by Paige Toon
‘As soon as I’m ready.’
‘Do you want breakfast?’
‘I think we’ll go for brunch.’
He nods and turns away, leaning over his desk and pulling a folder out of a stack of papers.
Now walk away. Go upstairs. Pack your bag.
I feel as though I’m wading through mud, but I make my limbs do as I command, gathering together the few things I brought with me.
‘What time does your shoot kick off?’ I ask as I return downstairs, bag in hand.
‘Eleven, but I’ve got a shedload of work to do before then.’ He stares at my bag and then at me. ‘Won’t you come back tomorrow?’
‘You’re working then too, right?’
‘Only for a couple of hours. I’ve got a meeting at ten, but I’ll do most of my editing when I get to the UK.’
‘What time will you finish tonight?’
He shrugs. ‘Six, seven . . .’
‘Have you got plans for afterwards?’
What are you doing?
He seems dejected. ‘I should probably catch up with a few people.’
Now I’m worried about him. He didn’t want to come here in the first place and now I’m deserting him. What sort of a friend am I?
‘Actually,’ I say, ignoring the voice in my head as I place my bag down at my feet. ‘This is a bit stupid, isn’t it? Nina’s working tomorrow, so maybe I should come back here tonight. In fact, why don’t you join us for dinner later? Aart will be there too, so it won’t be three’s a crowd, and I’m sure he’d like to chat to you some more.’
They hit it off last night with impassioned discussions about photography, art and architecture. I was talking to Nina and Abagael so only caught snippets of it.
He gives me a small smile. ‘Thanks, Hannah, but it’s probably time I faced my demons.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Come back tonight, by all means. Maybe we can do something tomorrow if Nina’s working?’
‘Are you sure I won’t be interrupting anything if I do return later?’
He knows what I’m asking and holds up three fingers in a Scout’s promise, a smile playing about his lips.
I laugh and pick up my bag.
‘I’ll put it upstairs,’ he offers, walking over to me. His fingers brush against mine as he takes it, sending a shock zipping up my arm.
‘If you need me, you’ve got my number,’ I say feebly, averting my gaze from his beautiful blues.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he says quietly.
I nod and walk out of the door.
Chapter 21
‘Right. Sonny,’ Nina says determinedly. ‘What’s going on there, then? Spill the beans.’
Here we go . . .
‘He’s just a friend—’
‘Bullshit!’ she calls me out, grinning. ‘The chemistry coming from you two could have sent the curtains up in flames – and they’re fireproof, so that’s saying something.’
I smirk and rest my chin in the palm of my hand.
We’re at the coffee shop/bar that Sonny recommended on the corner of his street. It’s cool: stripped-back walls plastered with gig posters, big windows letting in loads of light and shabby-chic furniture. I came here because I basically needed to get out of his apartment before I said or did anything that I wouldn’t be able to take back. Nina wasn’t supposed to meet me until ten, but she came as soon as I texted, bless her. It’s only eight thirty.
‘Sonny’s complicated,’ I say uneasily, picking up the stroop-wafel that arrived with my coffee and taking a bite.
She gives me a significant look. ‘And you’re not?’
I cock my head to one side and nod, acknowledging the truth of her comment. ‘That makes it worse, not better,’ I state with my mouth full.
‘What’s up with him, then?’
‘When I met him, there was definitely chemistry.’ We told them last night the story of how we met at my work, but left out the more noteworthy details. ‘The way he looked at me . . . The attraction was mutual. He was due to collect his glasses the day before he returned to Amsterdam and I thought . . . Well, you know what I thought.’
She raises her eyebrows at me, understanding, but not approving. She knows I don’t do long-term. She knows why I don’t do long-term. I think she appreciates my reasons, but that’s not to say she’s happy about it. She only wants what’s best for me, and for Nina, that means a loving relationship with someone who could be there for me for life.
That sort of scenario is not in my stars. It never has been.
