by Julie Caplin
I pulled my purse out from my handbag and followed the manager’s angry strides to the cash desk.
Chapter 17
The café cast a golden glow onto the cobbled street, a welcoming beacon guiding me in and I relaxed immediately as I walked through the door of Varme. After the previous night’s escapade I’d been too strung out to sleep properly. As if she knew, Eva magically appeared with a steaming mug of coffee and a hot kanelsnegle, putting them down at a table and ushering me into the seat.
‘Rough night?’
‘How did you guess?’
She simply smiled and nodded towards the coffee.
I’d barely taken a sip when the door opened and my mouth dropped open in surprise. The last person I’d expected to see at this time was Conrad and it was clear from the protective way that David sat next to him, that he’d come along as reinforcements. My heart sank; this had become my little haven, where I started the day with just Eva, my coffee and pastry, before I faced the group. I was Katie here.
Conrad gave me a nervous smile, picking and worrying at the edge of the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Morning Kate,’ he croaked.
Good, it sounded as if he’d got a champion hangover.
Suddenly I was aware of Eva slipping into the seat next to me like a UN peacekeeper.
I took refuge in sipping the coffee and grateful for the slow hit of caffeine, while I tried to frame the first words.
‘Kate, I’m terribly sorry. I am an idiot.’
I stiffened at Conrad’s cheery unrepentant apology. Idiot wasn’t the word I’d have used but before I could say anything, David frowned and nudged him discreetly.
Conrad edged away as if trying to escape. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ He shrugged his shoulders, all innocence as if he’d been gripped by some mythical uncontrollable urge.
‘Conrad,’ David’s gentle remonstrance made the four of us around the table pause.
I shot his jacket pockets a pointed look and was pleased to see he had the grace to look ashamed. Conrad had always been a potential liability but somehow, I’d assumed that he’d have enough respect for me to behave. The realisation that he didn’t hurt.
‘So, what happened?’ I was rather proud that I managed to keep my voice level and even.
‘I was wandering past. The door was open. I thought I’d have a little look.’ His gaze flitted towards the window and he tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.
‘And a couple of bottles hopped in your pocket?’ Weariness crept into my voice and I caught my lip in my teeth feeling close to tears.
‘Now, now Kate. It wasn’t like that.’ His eyes shied away again. ‘I was taking a quick peek and then the next thing I know, the door closed. I was locked in. No way out. Well, what was a man to do?’ He lifted his shoulders in sheepish encouragement as if I might agree that he’d done the only thing sensible and attempt to drink the place dry. ‘There were some jolly nice wines,’ he added this time including Eva in his naughty-little-me routine. I noticed that David clenched his lips and folded his arms, exuding disapproval.
‘I know, I paid the bill.’ I looked at him but he went silent seeming to find the grain of the wood on the table rather fascinating.
Irritated beyond belief, I blurted out, ‘But why Conrad? That’s what I don’t understand. Every luxury has been laid on for this trip.’
He swallowed and David nudged him again, this time adding with a stern hiss, ‘Tell them the truth.’
Conrad screwed up his face, looked at David and let out a long deep breath, his shoulders slumping and then as if someone had pulled the plug on his bonhomie, his face sagged, the lines deepening ploughing furrows across his forehead.
‘I’m broke. Flat broke. The magazine made me redundant three months ago. I freelance for them. Trips like this are a godsend. I can eat, drink and not worry. I saw the wine and … I guess like a squirrel, burying nuts, it just takes over, this panic. Sheer blind panic. I grabbed a couple of bottles. Not even thinking. Save them for later. And then someone shut the door.’
He dropped his head into his hands. ‘I’m about to move into the shittiest bedsit in Acton. It’s all I can afford.’ His breath hitched. ‘My last wife took me to the cleaners. Took the house. If everyone knew … I’d be a laughing stock. Conrad Fletcher, the interiors expert, arbiter of taste, design guru who can’t even afford to shop in Ikea.’ He winced. ‘Freelance work is hard to come by at the moment. The only thing I’m going to have is my pension. Once I stop working I’ll have nothing.’
