A Year of Chasing Love

by Rosie Chambers

  As she skipped down the stairs, tightening the belt of her coat against the onslaught of the bitter temperature, she experienced an uptick in her mood. She felt attractive and young in her short dress and heels and enjoyed the loose swing of her shoulder-length hair. She was reminded of something Alani had said, that she loved being free to date whenever and whomsoever she wished.

  Maybe she should take a leaf out of Alani’s dating book and go for it!

  When she emerged from the hotel, a nervous anticipation tingled at her extremities – or it could have been the bitingly cold air nibbling at her fingertips. Whichever it was, she was really looking forward to meeting Professor Peter Andersen. They had so much in common irrespective of the number of ticks he scored on the ‘love board’.

  The city streets around the nineteenth-century university teemed with tourists and students in search of a meal that would not require a mortgage. Even the fixed-price menus displayed outside the cafés and bars offered exorbitant prices – no wonder Peter had made sure Rachel was paying. The traffic-free, cobbled squares of the Latin Quarter were lined with second-hand bookshops, which she would have loved to spend time browsing through, but she didn’t want to be late – to Olivia, tardiness was next to rudeness because it meant that the latecomer felt their time was more important than their dinner guest’s time.

  The circular sign depicting a cyclist grasping a penny-farthing announced she had arrived at the Maven Restaurant and Vinbar. Housed in a converted red brick chapel, Olivia adored the gothic arched windows and the silver candelabra, but most of all the enticing fragrance of baked bread and the blast of warmth.

  Good God, this country was cold!

  A waiter led her to a corner table, but there was no sign of Professor Andersen’s smiling greeting.

  ‘Can I offer you a drink, madam?’

  ‘A glass of prosecco rosé, please.’

  She grabbed the menu from the young waiter so as not to feel conspicuous by the absence of her dinner date. She checked her watch. Eight fifteen. Had she been stood up?

  Chapter 24

  At eight thirty, Olivia squeezed the last dribble from her glass of prosecco – which in Copenhagen cost more than a whole bottle would in London – and gathered up the fake Gucci handbag she had bought in Singapore. She had never been stood up before and she struggled to know how to react. Then she checked herself. This was not a date, it was a business meeting, and she’d had many colleagues and clients cancel their appointments with her for a variety of reasons over the years.

  As she raised her buttocks from her chair, a hassled-looking, sandy-haired guy with a full ginger beard rushed into the restaurant. Her lips twitched at the corners as she took in his mustard-coloured corduroy trousers, open-necked burgundy shirt displaying a sprout of red chest hair and, horror of horrors, open-toed leather sandals. In October! She had to battle every instinct to wrench her eyes from the overlong nails.

  Of course, it was her table he headed for.

  ‘I apologise for my tardiness, Olivia. I so easily become distracted by my work. Time is our enemy, is it not?’

  She heard those same chocolate-coated tones, so apparent during their telephone call, but so out of kilter with the physical incarnation standing in front of her.

  ‘Oh, it’s no problem, Professor Andersen,’ she assured him whilst shaking his proffered hand and checking out his chewed fingernails and the gunk collected around the nose pads of his gold-rimmed spectacles. A faint whiff of stale tobacco floated to her nostrils when he draped his tweed sports jacket over the back of the chair opposite her and sat down.

  ‘The food here is superb,’ he said as he passed the leather-bound wine menu back to the sommelier without consulting her. ‘We’ll have a bottle of the Bordeaux.’

  Fortunately, the wine arrived swiftly.

  ‘Skål, Olivia. And “cheers” to our dinner’s benefactor – Professor Rachel Denton!’

  Without performing the ritual of sniffing and tasting, Peter chucked the whole contents of his glass down his throat and smacked his lips noisily. Olivia watched in nauseated fascination as minuscule, blood-red globules of the wine dangled from the end of his beard. She just about managed to prevent a retch by averting her eyes to thank the waiter and enquire as to his recommendations from the menu. Despite recognising her shallow behaviour of judging her dinner companion on his appearance, Olivia couldn’t resist mentally composing a swift bulletin to add to Hollie and Matteo’s list.

