, boxes, boxes, boxes . . . Her eyes fell to the largest one in the bottom corner, some scraps of ‘fragile’ red-and-white masking tape still on the corners. She squatted down and pulled it out carefully, the cardboard feeling papery and fragile in her grip.
She went to close the understairs door behind her but just then, something came to her ear. She ducked in again, straining to hear what it was. It was distant, and yet also clear. Weeping? Someone was weeping.
She peered down through the gappy floorboards. The insulation was seemingly non-existent and although she couldn’t see any light from below, she could hear sounds really quite easily when she concentrated. Weeping. Whispering.
With a sad sigh, she retreated, not wanting to intrude further. It wasn’t any of her business, the state of play between Gus and Lenka’s relationship, but clearly it was floundering. The tension between them this morning had been evident.
‘Ta-da,’ she exclaimed, setting down the box. Immediately, Jasper pulled out a length of gold tinsel. He had never seen tinsel before. He wrapped it around his neck and pushed out his chest, hands on his hips, like it was a king’s scarf. Lee and Pabe laughed. ‘It suits you,’ Pabe chuckled.
‘Right, well, with Jasper making a start on the decorations – he’s the maestro on that score – I’m going to put those extra meals in the freezer for you, Pabe,’ Lee said. ‘Just take out one each morning and it’ll be defrosted for dinner. And then I’ll bring the logs in. I’ll carr
y in extra to keep you going while we’re away.’
‘Lee, I don’t know what to say,’ Pabe said, the fire crackling beside him, Toetsen purring on the arm of his chair.
‘I keep telling you, there’s nothing to say, Pabe,’ she said, patting his shoulder gently as she went out.
She put the pies into the freezer, leaving one in the fridge, and noticed that the bin was full. She tied the bag handles quickly and lifted it out. ‘I’m just putting the bins out,’ she called through, opening the front door.
The canal scene greeted her again, the first lights beginning to twinkle on the bridges and along the tree branches as dusk began to fall, people still skating, carols still playing. She felt a rush of love for her adopted home as she jogged down the steps and lifted the bin lid, arm upraised to drop the bag straight in.
But she stopped mid-swing, frowning as she caught sight of something in there. It wasn’t sitting loose, on top. But peeking through the opening of the topmost black bin bag – it had simply been scrunched closed rather than knotted – was a passport. She stared at it, feeling perturbed. She knew from her old line of work just how vital a document a passport was. It couldn’t just be tossed out like that. Pabe may well feel his travelling days were behind him, but didn’t he know, at the very least, that it had to be cut in half and rendered wholly unusable?
Her arm dropping down, she reached for it, having to flick off some potato peelings first. She turned to the photo page – and stared at the photograph of the slightly puffy-faced young man who was her neighbour.
Gus?
His hair was longer and lighter in the photograph and he had been heavier-set when this had been taken. He might be older now but seemingly no wiser. Didn’t he know what could happen if this fell into the wrong hands? Identity theft was a modern epidemic in the first world, and as for the places where she used to work . . . it didn’t bear thinking about if a valid European passport ended up in the wrong hands.
Not that she was in that world now, she reminded herself. This was Amsterdam, not Afghanistan. She knew she had to stop leaping to worst-case scenarios; she was the girl next door now. If this wasn’t Pabe’s bin, then this was none of her business.
On the other hand, it was better to be safe than sorry. She slipped the passport into her jeans pocket; at the very least she would cut it up herself.
‘Right, how are we doing?’ she asked, coming back into the living room a few moments later.
Pabe, Jasper and Toetsen all looked back at her. ‘It’s going splendidly,’ Pabe said, his eyes twinkling with unfettered joy.
Lee looked over at the stubby Christmas tree in the corner by the window, upright but fully loaded with baubles in its bottom left corner. Again. She burst out laughing.
‘Do you like it, mama?’ Jasper asked proudly, coming over to her for a hug.
‘My darling,’ she said, bending down to kiss the top of his head. ‘It is absolutely perfect!’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mila was sitting cross-legged on the bed, in her bra and knickers and with gold gel stickers stuck beneath her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this!’
‘I did, sort of. I told you he turned me down.’
‘But you made out he was a loser! Not that he was The One!’
‘Uh-uh!’ Lee almost fell off the bed in protestation. ‘I never said those words. Not once. I have not said he’s The One.’
‘No. But your eyes have!’
Lee quickly shut them. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake. You’re getting carried away again. It’s been a day. One single day, to be precise. Let’s not start planning the bridesmaid dresses just yet, shall we?’
But when she opened her eyes again, Mila was grinning at her like a lunatic. Lee picked up a face wipe and chucked it at her.
‘Lee, don’t you see? The fact that you didn’t have sex that first night didn’t mean nothing had happened – it actually meant a shitload happened between you. Emotionally! It means everything that he walked out on you.’
Lee stared at her, trying to ignore the way her heart thumped at her friend’s words.
‘And then he made you want him by not letting you have him?’ Mila pressed a hand to her heart and almost fell into a swoon. ‘Oh my God, I love him myself.’
‘You are a lost cause, you know that?’ Lee tutted, topping up their champagne glasses; but she was grinning. She couldn’t stop. Jasper was downstairs watching Star Wars, again, before bed.