‘Anyway, when he came back in he was a changed man. He could barely look at me and he seemed broken.’
She frowns, perplexed and curious.
‘Then I saw him coming out of Charles’s consultation room next door. He’d been seeing Evelyn.’
‘He’s in therapy?’ she asks apprehensively.
I nod.
‘Do you know why?’
‘Turns out we have something else in common. He doesn’t do long-term relationships either.’
She flops back in her seat. ‘Seriously? What’s his problem?’
‘He has several. He’s never been in love. He bounces from girl to girl. He got one of these girls pregnant ten years ago when he was only twenty-two and has had hardly anything to do with his daughters until recently.’ I pause. ‘They’re twins.’
Her brows pull together. ‘Identical?’
I nod. ‘Nine years old.’
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as I continue.
‘You know he’s a photographer, but most of his paid work is in fashion. He sleeps with a lot of the models he works with.’ I have to force myself to say this, but if I can be totally straight with anyone, it’s Nina. ‘He implied that he’d been on a downward spiral for a long time. I don’t know if it was drink or drugs or both, but one of his friends died back in April and Sonny said he could see himself in this friend. He felt as though he was heading the same way. He said he hadn’t been feeling for a long time. His life had lost meaning. Maybe he was suffering from depression – I don’t know – but he was a mess when he came into Umeko’s that day, and it’s taken him time to get better. He’s still not right. Sometimes he seems optimistic, but other times it’s as if he’s hit a brick wall and feels hopeless. He’s been trying to make changes. He wants a relationship with his daughters and has been working on that. It’s been difficult with their mum, but he’s determined to make a fresh start and put things right for the future. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about work yet, but he doesn’t enjoy the fashion side of things. I don’t think it makes him feel good about himself. And he’s stopped sleeping around,’ I say finally, glancing at her in time to see her eyebrows jump up.
I’ve been mostly absorbed in stirring long-dissolved sugar into my coffee instead of meeting her gaze directly. I’m so desperate to get all of this out of my head and into words for the benefit of someone who can actually talk to me about it all.
I haven’t felt as though I can speak to Matilda, Danielle has been otherwise engaged, and I am not getting started with Charles . . .
‘He’s basically celibate,’ I continue, tapping the spoon against the edge of the cup and watching a drip of coffee run down the outside. ‘He’s sworn to himself that he won’t sleep with anyone for at least six months. He believes it’s the only way he’ll learn how to develop relationships that will last and not fizzle out after sex.’
I’m trying to sound blasé, but when I dare to meet her eyes again, I wish I hadn’t.
Her concern is palpable. ‘Have you talked to him about you?’ she asks gently, pointedly.
‘No! Of course not!’
‘Why not? Hannah, it sounds as though you two are close. This could be the lasting relationship you’ve both been looking for.’
‘I am not looking for a lasting relationship,’ I state.
‘Okay, fine.’ She holds her palms up in acquiescence. We sit in uncomfortable silence
for a bit until she muses, ‘I wonder what happened to him to make him behave like that.’
‘His family is all very normal, apparently.’ I’m thankful she’s returned to the only subject I really want to explore, which is Sonny.
‘But to never stay with someone long enough to develop real feelings for them . . . That’s odd.’
‘It is,’ I agree. ‘But if anyone can get to the bottom of it, Evelyn can.’
‘That’s true. She certainly helped me.’ Evelyn was the counsellor Nina saw when she was going through her cancer treatment. ‘And you, right?’
I shrug. Sometimes I think I’m beyond help. I down the last of my coffee. ‘Come on, let’s get going.’
Chapter 22
I’m so fatigued after a whole day exploring Amsterdam and catching up with Nina that I turn down going to a bar after dinner and head back to Sonny’s. Yes, in a taxi.
Nina didn’t mind. We saw more of each other today than we have in years. She’s promised to try to make it over to the UK later in the summer to see her family, Danielle, baby Calvin and me.
