by Julie Caplin
It was only when there was a lull, the number of customers slowing to a trickle and we caught up with ourselves managing to get rid of the huge pile of washing up that I realised how knackered I felt and how desperate I was for a coffee myself. Despite that a sense of satisfaction glowed in my heart. Empty plates all round. We’d done good. Seen happy customers come and go. Yeah, it felt good, even as I slipped one foot out of my shoe and rubbed my instep against my calf. My feet were killing me. With a grateful sigh, I watched the last customers depart, wondering if I dare nip out and turn the sign on the door to closed. It was nearly half past three.
‘You OK?’ asked Ben depositing the last plate and cup in the washing up bowl and cupping my elbow as I wobbled precariously for a second.
‘Fine,’ I said, not wanting to admit to my weariness but giving in to the urge to lean slightly into him, my arm against his.
‘I’m glad you are because I’m bloody exhausted.’
I let myself wilt then, glad to hear that he felt the same. ‘I’m so glad Eva managed to get us back into the same hotel. I can’t wait for a nice hot soak.’ While we’d been busy she’d phoned the hotel and rebooked us a couple of rooms.
‘No wonder you’re so trim, Eva, this is hard work.’ Ben slung the damp tea-towel over his shoulder. ‘And I never want to see another dirty cup again.’
‘Well Agneta will be here any minute, I’m sorry she couldn’t come any earlier,’ said Eva. In between directing operations she’d managed to use her phone to call in the cavalry. ‘And my friend Marte is going to come and take me home. You’ve both been brilliant.’ Her lip quivered as she looked at her ankle which was still very swollen. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
‘Neither do I,’ said Ben dryly which made Eva and I burst out laughing. ‘I’ve decided I’m not made for manual work.’
‘You did well, for a man who professes not to like cooking. You cook a mean bit of bacon.’
‘I noticed you stuck to making coffee.’
‘I know what I’m doing there. I don’t have time to cook … usually. I quite enjoyed today. It was quite relaxing.’
‘Relaxing? How on earth do you figure that? I found it hellishly stressful.’
‘Well you don’t have time to think about what you’re doing for a start. And I quite like dealing with the customers.’ I’d forgotten how much I used to enjoy working in café a when I was a student. ‘You see instant results. It’s quite satisfying.’
‘If you say so,’ grumbled Ben stooping to rub his back.
‘Well I’m very grateful to both of you. Now why don’t you put the closed sign on-’
‘Hallelujah.’ Ben moved so quickly towards the door that both Eva and I burst out laughing.
We helped her hobble out to one of the tables and we all sat down. When it came to it neither Ben nor I could face a coffee or a pastry so we sat with large glasses of iced Coca-Cola, periodically resting the condensation bubbled glasses on our overheated faces.
‘Actually,’ said Ben thoughtfully, ‘now that I’m sitting down and my feet are thinking about forgiving me, it was quite good fun. We make a good team.’
Eva beamed. ‘You two work well together.’
‘I think that’s because we had a scary general,’ I teased. ‘She wasn’t taking no for an answer.’
‘Too right,’ said Eva experimentally wriggling her leg with a wince of pain, ‘Although, in a kitchen that size, it can be difficult. Not everyone can work that well together. I’ve lost staff who couldn’t.’
I looked at the tiny kitchen and for a second marvelled that Ben and I hadn’t stood on each other’s toes both metaphorically and physically. Who’d have thought it? Ben and me? A good team. OK, he’d dusted my fingers a time or two at first with enthusiastic cinnamon shaking, but after that he’d been very good at anticipating what needed doing next without fussing or overcrowding me. He had a good sense of knowing when to help and when to stand back and let me get on with it. And likewise I’d known when he needed help and when he didn’t.
It was a shame I couldn’t have trained my family like that. I’d long since given up hoping they might help around the house, it was too irritating to watch their tepid pace, incompetence and apathetic disinterest. The only way to get a job done properly was to do it myself. A depressing vision of me in my fifties filled my head, still going home and sorting them out even down to a worn grey cardigan and baggy jeans. That wasn’t what Mum would have wanted for me … or any of us.