His pain filled words were touched with panic. ‘I’ve got nothing. I’m sorry Kate, I’ll pay back the money.’ He paused, his finger brushing the bill as if he could hardly bear to look at it let alone pick it up. ‘Somehow.’ The final added broken word made me feel terrible, like a bully in the playground picking on someone much weaker.
‘Oh, Conrad,’ I said, feeling desperately sorry for him. He looked like a deflated balloon, a far cry from the sophisticated man who held court over lunch in the smartest restaurants in town, who had for years struck terror into designers with a few well-placed cutting comments.
‘It’s a sham. A house of cards.’
‘Don’t go overboard with the dramatics,’ said David, his calm gentle tone at odds with the words.
Conrad gave him a sheepish nod. ‘You’re quite right, again. David’s been very kind. He called first thing to see if I was OK. I am genuinely sorry. I get a bit carried away. Have a drink and it’s all too awful to contemplate so I pretend it’s not happening and I do silly things to block out real life. I’ve been an old fool. I will pay that money back for the wine.’
‘Don’t worry about that, Conrad,’ I said reaching over the table and patting his arm. He suddenly looked much older than his sixty-six years. It felt very uncomfortable seeing this vulnerability in him. ‘I’m sure the company,’ I bit my lip, shooting a quick glance at Eva, it was her son that was picking up the tab for this trip, ‘will pay.’
‘Of course, it will,’ said Eva staunchly. ‘But you need to sort yourself out.’ She looked at me. ‘Kate, would you mind going to make another cup of coffee.’
‘Er, no.’ I rose to my feet slowly but she didn’t say a word until I was out of earshot.
By the time I’d made three fresh coffees, forgoing one for myself, the three of them were nodding as if they’d just signed some great peace treaty.
‘Want to share?’ I asked more than a little put out.
Eva beamed at me. ‘I think we’ve found a solution to Conrad and David’s problems. Conrad is going to rent the top floor of David’s house.’
David grinned. ‘I’ve got plenty of space.’
‘And I’m jolly good company,’ said Conrad. ‘And its only now he tells me he lives in one of those darling Edwardian terraces in Chapham North, which is so up and coming it’s about to top Shoreditch.’
Eva sat back, with the sort of benign smile that said her work was done as the two men talked about David’s house, the benefits of its location, the size of the rooms, the layout of the kitchen.
David’s confession of being lonely the other day had sparked several thoughts. Were those black moments when I wondered what I was doing with my life, me standing on the edge of loneliness?
I glanced at my phone which had beeped. My Twitter notifications were there. Oh damn, Avril had tweeted.
Another fab day #WonderfulCopenhagen, although we almost lost one. Turned up in the wine cellar attempting to drink it dry #presstripantics
It was too much to hope Megan wouldn’t see or hear about the tweet. She’d texted me. ‘Call me.’
Chapter 18
Megan’s words still rang in my ears when I met up with the others. After a heated conversation, where I had to explain about Avril’s tweet, I felt thoroughly demoralised. Luckily, she didn’t ask how much Conrad’s escapade had cost and I hoped the credit card bill wouldn’t land in the office any time soon.
This morning we were going to the Carlsberg Bre
wery and then on to the famous Round Tower, with a few hours free and then a much-anticipated trip to Tivoli Gardens, of which we’d had tantalising glimpses of ever since we’d arrived.
I was going to be keeping a close eye on Conrad. Apparently, the brewery had the largest collection of bottled beer in the world which numbered over ten thousand bottles. Yes, I was going to be keeping a very close eye on Conrad indeed.
The brewery was a hit with everyone, even Ben seemed to enjoy it, Fiona, as usual, managed to snap plenty of photos and Avril amazed us all by being somewhat of an expert on beer, it turned out she came from a minor brewing dynasty.
After that we headed to the Round Tower, which I was dreading. I’m not great with heights and certainly didn’t want to let anyone in the group know. Disasters to date withstanding, I felt I’d come through and had garnered a bit of respect from them all. It looked as if I knew what I was doing and the last thing I wanted was to look an idiot in front of them all.
