by Julie Caplin
‘Mine?’
‘Yes, you shouldn’t have let them stop to look in the window.’
‘Josh, there’s plenty of time and don’t forget what the trip is about. This place is a Danish institution.’
He rolled his eyes and tutted, trotting in after everyone.
I had to admit Illums Bolighus was one of the most beautiful shops I’d ever been inside. Not just the impressive atrium and balconies but also the merchandise and the way it was displayed. Scented candles, expensive scarves, unique and interesting jewellery, coloured ceramics. Designer names, Alessi, Lucie Kaas, Royal Copenhagen.
If Hjem was half as nice as this, it was going to be a roaring success. Suddenly as I looked up to the light slanting in from the third storey roof, across the planes of the wood clad walls into the muted halls of the store, I understood exactly what Eva had been talking about, the very first time I met her. It was somehow soothing to be surrounded by nice things. I didn’t hanker after owning them all. I didn’t want to buy many things (OK a few) but it was somehow balm to the soul to be surrounded by things of beauty, of style, of taste.
It was the Danish equivalent of stopping to smell the roses.
Even Josh who’d been in such a hurry all morning seemed to calm down and I saw him stroking the arm of a wooden chair on a display by the escalator, although not for long. Soon he was back in sheepdog mode chivvying everyone along. Just as we were about to leave I went back to a display of china that had caught my eye. It was my third circuit but I adored the quirky pattern on the mugs and plates.
‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’ said Sophie over my shoulder.
‘Yes and a gorgeous price. I don’t need a mug that costs 160 Krone.’
‘But that pattern is so cute.’
‘I know.’ I looked back at the china. ‘Bugger it. I’m going to buy the egg cup. It’s about the only thing in my price bracket.’
Clutching the tiny piece of pottery, I almost skipped to the till which was ridiculous. It was a thing. I didn’t normally buy things. Not for myself, but I just had to own one little piece of the china.
‘A little bit of hygge,’ said Sophie.
‘Exactly, I love the mugs but I can’t justify them at that price but one little egg cup will remind me of this trip.’
Despite the side-trip to the shop, we arrived at the museum well before it opened.
‘I’ll just pop and get a coffee, if you don’t mind,’ said David almost apologetically indicating a coffee shop down the road, not quite out of sight.
‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ Josh barked, almost jumping in his path.
I saw Fiona bristle on David’s behalf. They’d all become rather protective of him since his shy confession of loneliness.
‘Well, I’m not standing here for twenty minutes with nothing to do,’ said Avril, pushing the handles of another new handbag further up her wrist. ‘There was an interesting looking vintage boutique near the coffee place.’
‘Yes,’ piped up Sophie. ‘I liked the look of that.’
Josh’s face was a picture. They were all being very naughty, even on a bad day they’d never been quite this wilful.
‘I tell you what,’ I suggested quickly, giving Sophie a quick reproving glance to which she responded with a cheeky grin. ‘We’ll all walk to the coffee shop. The boutique won’t be open yet anyway. We can get a coffee and by the time we walk back here the museum will be open.’ Honestly, I sounded like a flipping kindergarten teacher refereeing over a fight about a toy.
The way they all immediately straightened and fell into line, with the promise of coffee, you’d never have thought they had been knocking back double Cappuccinos less than an hour before.
‘Excellent idea, Kate,’ said Ben, the slight twitch to the left of his mouth hinting at a secret smile. I gave him a brief business-like nod and ignored the pang when he shot me a confused look.
‘You are such a brilliant host, Kate,’ sighed Fiona.
That was it. They were up to something.
This time I led the way, Josh bringing up the rear, sporting a very disgruntled scowl.
I had a horrible feeling that today was going to be very interesting.
On first glance, the outside of the Design Museum didn’t shout contemporary or uber cool. Don’t get me wrong, it was a lovely building. Seventeenth-century rococo, according to Mads, and a former hospital which probably explained why it didn’t look the least bit designer. Of course, I was in Denmark, inside didn’t disappoint. The interior had been transformed into a series of beautiful rooms with interesting displays and Mads wasn’t kidding, lots of chairs. Conrad was in his element.
