The Little Cafe in Copenhagen

by Julie Caplin

  ‘That’s not it. It’s not the accident. I’m a fraud, you know.’

  ‘I’m sure you aren’t. We all get upset.’ Eva’s soothing words made Avril screw up her face in protest.

  ‘No, seriously. I am. My marriage is in a mess.’ She ducked her head as if ashamed of her confession, picking at the strap on her handbag which she clutched to her chest like some kind of shield. ‘Christopher, my husband, isn’t interested any more. I know he isn’t.’ Her petulant declaration sounded as if she were daring us to contradict her.

  ‘He avoids me as much as possible. I know he hates spending time with me.’ Her face crumpled again as she balled the napkin in her hand.

  Eva’s lips pursed. ‘Now. Is that what you know or what you think?’

  With a shrug, Avril looked a little defiant as if she wasn’t used to having her view of the world challenged. ‘I’m a disappointment to him.’

  ‘How? You’re gorgeous, successful,’ I offered immediately worried that she might think if that was all I had to say, I was suggesting she was shallow. I needn’t have worried.

  Avril lifted a disdainful eyebrow and looked directly at me. ‘And high-maintenance.’

  I blushed and opened my mouth to try to deny it.

  ‘It’s alright, you might not have said it but most people think it. They’re right, I am.’

  ‘Yes,’ interrupted Eva, ‘but surely your husband knew that before you were married. Didn’t he love you as you were? Has that changed?’

  With a self-deprecating half-laugh Avril’s mouth turned down. ‘It used to amuse him. Before we were married, he’d tease me about it but he said he loved that I knew what I wanted and didn’t play games. But now he’s bored with it. I know he is!’ She snatched up her coffee.

  ‘Has he said that?’

  ‘No, but I can tell,’ she mumbled from behind her cup.

  ‘How?’ persisted Eva, to Avril’s irritation. I realised she was expecting us to take her word for it.

  ‘Well …’ she wrinkled her face in thought, ‘we … we used to sit together after dinner and talk. Now it’s as if he can’t eat quickly enough so that he can get back to his study. He shuts the door. And then comes to bed when he thinks I’m asleep. Although I never am.’

  ‘Have you told him how you feel?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have to,’ Avril’s pout was back. ‘He should know.’

  I bit back a smile quite happy to let Eva continue her careful probing. There was bugger all I could contribute.

  ‘What? Like you know that he’s bored with you?’ Eva’s voice held a sharp snap, tough love breaking through, which had both Avril and I straightening up in our seats.

  ‘But he is bored with me.’ There was a slight touch of the defensive in her mutinous words.

  ‘What’s he doing in the study? Instead of being with you?’

  ‘He runs his own business. I don’t quite understand what he does. Computer stuff. We’re very different. He doesn’t get the whole media thing or how important my job is.’

  ‘And is his job not important?’

  Avril looked as if this was a complete revelation.

  ‘Well of course but …’

  ‘So you haven’t asked him about his work?’ Eva’s voice held the barest touch of teasing.

  ‘No.’ Avril’s voice was a touch sulky. ‘Computing stuff is boring.’

  ‘Not to him,’ suggested Eva.

  Avril tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘I guess not.’

  ‘When was the last time you took an interest in him? What he does? You said you used to bake for him? Coffee and walnut cake.’

  Avril’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t have time these days.’

  ‘Maybe you need to make time. Maybe you need to show him that you still care.’

  ‘I do still care.’

  ‘Do you tell him?’

  ‘It’s rather difficult when he’s tied to his computer.’

  ‘So how does he know? What if he’s thinking that you’re bored with him? That you don’t care because you don’t bake for him, like you used to?’

  ‘That’s ridicu …’ her voice petered out, her face crumpling with confusion. ‘Oh.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if the two of you are communicating very well. Sometimes someone has to take the first step to change things. Do you want your marriage to succeed?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Why?’ Eva’s blunt cut to the chase question had Avril’s eyes flashing.

  ‘Because I love him.’

  Eva leaned back in her chair with the merest hint of a smug smile on her face. ‘More than your job?’

  Avril nodded.