Luckily the Rundetaarn wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I’d seen plenty of pictures of a rather gloomy looking Rapunzel tower, with narrow gothic windows but the real thing was so much more picturesque and much bigger than it looked. It promised spectacular views over the city. All I had to do was focus on looking out over the horizon and not down and I’d be fine. No one would ever know that my insides were already quivering at the thought.
As soon as we stepped inside, I fell in love with the bright and roomy white-washed walls of the tower. Reassuringly it looked more like a contemporary art gallery than an ancient monument. There were no steps at this level, instead a wide gentle path coiled upwards, its cobbled stones bathed in the sunshine pouring through the regular window niches set deep in the walls. Stark and simple, there was no sensation of height at all and I could concentrate on the leisurely walk.
‘It was designed so that a horse and carriage could drive up here,’ explained Mads as we wound our way up. ‘Cars have also been driven up here and every year there is a unicycle race to the top and down again.’
‘They must be crazy,’ said Sophie. ‘And have very sore backsides after bouncing about on these cobbles.’
I managed to avoid looking out of the windows, even though the others stopped regularly to peer out at the view. None of them seemed to have noticed my periodic interest in my phone or my strategic photos looking back down the way we’d come.
We were almost at the top when Mads stopped and gestured to a small opening, almost like an igloo, in the very centre of the tower.
‘Go in. Take a look.’ Mads grinned. ‘If you’re brave enough.’
We bunched together no one wanting to be the first to enter the small space. Everyone but me seemed to be intrigued by the challenging smile on his face.
Ben squeezed past and went into the tiny opening, ducking his head as he went.
‘Step out,’ yelled Mads.
‘Seriously?’ Ben called back.
‘Yes.’ Mads flashed us his usual cheery grin. ‘It’s quite safe.’
I heard him whistle and then he backed out to join us. ‘That’s a scary thing. A leap of faith.’
Of course, everyone wanted to see after that, so one by one they filed in. I hung back like a good host at a dinner table, waiting for all the guests to take their turn. Of course, that was the wrong thing to do because it meant that at the end all eyes focused on me.
‘Go on, Kate, your turn,’ said Sophie. ‘It’s brilliant.’
I dithered, my heart starting to pound a little. ‘No, you’re alright. I’m sure you all want to get to the top of the tower and we need to keep to our schedule. Don’t forget I’m one of the guides. I’m working.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Sophie and Avril backed her up.
‘No honestly. It’s fine.’ I gave them a stiff smile, hoping the sheer terror didn’t show. I did not want to go to pieces in front of them all.
Unfortunately, with a row of enthusiastic faces urging you on, it’s very difficult to listen to your inner voice telling you that this is a crazy, stupid idea because how could anything at the top of a very tall tower, down a very narrow aperture, possibly be brilliant.
‘Come on, Kate, we’ve all done it. It’s important you join in,’ Ben’s voice held a note of challenge and I shot him a dirty look, to which he raised one eyebrow and quirked his lip.
Damn him. They’d all stopped waiting patiently. How could I not do it?
Taking a deep breath, I took a few paces forward. Mind over matter. For the sake of my job, I could do this. I was a professional. Of course, I could do this. Mads had said it was quite safe.
The tiny tunnel was quite claustrophobic. Once inside you couldn’t turn around. The tunnel opened into a circular space, with a circle in the centre of the floor. I looked down … whoa! Hastily I stepped back except there was nowhere to step back. Heart pounding, I forced myself to look again. Bloody hell, the hairs on my forearms spiked. Scary. Scary. Scary. It was a very long way down. A very, very long way down. You could see right down through the core of the building.
‘Step on it, Kate. It’s glass,’ urged Mads.
What the … Clever lighting created an illusion and there was a piece of glass over the top, not that it made me feel any better.
Behind me I could tell they were all peering down the narrow opening. I pushed out a tentative toe. Oh thank God, I could feel the glass. It was there.