It’s a little after ten o’clock when I unlock Sonny’s apartment door, fully expecting him to still be out. I’m surprised to see him at his desk, working.
‘Oh, hey!’ He jumps to his feet.
He’s dressed in black jeans and a plain grey T-shirt. He’s still wearing his glasses and his appearance is a combination of sexy-stylish and endearingly nerdy. ‘I wasn’t expecting you back for ages.’
He seems genuinely pleased to see me.
‘It’s been a long day,’ I say with a small smile, freaked out by how glad I am to see him too. ‘How was the shoot?’
‘Fine. You want a drink or are you heading straight to bed? I can turn off the overhead lights so they don’t bother you.’
‘A drink would be nice.’
He smiles and pads into the kitchen.
He wants to know what Nina and I got up to, so I fill him in as he pours a glass of wine for me and tops up his water before nodding at the sofa.
Nina and I mostly wandered and took in the sights, but we also made it to two museums: the Rijksmuseum and Moco, the museum of modern art, which is one of Sonny’s favourites.
‘I’ve been meaning to check out that Banksy exhibition,’ he says.
‘You could go tomorrow. It might be gone when you next come back.’
His chest deflates. ‘I have to return in a few weeks.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘I’ve agreed to do another job, but I also need to decide what I’m doing with this place.’ He looks around the apartment.
‘Do you own or rent?’
‘Part-own,’ he replies, getting up and heading into the kitchen. ‘It’s half Katya’s.’
I’m taken aback. He gets the bottle of white wine out of the fridge and continues to talk as he brings it over and tops up my glass.
‘She got a deal on it from this old developer guy she was seeing and asked if I wanted to come in on it. It was in a right state when we bought it, but I did all the work and she conceded to a lower rent rate. We’ll make a good return on it if she agrees to sell.’
‘Do you think she will?’
‘Who knows with her? The mortgage isn’t up for another year, so we’d have to take a hit on an early repayment charge if we sold.’
‘You didn’t ask her earlier?’
‘No, she had to go to work.’ He picks up his mobile from the coffee table. ‘She’s been texting, asking me to meet her and some friends at a bar.’
Over his shoulder I see a tiny red number hovering over his text icon.
‘She’s texted you five times?’
‘Way more than that. Those are just the ones I haven’t opened.’
There are a bunch of WhatsApps too. Is she a total mental-head?
‘They’re not all from her. Word is out,’ he adds derisively, taking a sip of his water and discarding his phone on the sofa between us.
‘All your friends know you’re here?’
‘Yep,’ he replies bluntly. ‘I’m not sure I’d call them friends, though. People I used to party with would be more apt.’
‘I thought you were going to face your demons.’
Not that I want him to hang out with a group that might have contributed to his problems.
He glances across at me. ‘I really can’t be arsed.’
I giggle and he smiles, holding eye contact for a few lovely seconds. Almost unthinkingly, he reaches across and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. ‘Those shots I took of you . . .’ His voice trails off. ‘Can I do some more in the morning?’ Although he doesn’t sound as desperate or as beseeching as earlier, there are definitely undertones of begging.
Why? I can’t compete with the likes of Katya. I don’t want to be his subject, under scrutiny, but I can see how much he wants this, so I’m torn.
‘I suppose so,’ I mutter.
He smiles with relief.
‘Have you photographed Imogen and Natalie much?’ I ask as another text message comes in.
‘Not a lot,’ he replies, glancing down at his phone, but not attempting to read the display. ‘I know that’s bad.’ He hesitates before continuing. ‘I haven’t felt like it.’
He’s right. That’s bad.
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. ‘Before this summer, I never felt as though they were mine,’ he admits.
I can tell he finds this difficult to say out loud, although I imagine he’s discussed it with Evelyn. I give him what I hope is a suitably sympathetic look and wait patiently, trying not to judge.