  ‘Then perhaps you need to show him. Make him that coffee and walnut cake he used to love so much.’

  Avril dropped her head in her hands. ‘Oh God, you’re right. I’m such an evil bitch. It’s all about me. I am high-maintenance but I love him. I’ve been so obsessed with how important my job is, I’ve stopped listening to him. Stopped making time for him. When we first got together, we had a golden rule. No talking about work for the first hour I came in. But we kind of lost sight of that. Oh God, it’s me. It’s all my fault. I’m the one driving him away. I’ve neglected him.’

  Eva held up her hand. ‘Enough.’

  Avril’s lips twitched. ‘I’m being a drama queen again, aren’t I?’

  With a smile, Eva lifted her shoulders neither denying nor agreeing.

  ‘I’m going to call him. Tell him about the accident. Make him a cake when I get home.’

  Chapter 16

  ‘For fuck’s sake, you’re kidding me.’

  ‘No, but it’s fine,’ I said, keeping my voice low even though I was on my own in my room. I’d left it as late as possible to phone Megan, knowing that I could use the excuse I had to meet the others for dinner in a minute. ‘It was just a small accident; I thought you ought to know.’

  With one hand, I unzipped my jeans and tried to peel them down my legs.

  Unfortunately, Avril hadn’t brought her EHIC card with her which would have ensured free treatment, so I’d had to settle the hefty medical bill on the company credit card, otherwise I might not have confessed.

  ‘What were you doing? You were there, weren’t you?’

  ‘Of course I was there.’ I wriggled the denim past my knees, both of which had a rusty coating of blood which had crept into the wrinkles in my skin. ‘We were all on the boat together.’ Where did she think I was? I explained about the scarf.

  ‘Stupid cow,’ Megan hissed. ‘I knew she’d be trouble. I might have known it would be her.’

  ‘Actually, she’s not that bad.’ I certainly wasn’t going to tell Megan about her breakdown at the café or the vulnerable woman I’d seen beneath the glossy veneer.

  ‘Hmph,’ dismissed Megan. ‘Is she going to sue?’

  I swapped the phone to my other ear as I disentangled my jeans from my ankles, almost falling over as I hopped out of them.

  ‘Sue?’ That hadn’t even occurred to me.

  ‘Yes, hold us responsible as the trip organisers. You’d better write up a report, document everything thoroughly and email it through tonight. You were supervising properly, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I snapped, eyeing my legs and walking into the bathroom. ‘But they are all adults.’

  ‘As a company we – you – are responsible for their well-being. You’re representing the company. If this gets out or she decides to sue … What’s that noise?’

  I’d just turned on the taps to the bath, keen to clean myself up.

  ‘Water. I’m running a bath.’

  ‘Make yourself at home.’

  ‘Megan, I’m covered in blood.’ As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t.

  ‘What! You didn’t tell me it was that bad. Christ, she is going to sue!’

  ‘Head wounds bleed a lot.’ I winced. ‘It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.’

  ‘But what if she’s got concussion? A bleed on the
brain. People die from bumps on the head. Oh jeez, it could cause major reputation damage. We could be done for corporate manslaughter.’

  ‘She’s not dead yet,’ I snapped.

  ‘This is not the time for jokes, Kate. Are you sure she’s OK? I’m really not happy about this.’

  ‘Megan, I didn’t mean to joke but I promise you, she’s fine. She was checked out by a trained doctor. And I was there.’ Honestly, if I’d realised Megan would get in such a tizz about this, I would have waited until we got back and fessed up when the credit card bill was due. ‘She’s OK and I seriously don’t think she’s likely to sue. She was very apologetic about the trouble she’d caused.’

  ‘Hmph.’ Megan went quiet.

  ‘She didn’t bump her head properly she … er … ducked in time.’ I decided against mentioning Ben’s heroic rugby tackle or how much worse it could have been.

  ‘And there’s no way you could have prevented it. No come-back on the company.’

  ‘Avril has had a couple of stitches and she’s lying down, but she was feeling much better. I’m going to keep checking on her every hour and we’ll see how she feels in the morning.’