‘I’d say a pound’s worth of thoughts have just crossed your face,’ said Ben thankfully chasing the unwelcome image away.
‘They’re definitely not worth that,’ I said with a downward turn of my mouth.
‘Agneta.’ Eva waved enthusiastically to a small blonde woman coming through the door.
‘Thank goodness,’ said Ben, ‘I’m not sure I’ve got the stamina for another round.’
‘What are you? A man or a mouse?’
‘Eek, eek.’
Chapter 24
The lift doors opened and as soon as we stepped inside, I slumped with weariness against the wall.
‘I am so going to soak in a very hot bath,’ I said, rubbing my back up and down against the mirrored wall. ‘And pray that the restaurant isn’t too far to walk.’ Eva had recommended a restaurant for dinner and very kindly booked us a table.
‘She said it’s only ten minutes. Think you can manage that? Shall I see you in the lobby at six?’
I nodded, conscious of it being just the two of us again and the awareness of unfinished business suddenly burning between us. ‘Of course, you don’t have to have dinner with me. Don’t feel obliged.’
He took a pace towards me as the lift slowed and lifted my chin with his hand. ‘Kate Sinclair, sometimes you talk too much.’ The doors opened and he dropped a quick kiss on my lips that left me staring after him as they closed and I was smoothly carried up another floor, the aftermath of that light touch dancing through me like delicate fireflies flaring and fading.
It’s very difficult trying to keep yourself busy in a hotel room. I ran a bath. Unpacked again. Had a long soak. Lay down. Tried to switch my brain off. Tried harder to switch my brain off which of course was totally counter-productive. Tried to think of work, which was until Monday away. Two days away, one of which it seemed likely would be spent with Ben.
And there it was, full circle. Ben and all those butterfly feelings humming with anticipation and latent excitement. And the lingering, hug to myself, memory of today, along with those tantalising words, I was wrong about you, I want to … What did he want? And those delicious brief touches and brush bys in the café and the warmth and satisfaction of that unexpected sense of teamwork. Who’d have thought?
‘Did he just say porridge?’ I whispered as the waiter disappeared.
Ben nodded.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ I said a tad alarmed. Having been brought up on a fairly bland diet - pasta with anything but Bolognese sauce was exotic in our house - since I’d left home, I’d forced myself to keep trying new things. Every now and then though, my brain shorted out and said no thank you. And today porridge was not winning the battle of mind over matter. It really didn’t appeal.
‘Me neither,’ said Ben to my relief, ‘but Eva insisted that the food here was fabulous.’
The restaurant was so popular the only reservation we could get was for six-thirty, but despite that it had none of the pomp and reserve of a London restaurant. No one was particularly dressed up and the waiting staff were friendly and informal. The walls were filled with shelves full of small pots of plants and over the stairs was a full-sized greenhouse teeming with hanging baskets brimming with greenery, as if the outdoors had been brought inside.
‘Shall we go for broke and have the wine tasting menu,’ asked Ben looking at the menu.
‘Hello, yes. I have a company credit card and I’m not afraid to use it. Especially not after Josh weaselled me into staying.�
��
‘Ah, she’s back. PR girl. I missed her.’
‘We aim to please,’ I quipped.
‘But I got you wrong. Today at the check-in desk. You gave up your seat, not to get ahead and score brownie points. You could’ve joined in with Josh kicking up a stink, playing his game. And you know if you’d pushed hard enough and created a big enough scene, the airline would have bumped someone else. Josh and his bad publicity was pretty much an ace in the hole.’
I shrugged uncomfortably, not sure I deserved his praise. ‘Only because I didn’t want to cause a scene and embarrass everyone.’
‘Yeah right, not because you knew it was important to the others to get home.’
I lifted my shoulders again. ‘Forgoing a weekend in Hemel isn’t exactly a hardship.’
‘You’re a really nice person Kate Sinclair.’ He smiled into my eyes which turned my legs into jelly and, yes, my heart to complete mush.