‘I was a shit of a dad when they were born and – this sounds awful – in the years that followed, I saw them because I felt I had to. I never connected with them. Not until now.’ He smiles at me suddenly. ‘They’re so funny, so cute. And so different to each other. I feel as though I barely knew them before and I can’t ever get those years back. I’ve missed out on so much.’
He roughly takes off his glasses and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes.
My hand is halfway to his back when the buzzer sounds.
He lifts his head and several emotions flicker across his face: first confusion, then horror and, finally, weary resignation as the buzzer sounds again.
‘This could be messy,’ he warns, putting his glasses on and getting to his feet. ‘I’ll try to get rid of them as quickly as I can.’
The buzzer goes again before he reaches the door, and he wrenches it open to the sound of high-pitched squeals and a few deeper-toned yells coming from outside in the corridor.
Five loud and obviously wasted people pile past him into the apartment – two men and three women, including Katya, who shoves Sonny’s chest and proceeds to chew his ear off about not responding to her text messages. Within seconds she’s laughing and hugging him, clearly preferring to party than argue.
‘Guys, I’m not up for this,’ I hear Sonny say despairingly, trying to hold Katya at bay.
‘Hannah can join in too,’ Katya brushes him off dismissively.
Even from this distance I can see how dilated her pupils are – it doesn’t take a genius to work out that she’s high.
The men come over to introduce themselves to me while the women peel off into the kitchen, helping themselves to glasses from the cupboards and drinks from the fridge as if they own the place. They’re likely models: tall, skinny and stunning. One has draped herself over Sonny in the kitchen. He seems on edge, but he hasn’t moved her away.
A hipster named Fabian plugs his iPhone into the stereo and club music begins pounding out into the room. Everyone is talking loudly and half in Dutch, so I have no idea what they’re saying. Then the other man – I think he said his name was Erasmus – kneels at the coffee table and begins chopping lines of cocaine on the glass.
These people are something else.
‘What the fuck?’ Sonny’s voice cuts through all the other noise and he strides towards Erasmus, his face furious. ‘Pack that shit
away!’ he yells. ‘All of you! I don’t want this! I’ve told you I don’t want this and you’re not fucking listening!’
The club music is still belting out of the stereo and everyone is staring at Sonny, but no one seems particularly bothered – it’s only me who’s shocked. I’ve never seen him so angry.
Behind me in the kitchen, a girl begins to laugh, and then another starts up, but my eyes are on Erasmus and Sonny, who are staring each other down.
Sonny’s hands are clamped into fists at his sides and his arm muscles are straining. Erasmus regards him with surprise, but doesn’t make any attempt to do as he’s been asked. At least he’s stopped chopping.
Sonny stalks over to the stereo and unplugs Fabian’s phone, holding it out to him. The laughter stops and the silence is deafening.
‘Get out,’ Sonny says, his eyes returning to Erasmus.
Erasmus shrugs as if he can’t see what all the fuss is about and, without any sense of urgency, begins packing away his Class A drugs.
Katya breaks the silence. ‘What the hell has happened to you?’ she demands, swaying slightly. ‘When did you become such a bore?’
The other women start chattering away to each other in Dutch, rolling their eyes and throwing mini-tantrums by slamming their wine glasses down on the countertop in annoyance. I half expect the glasses to shatter, but they don’t.
They noisily exit the apartment and Sonny shuts the door after them.
He turns to look at me, his expression stricken.
‘That went well.’ I grin at him, trying to lighten the mood.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he says as he comes over to me. ‘You would’ve been better off at Nina’s.’
I smile and stand up, lifting my arms over my head and stretching. ‘Could’ve been worse,’ I say with a yawn. ‘You told me what your life here was like.’
His shoulders slump and he scrubs his face with his hands, groaning.
I punch his arm and he looks at me bleakly. ‘You got to face your demons after all.’
His face breaks into a weary smile. ‘Yeah, I guess I did. Now the sooner I get out of here, the better.’
Chapter 23