  ‘Oh great. Will we need to fly her back? That’ll cost a fortune.’

  ‘I’m hoping she’ll feel better.’ Because it would be awful to be in pain, miserable and away from home stuck in a hotel, none of which seemed to have occurred to Megan.

  ‘You’d better keep me posted. Call me tomorrow morning. Maybe I should send someone else out. Damage limitation.’

  ‘Do you know what, Megan? No. I don’t need anyone else. I managed the situation.’ With a little help from my friends. ‘No one else could have done anything differently. It was an unfortunate accident but I dealt with it. I got her to the doctor, sorted everything out and it’s all fine.’

  ‘Oh. OK. Well it does sound as if you’ve got everything under control.’

  Well done for managing in difficult circumstances, Kate. Just once it would be nice to get some credit.

  ‘What did the other journalists do while you were with Avril?’

  ‘Oh, they were fine.’ I didn’t tell her that they’d spent the afternoon in the hotel bar. I dreaded to think how much that had cost.

  ‘And what’s the plan for this evening? Another fabulous Michelin starred restaurant for dinner?’

  Make up your mind. One minute this is hard work and I’m incapable, the next minute it’s a piece of cake and all that’s involved is swanning off for dinner every five minutes.

  ‘I need to check on Avril and see how she feels and depending on that we’ll change the plan. I popped out to the pharmacy and bought some paracetamol and ibuprofen.’

  ‘Smart move. Hopefully you won’t have to change the dinner plans. Avast does look fabulous.’

  My boss was devoid of any empathy. I’d purchased the medication hoping it might help alleviate Avril’s banging headache and make her feel a bit less pathetic.

  Megan wittered on. ‘I looked it up. I had no idea Copenhagen was so foodie. That place is bloody hard to get into and it would be a shame to cancel. I’m thinking about getting Giles to take me for a long weekend.’

  ‘If Avril is well enough we’ll stick to the original itinerary and have dinner at Avast, if not we’ll eat at the hotel again, so that I can keep checking on her. Make sure she’s alright.’

  ‘Good thinking. I like that. Means you can keep everyone together, even if eating in the hotel isn’t quite the same.’

  I bit back a smile, in case she could tell over the phone. She clearly hadn’t looked up the details of the hotel.

  There was a gentle knock at the door.

  ‘Hang on, Megan, someone’s at my door.’ I looked round to find something to pull on as I didn’t fancy opening the door in my pants.

  ‘Let’s hope it’s not another problem.’

  I finished the call, reassuring Megan for what felt like the ninety-fifth time, that I was coping just fine as I wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door.

  There was no one there, but there was an H&M bag sitting in front of the metal threshold. I looked up and down the silent corridor and picked up the bag.

  Inside there were four pairs of jeans with a note and a receipt.

  Not sure what size you are or what style you might like, so bought several. B

  Seriously Ben had done this? Grumpy Ben.

  That wasn’t standard man behaviour. And definitely not mad fox behaviour.

  As soon as Avril answered my light knock on her door, it was clear that her phone call had gone well.

  ‘Everything OK? How are you feeling?’ It was a bit of a stupid question.

  She looked a far cry from earlier. Skilful application of foundation, blusher and powder had hidden the purplish bruise blooming on her cheekbone like an ink stain and she’d arranged her hair in an artful, messy top knot with lots of loose tendrils that almost hid the row of livid black stitches in her temple.

  ‘I feel a lot better.’ Her smile was shy. ‘Christopher was cross that I hadn’t phoned him before.’ Her eyes shone. ‘He offered to fly out to be with me. Insisted on having a Skype call because he wanted to make sure I was OK.’

  ‘That’s lovely. You see he does care. Eva was right.’

  ‘She is lovely isn’t she? I wish my mother was like that. You think I’m high maintenance, God you should meet my mother. Other people throw a scene; she’s more inclined to three act plays. It can be sooo embarrassing. No wonder my father left her. I guess that’s why I keep thinking that Christopher will go off me.’

  I didn’t like to say that perhaps she could try to change if she was that worried, but as she said earlier, her husband had known what she was like when he married her.