‘You’re not so bad yourself Ben Johnson.’ Heat rushed along my veins.
‘And I owe you an apology. Of course, you had to act professional in front of someone from work. I overreacted yesterday. I realised last night at dinner. You’re not like that. Everyone else could see how genuine you were. And seeing you hand out all the gifts, the photographs, that was thoughtful. You even gave one to me after I’d been a complete bastard.’
‘You almost didn’t get one.’
‘Yeah, but you wouldn’t have done that, because you’re a nice person.’
‘Even though you were a moody sod.’
‘Yeah and you’re the only one with the balls to tell me.’
I shifted uneasily in my seat at that one. ‘That was because I didn’t like you very much. Not to start with. Not until I figured out that under that mad fox exterior,’ I examined his chin as if it was of great interest, my pulse tripping a little faster, ‘there beats a kindly heart. Possibly.’ He’d shown it in so many ways.
‘Nicely put. But last night I felt such a dick. Making a fuss at the Design Museum. Letting that prat Josh, who by the way is a bigger dick, make me believe you were just interested in column inches.’
‘I’m not sure you should use that terminology.’ Teasing him diffused things and avoided facing the compliment head on because I didn’t know what to do with it. I wanted to keep things light but he seemed intent on pressing ahead.
‘Five people, Kate. Six including Eva - all think you’re great. Because you are.’
I fiddled with my cutlery. ‘Yeah right, I’m pretty awesome.’ I let the not speak for itself and busied myself pleating my napkin.
‘I think you are,’ he said in the sort of voice that made it clear he was not about to be contradicted.
‘Well you have been known to be wrong. Oh, look. Porridge.’ The waiter was approaching our table with two bowls.
Ben’s fingers slid up my wrist. The light touch on my skin had my nerve endings dancing in anticipation.
I looked at his face, a slight determined set to his mouth tinged with amusement at my avoidance tactics. I took a breath, maybe just maybe, I could afford to let go for once. I could just be. The thought was suddenly liberating. There was nothing to stop us seeing what happened. If it didn’t work out it wouldn’t matter; after this weekend I might not see Ben again. Our paths would never have to cross again if we didn’t want them to. I had a choice.
‘So any ideas about what we might do tomorrow?’ Turning to the practical immediately made me relax.
‘How about hiring a bike?’ suggested Ben.
‘Good plan.’ I’d been rather envious of the young Danes we’d seen confidently cycling about one handed while they scanned their mobile phones. ‘That way we could cover quite a bit of ground. The weather forecast is good. We could go to the Rosenberg Castle. And the botanical gardens.’
‘You can be in charge then, it sounds as if you’ve given it some thought.’ He looked slightly ashamed. ‘Cutting my nose off to spite my face, I deliberately didn’t read up before we came out here.’ His honesty disarmed me.
‘Eva suggested it. Apart from this evening, I haven’t picked up the guide book since we got off the plane.’ I smiled at him. ‘We’ve got until four before we have to leave to get our flight, I reckon we can fit that in.’ Our flight was at six thirty and the train only took twenty minutes out to the airport.
‘Excellent idea, but what about this evening?’
Now that I’d got my bearings, having been here for a few days, Copenhagen was clearly more compact and easily navigable. One place had stuck in my mind.
‘Tivoli, of course.’ I glanced shyly at him. ‘I’d quite like to go back there.’
His mouth twitched. ‘What – a return trip on The Demon?’
A flush of heat burned my skin and I knew we were both remembering that brief kiss. ‘I … the gardens were pretty at night and we didn’t get much chance to explore them.’
Our eyes met. Oh shit, had I extended such a blatant invitation? Secluded walkways. Shadowy bowers. Romantic fairy lights.
‘And then there’s a bar I’ve read about,’ I added quickly. ‘Duck and Cover. A cocktail bar. Sounds very Danish. Looks lovely.’
With a smile, he wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m not big on cocktails, but I’m sure they’ll have a decent beer.’