  Olivia Hamilton’s Lessons in Love: No 14. “No matter what it says on paper, or the extensively researched Happiness Index, without the spark of physical attraction or emotional chemistry, there’s no chance of love blossoming in the wild.”

  But, if she restricted the frequency of her glances in the direction of his food-splattered beard and his curling toenails, their evening turned out to be perfectly pleasant. Olivia tried not to think of Peter’s regular absences from their table to replenish his nicotine levels and the waft of cigarette smoke that clung to his clothes when he returned. Luckily, they shared a wide breadth of subjects in common as well as an easy eloquence with which to express their opinions. Peter was superbly adept at holding an audience’s avid attention and, after their initial awkwardness, the conversation flowed.

  ‘What surprises me as well as Rachel is that, despite topping the recent World Happiness Index, Denmark has one of the highest divorce rates in the EU. How do you account for that?’

  Peter swirled the contents of his third glass of wine around the goblet, running his tongue over his lower lip then poking its tip into the corners of his mouth to extract a last morsel of the lemon-infused bread that had accompanied his seafood soup. Olivia disguised her grimace by taking a gulp of her Perrier. Yet Peter was right – the food was heavenly. The aroma of her crab croquette was tantalising and rewarded her taste buds with an abundance of flavour. When their main courses arrived, Peter confirmed that his rib-eye steak had been prepared to perfection and she had to admit that her grilled lobster was the best she’d had, including Elliot’s feted Cornish Lobster.

  ‘We Danes top the Happiness Index due to several factors, Olivia. Whilst the old adage says money cannot buy happiness, sadly its accumulation is the means of achieving a comfortable standard of living. Denmark is blessed with low unemployment. We are also bestowed with higher-than-average salaries despite having the shortest working week in the EU. An increasing percentage of our population are college-educated, which contributes to economic stability and prosperity just as much as our North Sea oil. We also boast strong technological and creative industries. We have Bang and Olufsen, and don’t ignore one of our best design exports – Lego! And I have no doubt you will be aware of the recent upsurge of interest in Danish design, literature and TV dramas.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I am. My friend, Hollie Shaw, is a criminal defence advocate. She loves Nordic Noir. One of her favourite novels is Murder in the Dark by Dan Turèll. I’ve never heard her beg before but that’s exactly what she did when Rachel told her she had tickets to the Q&A the book’s translator gave via video-link at UCL,’ said Olivia with a laugh.

  ‘Well, the novel is set right here in Copenhagen, but it is not the city you will encounter whilst you’re here, I hope,’ said Peter, his expression morphing into earnestness as he continued his explanation for his fellow Danes’ happiness. ‘As a nation we tend to be rule-followers. There is also a strong sense of community here. We are a small country with a respect for collective civic responsibility. We trust our government and boast a high level of participation in the political process. Did you know that over 90 per cent of Danish citizens exercise their right to vote? I believe the figure is closer to 65 per cent in the UK. We have a progressive welfare system, good healthcare and childcare provision and, as I have said, a superb education system. But on an individual level, we also support each other. We can rely on our neighbours and colleagues, even our employers, for their support in times of need. We also have one of the oldest monarchi
es in the world and our royal family is popular with its subjects.’

  The waiter arrived with their desserts. Olivia hardly noticed the chocolate mousse served with brown-butter ice cream and melted white chocolate. She now understood completely why Professor Peter Andersen was so popular as a lecturer and public speaker. His voice had the knack of drawing in its listener and holding on to their interest with a tenacious grip – and he certainly took full advantage of the effects because Olivia couldn’t get a word in edgeways.

  ‘Denmark, too, has an abundance of natural beauty. We enjoy outdoor pursuits despite the cold. We protect our environment and 15 per cent of our energy comes from renewable sources. Our streets are safe and the crime rate is low. The air we breathe is clean and the water we drink is of superior quality. Our life expectancy is high and here in Denmark we have one of the smallest gaps between rich and poor in the world.’