‘So when are you going to meet the parents?’ Mila asked, taking a big sip.
‘We are incidentally staying at his family home so that we can watch him race. He wouldn’t otherwise be introducing me to his parents – At. This. Point.’ Lee tried to hammer home her point that it was early days. ‘We’ll leave after lunch tomorrow, I guess.’
‘The roads will be terrible.’
‘I know, but that doesn’t matter. We don’t want to get there too early. I don’t want us to be in the way.’
‘Lee, however you want to spin it, he’s introducing you to his family. I don’t think they’re going to be seeing it as you getting in the way.’
Lee bit her lip, feeling another rush of the panic that had been zipping into her mind intermittently all afternoon. ‘But what if they . . .’ She trailed off.
‘What if they what?’
‘What if they . . . you know . . . disapprove.’
There was a pause. ‘You mean because of Jazzy?’ Mila looked at her sternly.
Lee nodded. ‘I mean, I’d understand their position. Would they choose for their son to get involved with a woman like me – someone messed up, and with a kid? It’s not the straightforward Happy Ever After ending, let’s face it. I am not the sort of woman mothers envisage for their sons.’
‘Let me tell you something,’ Mila said emotionally, jabbing her finger towards Lee, champagne sploshing from the glass onto the bed. ‘There is no such thing as the Happy Ever After ending, that is bullshit. You are a living freaking legend and that boy is the most lovable child on the planet. Don’t you tell me that anything about the two of you is somehow . . . flawed. It sounds to me like this Sam knows perfectly well just what a bullseye he’s hit finding you.’
Lee looked back at her friend, wondering how she could be so fierce in her loyalties and yet so ridiculous in her sentimentality. ‘Aw, Mils . . .’
They hugged, both relieved that last night’s tiff had been forgotten already. They were neither of them ones for grudges and Mila had been over here within the hour after her apologizing text – especially because Liam had called, asking her for a favour tonight.
‘Right, well, anyway, back to you,’ Lee said, leaning forward and gently peeling the gels from beneath Mila’s eyes. ‘Oh yes, much better.’ She looked at the little squidgy sachets in her hands.
‘Really?’ Mila asked hopefully.
‘No. Why do you waste your money on these things?’
Mila patted the skin beneath her eyes. ‘I think they feel less puffy.’
Lee grinned. ‘Well, I’m sure Liam will be able to spot the difference. He’s probably got a more involved grooming routine than me.’ She watched Mila from lowered lashes. ‘I still can’t believe you’re going on a date with him.’
‘Well, it’s not a date-date. I mean, we’re just friends. I’m just doing him a favour,’ Mila said earnestly, her eyes wide, biting down nervously on her lower lip.
Lee suppressed a grin as Mila clambered off the bed to double-check her reflection in the bathroom mirror, before beginning to apply her make-up. Lee rolled onto her tummy at the foot of the bed, dangling her feet in the air. ‘Well, he’s lucky you agreed to go at such short notice.’
‘Just as well I had my sabbatical going on really,’ Mila said, glancing at her in the mirror. ‘Or I’d definitely have been out.’
‘Thank heavens.’
‘He says I’m really getting him out of a bind. He’s hoping he’ll get a promotion off the back of this, so I’m goin
g to go out there and charm everyone; be on my A-game and show everyone how amazing he is.’ She applied some eyeshadow to her lids, blending it expertly. ‘Not that he needs me to do that.’
Lee sighed as she watched on, knowing that a smoky eye would be forever beyond her capabilities. ‘Well, take it as an opportunity for yourself too. You never know who you could meet there.’
‘Yeah right – at his boss’s daughter’s eighteenth.’ Mila pulled a face.
Lee laughed. ‘Trust me, it’s going to be better than you think.’
‘How do you know?’
Lee shrugged. ‘Just a feeling.’ She checked the time. ‘He’ll be here any minute, you’d better get a move on. Which shoes did you decide on?’
‘I can’t decide between the black or the petrol blue. Which do you prefer? They’re in the bag.’
Lee reached down over the end of the bed and brought out one of each. ‘You know, I think I like the blue,’ she said after a moment. ‘A bit clashy, a bit funky.’
‘Yeah, that was what I was thinking.’ Mila came back from the bathroom, unhooking her bra and pulling Lee’s unworn olive-green silk dress off its hanger. She wrapped it around herself, adjusting the drapery at the cleavage, smoothing it over her flat tummy.
Lee tossed the petrol blue shoes over to her and watched her friend rise by four inches.
‘So? What do you think?’ Mila asked nervously, biting her lip again.
Lee shifted back onto her feet, clasping her hands to her chest. That dress had super-powers. ‘Oh. My. God. You are a fricking goddess. All the men are going to be falling over themselves tonight.’ Liam too? How could he fail to see how beautiful, how special, she was? Surely this dress would bring Mila out of the friend-zone, once and for all?
‘Yeah, but they’re all either going to be eighteen or dads! And I am off married men, remember? Never again.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure Liam will be your noble protector.’ They both heard the doorbell ring two floors below. Lee scrambled off the bed before Mila could protest. ‘I’ll get it. We don’t want you twisting an ankle in those heels. Take your time.’