  ‘What would you like to do this evening? I’m happy to stay at the hotel with you if you’d like a quiet night in.’ I gave her full make-up a second glance.

  ‘No, I’ve taken enough ibuprofen to knock out an elephant and put on enough slap to coat said elephant. I’m good to go.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked doubtfully. ‘If you change your mind at any point we’ll call a cab and we can come back.’

  ‘It took me half an hour to achieve this,’ Avril pointed to the slight swelling on her cheek, ‘I’m not wasting all that effort.’

  Avril the TV presenter was back, stylish and elegant in a black playsuit, with tiny diamante buttons down the front.

  ‘I’ve heard a lot about this restaurant from Stacey Wakely, the weathergirl with pretensions to present,’ Avril gave a shark-like smile. ‘And there’s no way I’m having her outdo me in the best restaurants I’ve ever eaten in stakes. Besides I’ve already put on Twitter we’re going there.’

  We met everyone else in the lobby and they fell upon her with sympathetic cries. It amused me to see her accepting everyone’s observation of how brave she was, with a cool incline of her head. She caught my eye over the heads and she gave me a small serene smile with a tiny wink. Oh yes, she was back.

  The white washed brick interior of the restaurant was understated but clearly a lot of thought had gone into the clean, simple design. Sturdy rustic wooden tables and unfussy wooden spindle backed chairs were arranged in neat rows with elegant place settings of stylish cutlery and classic long-stemmed glassware.

  Much was made of the fact that all the food served was local, seasonal and where possible foraged, and as a result the menu was extremely limited, one choice of starter, hake with mustard and horseradish, followed by the main course, beef, celeriac and cep mushrooms, with the added option of a wine menu to accompany each course. I wasn’t too sure about the birch bark ice cream dessert.

  ‘Wow this place is amazing,’ said Sophie.

  ‘I’m going to call you Little Miss Sunshine from now on,’ I teased her, ‘You say that about everywhere we’ve been.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Fiona nodded, a little dimple appearing in her cheek. ‘You do.’

  ‘Well, it has been a lovely trip so
far,’ said David with stout defence, ‘despite the accident today, although Avril seems to have bounced back.’ He looked down to the other end of the table where she was having a lively conversation with Ben and Mads. I gave her a good hour and a half before the effect of the Nurofen ran out. ‘I’ve enjoyed it.’ His wistful sigh had Sophie patting his hand. ‘I’m going to miss everyone.’

  ‘We’ll have to have a Copenhagen Crowd reunion,’ said Fiona.

  Conrad shuddered with a touch of drama as he reached for the balloon red wine glass. He had opted for the wine tasting menu which I could have predicted. ‘I’m not sure about that darling. Not really my thing.’

  ‘You’re an old fraud, Conrad.’ David laughed at him. ‘You’ve had a good time.’

  ‘Actually,’ Conrad conceded with a mischievous twinkle, ‘the company has been of a far better calibre than I expected. And,’ he toasted me with his wine, ‘the victuals and beverages of an excellent standard. Well organised young Kate. The last trip I went on, Lord, I thought I was going to asphyxiate on cheap perfume and overdose on Prosecco. I mean you can have too much of a good thing but after a while only a decent glass of red wine will do. Talking of which …’ He looked expectantly at me reminding me I was back on duty.

  When the waiter brought the bread and butter - the rye rolls presented on a thick bed of cracked wheat and the butter curls sat on a lattice of pea shoots floating in a tiny glass saucer of water – it was obvious we were in for a treat.

  With great ceremony an unexpected appetiser arrived, accompanied by a highly tattooed and very enthusiastic young chef who explained that the honey cured smoked salmon was to be wrapped in the sour dough pancake with the foraged salad of tiny white enoki mushrooms (which I’d never heard of before, let alone seen), wild elderberries, lamb’s lettuce and slivers of cucumber. If it hadn’t been for the manic passion of the chef, I might have thought it all a bit pretentious.

  ‘Wait,’ said Fiona holding up a hand in a halting motion as Sophie grabbed her fork, taking several pictures of the fallen angel, chef and the beautifully presented dishes which did look like works of art in their own right.