‘Go on, Kate, step on it.’
I closed my eyes, fingers clenched tight in my palms, took a deep breath and stepped out. My heart leapt in fierce gratitude at the feel of the firm surface of the glass beneath my feet.
Phew, I’d done it. Now I could go back, head held high.
I should have left it at that, but no I had to go and look down.
Big mistake. Huge.
The glass had gone. Completely vanished. I was hanging in mid-air.
Everything inside me melted as if my bones had been removed. I swayed for a second, fighting against dizziness, locking my knees trying to stop the sensation of falling. Any second now. I was going to feel myself falling, falling, falling, going down and down. I braced myself, fearful of the pain of landing, except in another part of my mind, I knew I was stationary despite the rushing in my ears, the blurry vision and the whoosh of my lungs as I expelled every last breath in a panicked gasp.
‘We’ll see you at the top, Kate,’ called Mads and dimly I was aware of the group receding.
Now I was stuck, my feet glued to the surface of the glass and at any second, the glass could give way. Logically there was a tiny part of me knew the glass had been here for a long time – they wouldn’t let tourists do this - an awful lot more of me saying that it was a possibility. The glass could break, the building was old, the bricks holding it in could give way. I was in a state of paralysis where none of my limbs seemed to want to do what I was telling them, mocking me with their greater self-knowledge. Don’t be stupid. Don’t move an inch. If you move now you’re doomed. Doomed. You’ll fall right to the bottom. Moving will displace the glass. One inch and it will collapse.
‘Kate.’ Vaguely I registered Ben’s voice. ‘Kate!’
I didn’t dare move a muscle. Suddenly I was Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, one tiny drop of sweat, one wrong move, a single twitch could tip the balance, send the glass falling and me with it.
‘Kate,’ Ben’s low voice resonating with urgency came from right behind me.
‘Mmm,’ I said, my throat constricted by the tension in my neck from holding my head so still.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Mmm.’ I couldn’t even turn my head towards his voice.
‘Have you got a problem with heights?’ His gentle words were matter of fact.
‘Yup.’
I heard him exhale.
‘Can you move?’
‘Nope.’
All I could see was the yawning hole beneath my feet and then a pair of leather size nines joined mine and Ben put both hands on my rigid arms,
urging me to look up at him.
‘You’re OK. Come on. Look at me.’
I took in a gasp of shaky stutter breath, I’d been holding it for so long, scared even to breathe.
The touch of his hands gave me something different to focus on and I lifted my head.
His blue-grey eyes were full of gentle concern and he gave me a coaxing smile, squeezing my arms. ‘A kroner for your thoughts.’
I swallowed, my throat too dry to answer.
‘Haven’t we met some place before? And here was I thinking you were clinging to that brass rail, overcome by my good looks.’
Somehow a stifled sob-cum-laugh escaped me and my feet magically unglued themselves from the glass as he gave me a gentle push towards the exit.
‘Come on you, time to get out of here.’ Like a shepherd, with a wobbly-legged lamb he herded me out into the bright white light of the corridor and over to one of the window niches, an arm resting in the small of my back, with gentle reassuring pressure.
I sank onto the stone lintel, and dropped my head to my knees. He sat down next to me, his thighs next to mine, his arm around my back and bending forward so his head was level with mine. Now I was safe, I was sucking in air, panicked breaths I’d been too scared to take earlier.
‘It’s OK, Kate.’ Ben’s arm squeezed me, pulling me closer, his words low and soothing. ‘You’re OK now.’
I huddled down a bit more, grateful for my hair obscuring my face. What an idiot, I was. What must he think? I closed my eyes tightly, as if that might stop him seeing me.
‘Kate?’
Gentle fingers slid across my face, as he pulled back the curtain of my hair and carefully tucked it behind my ear.
And I was a complete goner. The tender touch sent my stomach into freefall and I turned to face him, shooting a panicked look into concerned blue eyes.
And what did he do? He cupped my face and stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. Now I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. All I could do was stare. At him. At his lips. No, not at his lips. Not there.
‘OK?’