I could hear him telling Fiona about the different designers, dates and the names of the designs and the elements of the chairs to look out for. Everyone knew Conrad by reputation but I didn’t realise how much of an expert he was.
‘You should do a coffee table book,’ said David as Conrad stopped at one particular display his eyeballs almost rolling in ecstasy as he pointed out the design features.
‘Or you could be a teacher,’ said Sophie, ‘you make it sound so interesting.’
‘I know someone on the faculty at the University of the Arts in London, they have a furniture design course,’ said Avril. ‘That would solve your financial problems. You could teach and still freelance.’
I wandered off leaving them to an enthusiastic discussion about branching out Conrad’s career, deliberately taking the opposite direction to Ben.
There was an interesting chair lined tunnel and I looked at each chair in turn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many variations on a theme, simple, elegant bentwood designs with sinuous contours and flowing lines. Brandon would have been intrigued by the craftsmanship and the construction. I got out my phone and snapped a couple of shots which I sent him with a quick caption.
Wish you were here? Danish design.
‘It’s fascinating, isn’t it?’ At the sound of Ben’s voice, my heartbeat kicked up a notch. ‘A chair is such a practical thing and yet all these designs use the same basic precept.’
Damn, I’d been so absorbed, I’d let down my guard and now Ben had found me on my own.
I nodded suddenly tongue-tied, watching warily as he made his way along the brightly lit tunnel, stopping at each chair, to give each a quick appraisal. I should have moved. Walked away but my legs didn’t seem to want to play. They were listening to my heart which was misbehaving, leaping about in my chest like a wayward gazelle.
I needed to play it cool, friendly and brush last night aside. Make him see it had been a mistake, for both of us. Post ride adrenaline and the romantic surroundings of Tivoli, which had been too generous with its fairy dust.
‘Who knew chairs could be so interesting?’
Damn, his voice had lowered and as he got closer, prickles of awareness danced across the skin on my arms. I ought to move away. It suddenly felt rather intimate, like a secret tryst.
I drew in a ragged breath. ‘Perhaps you could write a whole article on the joys of Danish chairs,’ I suggested, trying to keep things light and flippant but not flirty. Definitely not flirty.
He smiled. ‘I think I’ll leave the chairs to Conrad. He’s quite an expert. Although,’ he nodded and looked into my eyes, ‘I could persuade my editor to perhaps give Conrad some freelance work.’ He’d taken a step closer and every nerve ending was suddenly conscious of his proximity.
Damn, why did he have to go and be so nice?
‘Yes,’ I said my voice stupidly breathy, ‘he knows his stuff.’
‘He also knows his wine.’ Ben’s gentle conspiratorial teasing made my heart lurch.
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ I said briskly. ‘Not the best moment of this trip.’
‘It’s been an adventure that’s for sure.’ An amused smile hovered around his lips as he waited for me to agree, not picking up on my body language or words, both of which were screaming stay away.
‘Yes, it has been rather eventful
.’ I screwed up my courage, sneaking one last look at his face. ‘But with only one full day left, we need to be a lot more business-like. We are here on business.’ I tried to sound firm, friendly and encouraging even though each word hurt to say especially when I saw the initial confusion in Ben’s eyes sharpen into understanding as they narrowed and he processed the subtext behind my words.
He had stepped closer and I could see the tiny darker flecks of blue in his eyes. I bit my lip, my eyes pleading with his to understand. ‘I mean…’
‘Ah, Kate.’
I whirled round startled by Josh’s voice.
‘And Ben.’
Somehow, he managed to convey disapproval in those few brief words as if he’d caught us in the middle of something.
I took a deliberate step back away from Ben as Josh strode towards us, his nose twitching as if he were on the scent of something inappropriate. I immediately flushed feeling guilty.
‘B-ben and I were discussing a p-possible feature on chairs.’ I would be rubbish under interrogation. I hadn’t even done anything and I was tripping over my words.
‘We were?’ Ben raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes.