  Peter leaned forward, his soft brown gaze resting on Olivia’s enamoured silver eyes. This time she could not, did not want to, tear her eyes away. What Peter had to say was not only fascinating but he possessed the ability of ensuring relevance in every sentence he spoke. She chastised herself for not bringing a notepad or voice recorder – his contribution to Rachel’s research project would enhance not only its breadth but also its credibility – and she was relieved she’d eschewed the temptation of alcohol.

  ‘But, Olivia, you are here for my personal synopsis, are you not? So this is it. The Danes are a very level-headed people. We do not strive for brash exuberance or the peaks of exhilarating joy. Therefore, we do not experience the rush of intense happiness before suffering the inevitable crush of the anti-climax. In my view, the modern-day “constant craving” for “happiness” can be likened to an addiction; that ruthless quest for a vibrant upsurge of hormones and the subsequent delivery of euphoria, necessitating its constant repeat. Instead, Danish people are satisfied with a steady, longer-lasting contentment – what I like to call “an amiable cosiness”. We keep our expectations grounded in the real world. None of the euphoria, no, but none of the crash and burn, either.’

  Peter’s eyes lingered on Olivia as she dug her teaspoon into the rich chocolate mousse.

  ‘Nor do we gorge ourselves on high-fat, sugar-laden, commercially produced fast food. We prefer our food in its natural state, eaten simply, taking pleasure in its flavour, its aroma, and in the presence of family or good friends not on a tray slumped in front of the computer monitor or the television. We do not understand the concept of yo-yo dieting and have cultivated a more stable, healthy relationship with our food. These are some of the reasons Denmark has topped the Happiness league table.’

  Olivia had forgotten her amusement at Peter’s attire and rug-like beard. The tone of his voice was hypnotic. She was riveted by his research and no longer had to quell the urge to run screaming from the horror of his discoloured toenails.

  ‘So, why the high divorce rate when Danish couples are so happy? It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘There are many factors that can explain the anomaly. But the one in which I believe you personally are interested, Olivia—’ his eyes twinkled behind his glasses ‘—is that the legal process of divorce has been made easier and swifter. Only six months’ separation is required and we apply a low court fee. We have a “no blame” divorce system, too. I hope to be able to email you a useful paper, which one of my students has recently completed, comparing the different systems for the dissolution of marriage around the European Union.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very …’

  ‘But there are other reasons, of course. The system of ending a marriage only applies after the fact, yes? I have told you Denmark has the shortest working week. We also are blessed with a higher than average number of public holidays. It means we see a lot of our spouses and family. We have high female employment and equality of salary. Mothers do not depend on their partners for child support, and we have a generous state welfare system, which contributes to childcare costs for working families. Did you know we have allowances for children up to the age of twenty-four, if they are still pursuing their education?’

  Peter absently scratched at his beard and Olivia recalled his own personal circumstances.

  ‘Many couples agree their child custody and contact arrangements on a fifty-fifty basis and it’s not uncommon for separated families to still holiday together or to spend Christmas and birthdays in each other’s company. It makes for happier, better-adjusted children. I myself will be spending the holidays with my former spouse and children. Another very important point is that because divorce is widespread there is no stigma attached – it’s no big deal, unlike in some nations. Danes refuse to remain in relationships that have failed.’

  Professor Andersen was right. Wasn’t he always? thought Olivia. Time was the enemy of the absorbed listener, because she had failed to notice that the waiters were starting to clear the tables around them.

  ‘I think we are preventing these good people from pursuing their social lives. That will not make them happy!’ Peter laughed as he rose to help Olivia with her coat.

  ‘Thank you for your time this evening, Professor Andersen. I promise I’ll try my best to do justice to your input into Rachel’s research.’

  ‘Most welcome, Olivia.’ And he leaned forward to plant a wet kiss on her cheek. Olivia stifled a giggle as his bristles stabbed her skin.