We ate at a leisurely pace, easy with each other now that we’d navigated the plans for the rest of the evening. The veal which I hadn’t been sure about, and the porridge, even less sure, were both absolutely gorgeous. The tasting menu of different wines matched to each dish were of course perfect and went down smoothly and before long we were savouring the last glass of sweet dessert wine as we finished the rhubarb mousse with pound cake which wasn’t anywhere near as stodgy as it sounded.
It was still light outside as we shrugged into our coats, slightly embarrassed to find that Eva had already arranged payment. She knew the owner apparently.
‘Good job we did go for the wine pairing menu,’ joked Ben as we stepped out into the cool air, but somehow, I knew he didn’t mean it. It wasn’t his style to take advantage of Eva’s generosity.
Now that the rain had passed, it had turned into a lovely evening, not the least bit cold. It was only quarter to eight and the streets held an air of calm and quiet as we walked arm in arm towards the gardens.
Somewhere along the way Ben reached for my hand and I smiled to myself, thrilled with the quiet confidence of the gesture and enjoying the feel of his warm skin against mine. I had no idea where this evening would lead to but I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
As we entered the gardens, the lilting strains of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons filled the air with a siren call, I couldn’t resist and I tugged at his hand to follow the direction of the music.
‘Come on,’ I said, pulling him down a path lit with strings of fairy lights, with a signpost to The Lake.
As we got closer, the music billowed out into the night air and I let out a little gasp of surprise and delight. In front of us lay an enchanted wonderland with an ethereal other-worldly atmosphere. Fountains rose and fell in the centre of the water, flowing and tumbling in perfect synchronization with the music. Underwater lights changed with the rise and fall of the music, sliding from purple, to blue to gold and the surface rippled gaily making the reflection of the pagoda opposite dance and shimmer.
As the music segued into the jubilant tune of The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, violins joyfully serenading the horns while the woodwind section weaved in and out with lyrical rhythm, sending the notes dancing on the air, I stood and stared. Glorious. Beautiful. Magical. I was no expert and knew nothing but the popular classics. My heart swelled as my body swayed along with the lilts and accents of the music and under my breath I hummed along.
Ben put his arm across my shoulders and pulled me into him. I wanted to hold onto the moment, an instant of pure perfection and I leaned in, letting the melodies wash over me. Simple pleasure. Lights. Colour. Music. The pleasing flow and gush of water. And sh
aring it with someone else.
Handel gave way to the rousing introduction of Mozart’s Eine a Kleine Nachtmusic.
‘I feel we should be waltzing or something,’ said Ben close to my ear. ‘And you should be dressed in a great big frock.’
‘I think you might be getting muddled up with Austria,’ I said, my words coming out low and husky at the touch of his warm breath teasing my cheek.
‘Are you quite musical?’
I turned to face him so that both his arms encircled me and sucked in a lungful of air trying to hide how his nearness affected me. ‘Not really. I used to love singing and me and my mum used to listen to one of those CDs with a bit of everything on it. That’s about the sum total of my knowledge. We always said one day we’d go to the Albert Hall to a concert. We knew we never would. Mum would have worried she wasn’t posh enough.’
His arms tightened and he smiled into my eyes as if he knew exactly what my gabbling was about. ‘That’s a shame.’
‘It’s OK. She took me to a Take That concert.’ I grinned at him. ‘And that was pretty fabulous.’
‘Oh dear.’ He shook his head. ‘I was starting to think there were hidden depths to you.’
‘Nothing deep about me at all,’ I said flippantly looking up into his face, shivering slightly. He pulled me closer assuming I was cold, which I wasn’t at all. Inside I felt very warm and cosy, savouring the thrilling novelty of being with someone else for a change. Being one of two.
‘Deep’s overrated,’ said Ben smiling down at me, making me feel I was in some special spotlight. ‘I prefer straight forward and up front.’ There was a rough timbre to his voice.
‘I can do that,’ I said, my words tailing off in a breathless whisper.
‘I got that memo.’ The teasing light in his eyes faded and the moment hung between us, as we stared at each other until he lowered his head and I lifted my face up to his.