‘Yes,’ I gave him a desperate look. ‘We were. We need to talk about what angles you’re looking at and the sort of follow up coverage we’ll get in the Inquisitor. What sort of article do you think you’ll write?’
Ben raised a disdainful eyebrow.
‘Glad to hear you’re making progress at last, Kate,’ said Josh. He turned to Ben. ‘We had a discussion about this last night. Kate filled me in on the press coverage that’s been promised by everyone else in the group. She said she’s been working on you.’
I flushed turning bright red. I’d said no such thing.
‘Has she?’ drawled Ben, a hard edge to his words.
‘Yes,’ Josh beamed oblivious to the undercurrent. ‘Perhaps we can have a more detailed discussion over coffee later. I’d be interested to hear your ideas.’
Ben stiffened, and I heard him take a sharp indrawn breath.
He shot me a look of pure dislike. ‘I’m not sure I’ve had enough of the right attention, yet?’ Luckily, he had his back to Josh as he insolently looked at my lips.
‘I think perhaps you need to do a bit more. Go a bit further.’
I felt slightly sick at his intimation.
‘Well if you need any ideas, I’m sure we can have a bit of a brain storming session,’ said Josh. ‘Kate can be quite creative.’
‘I’m sure she’s extremely creative in the right circumstances,’ drawled Ben. ‘But I’m OK thanks, I don’t need PRs to do my job for me. I’m quite capable of finding a story when there’s one to tell.’ He bit the clipped words out as if he were trying to keep his mouth closed and looking as if there was an extremely nasty smell under his nose that he couldn’t wait to get away from.
‘Excellent. Excellent,’ said Josh ignoring the undercurrent of tension simmering between Ben and me.
Ben’s eyes shuttered and his face reverted to the cool impassive expression I was more used to.
‘We’ve only got one more day,’ reminded Josh. ‘The last chance for you to get anything more concrete to work on before we leave tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve had everything I need from Kate, thank you,’ snapped Ben and walked off down the corridor to the next room. ‘In fact, I don’t think I’m going to need her personal services again.’
Ouch.
The weather had turned while we were inside and we emerged to solid rain and a grey gloom which felt as if the thick dark clouds pressed in on us. Suddenly the streets seemed deserted as if everyone had decided to stay indoors. We huddled in the entrance.
‘How long will it take to walk to the market?’ asked Josh looking up at the sky.
‘Ten minutes,’ said Mads studying the clouds with decided unconcern.
‘I vote we go to Varme instead,’ said Avril. ‘If we go there we can dry out and it’ll be cosy.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Josh. ‘Torvallherne Market,’ he’d been practising saying it, ‘is part of the itinerary.’
‘And we’ve already done it,’ snapped Sophie, ‘and it’s miles away and in the opposite direction.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Josh, suspiciously.
‘We were ahead of schedule the other day,’ I explained gently, ‘and we were nearby so we popped in then. Fi got some fabulous shots and is going to do a whole feature on the amazing spread of stalls there.’
Fi nodded in agreement, which seemed to mollify Josh. He reluctantly agreed and this time decided he’d bring up the rear leaving me to guide the group to Eva’s. After several days in the city, we were all getting our bearings and I walked along with Sophie, our heads ducked down against the horizontal rain carried by the wind.
It seeped in everywhere, fine drizzle that left everything damp and chilly, working its way into the seams of your clothes leaving a clammy touch on skin. It was difficult to see where you were going, so we hurried along following Mads who was hunched down into his quilted brown coat like a busy turtle.
‘Where’s David?’ asked Conrad stopping suddenly and looking around ponderously as if he’d made the discovery of the century.
‘David?’ echoed Fiona, water running down her nose, looking authentically wide-eyed. ‘Oh, my goodness have we lost him?’
‘Joseph dear, we need to stop,’ said Avril catching Josh’s arm, her face signalling alarm.
God, Conrad and Fi were dreadful actors, while Avril could win an Oscar hands down. What the hell were they playing at?
‘Oh, for the love of God,’ snorted Josh, his hair tufted into wet peaks. ‘Where did he go?’ He looked around, his face tight with worry.