  Once back at the hotel, wrapped in a warm fluffy dressing gown, she paused to think a while before banging out her promised missives to Hollie and Matteo. What she had learned from Professor Andersen was not as straightforward as a list of lessons on how to find enduring love. On the contrary, Denmark’s experience had provided evidence that disproved the contention that enduring relationships led to lifelong happiness. Their conversation, though, had turned out to be one of the most expensive discussions she had ever had, recalling Peter’s urgent escape to the restroom when the bill arrived. Thank God for credit cards and Rachel’s generosity.

  After careful consideration of everything she had heard that evening, she plumped for a deviation from her usual ‘lessons in love’ to ‘mindful missives’.

  Olivia Hamilton’s Mindful Missives: No 15. “Acceptance of the validity of all lifestyles, not just the institution of marriage, ensures societal contentment and cohesion.”

  Olivia Hamilton’s Mindful Missives: No 16. “Calm contentment, rather than joyous jubilation, produces a happier lifestyle.”

  And then she added an extra one purely as a reminder to herself.

  Olivia Hamilton’s Mindful Missives: No 17. “Never, ever, ever judge a book by its cover. Beneath the tangled ginger beard there may be a sparkling intellect and a heart of gold.”

  Olivia slid between the smooth cotton sheets and dragged the duvet up to her chin. The exhilarating jog back to the hotel through the streets of hip boutiques and vintage bazaars had lubricated her mental cogs just enough for her to succumb to a bout of self-recrimination followed by self-pity.

  Firstly, she was disgusted at how shallow she had become. Despite not possessing the hoped-for dating material, Prof Andersen had been a charming dinner companion. What did his attention to pedicures matter when the conversation was so absorbing? She chastised her prejudices and resolved to eradicate them, but what upset her most about the evening’s revelations was the realisation that if the happiest country in the world couldn’t make marriage work, what hope was there for the everyone else who chose that institution as a way to declare their love for each other?

  Would she ever find love again? And if she was lucky enough to stumble across a guy who was a non-smoker with a pristine mani-pedi and a rigorous skin care routine, and who sent ripples of unbridled desire through her icy veins, when she applied the current list of her lessons in love to any future relationship, what was the likelihood their partnership would last? Too many of the risk factors were present and instead of counting sheep, she decided to count them:

  One: It would be her s
econd marriage – a proven increased risk.

  Two: If college-educated couples remained together this would reduce the pool of eligibility of those with similar educational backgrounds from which to select.

  Three: Any future partner was likely to have had a previous long-term relationship, possibly children. The advent of stepfamilies was not something she had concentrated on in her travels, but she bet her aunt Mary’s silver teapot their existence did not reduce the risk of failure.

  Four: At her age – and this hurt more than she had anticipated – she was unlikely to have children, so that was something a potential partner may consider disadvantageous.

  She saw her life stretching away into a wilderness of loneliness and abstinence and her head began to spin despite her recent achievement of having almost conquered her reliance on the insidious effects of alcohol.

  Yet, sadly, she wasn’t the only one. Look at Rachel – still single at forty. Why hadn’t she settled down? A question to broach when the time was right. Was this how Rachel counted her own sheep?

  Guilt at not considering her oldest friend’s predicament gnawed at her conscience. When she returned to work in December – only a month away now – she was adamant she would not resume her neglectful behaviour towards her family and friends. If Rachel could chastise her about her dating itinerary then it worked both ways – and she intended to include Denise in that lecture, too. When had she last had a date?

  Then there was Hollie and Matteo. Over twenty years they had known each other and now Elliot had told her that Matteo had loved Hollie for all that time but was too scared of losing her friendship to reveal his true feelings. Why? No, her head would explode if she tumbled down that rabbit hole.

  Tears gathered along Olivia’s lashes in the exorbitantly priced Copenhagen hotel room. Unlike her parents, Katrina and Will, Henry and Jean, even Hollie and Matteo, and Rachel and Denise to a certain extent, she had no one to share her life with. No one to care for her when she was sick or support her when she was sad. Her future would be childless, which meant no grandchildren to dote on when she grew old and infirm.