I honestly started to feel a little sorry for Josh.
‘Wait here everybody.’ He hurried over to my side. ‘Where do you think he is?’
I thought he was probably hiding around a corner quivering with amusement.
‘Would you like me to go and look for him?’ I asked. ‘I’m sure he won’t be far away.’ In fact, I could guarantee it. ‘You go on with the others to Varme and I’ll find him.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Josh, looking slightly less panicky. ‘What if you don’t find him?’
‘Oh, I’ll find him,’ I said grimly, throwing a quelling look at Conrad and Avril who glowed with innocence like a pair of bright-eyed naughty pixies.
I’d bet my last pound they’d put David up to this. Happiest in the herd, he was absolutely the last person to wander off on his own. I waited in the street until the others were out of sight and then looked around. Sure enough less than an eighth of a second later, David emerged from a shop doorway.
I shook my head as I went over to him, to shelter in the doorway. ‘Lost?’
‘I … er, saw something. In the shop.’ He pointed over his shoulder towards the window behind him.
I raised a sceptical eyebrow and looked at the shop window. ‘What – in Denmark’s answer to Victoria’s Secret?’
‘What?’ he whipped round.
‘Ha! Got you.’ The shop sold various kitchen items.
‘I must have been distracted.’
‘Yeah, right David. And Copenhagen doesn’t have a cycle path to its name. What are you guys up to? All that dallying on the way to the museum. You going walkabout? It doesn’t stack up at all.’
‘Busted.’ He grinned at me. ‘We’re just showing Josh how well you cope with whatever’s thrown at you.’
‘Please,’ I sighed, feeling the rain running down my neck and shivering a little, ‘tell me there are no more stunts planned.’
‘Hmm,’ he stroked his chin, his blue eyes twinkling with sheer mischief. ‘You wouldn’t want me to rat on the others, now would you?’
‘David! What have you got planned?’ I covered my wet face with my hands.
‘Not me,’ he said all innocence.
I stopped him before he could say anything else, shaking my head
. ‘Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.’
I arrived to a chorus of Kates from everyone as if I’d returned triumphant from an epic voyage and completed some incredible challenge. Everyone except Ben who glowered at me before ducking his head down back to his mobile phone.
‘You found him,’ said Conrad, his voice full of wonderment.
‘Funny that,’ I said patting him on the shoulder with an extra nudge and giving them all a stern stare. At least here they couldn’t get up to any more mischief.
‘Kate, hot chocolate?’ Eva, was already at my side with a steaming mug. ‘With extra cream, just how you like it. And would you like some soup?’
I took the chocolate gratefully, my hands clasping the hot cup.
Everyone had ordered Eva’s soup of the day, a fish chowder bursting with prawns and mussels in their shells in a pale yellow fragrant broth. It was exactly what was needed on a grey day.
I should have smelt a rat when Avril uncharacteristically ordered a tomato juice. The girl ran on coffee fumes. And also when she’d managed to inveigle her way into sitting next to Josh, a lot closer than even the cramped conditions necessitated.
Somehow to a great scream and lots of fuss the glass ended up in her lap, soaking her jeans.
‘Oh, no.’ She wailed flinging her arms in the air, jumping to her feet. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ said Josh also jumping to his feet. Luckily only a few spatters of tomato juice had hit him.
‘It was an accident,’ said Avril, who’d clearly engineered the whole thing. And it was an Oscar worthy performance far outdoing Fiona or David’s little turns.
The tomato juice had done its job as well as only tomato juice can, turning more orangey as it soaked into the pale denim. Part of me had to give her credit for sacrificing, what knowing her, were a pricey pair of jeans.
‘Take them off and I’ll soak them now before they can stain,’ said Eva bustling over. I gave her a sharp look but she was intent on helping. No, the Machiavellian tricks had only one author; they had Avril written all over them. And just a little bit of me fell in love with her, not because I approved of what she was doing, but because she cared enough to try to help me. I’d done her a disservice, dismissing her as the spoilt princess.