by Julie Caplin
‘I think you’ll enjoy it,’ said Eva suddenly doing her wise-owl grave nod thing.
All too soon we’d finished our coffee and it was time to say goodbye to Eva, again. Last night had been much easier. Now it was just us.
She insisted on standing up, holding onto the table.
‘Thanks so much for everything Eva,’ I said fixing the smile to my face so that it wouldn’t crumple.
‘Come here, you.’ She swept me into a fierce motherly hug. I smelt her perfume, Pink Molecule, a scent I’d forever associate with her. I hugged her back, blinking furiously.
‘Thank you for everything,’ I said looking everywhere but at her face. ‘Y-you’ve been amazing. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
She patted my back. ‘You’d have been fine. But it has been lovely having everyone visit each day. On Monday morning, I’ll be looking at that table, wondering where you are.’
I swallowed trying to dislodge the stupid pesky lump in my throat.
‘But,’ she said straightening up, her natural perkiness reasserting itself albeit with a discreet sniff, ‘I will see you in London. Very soon. When Lars opens the store.’ She put her hands on my shoulders. ‘But, you. You have to come back. Come see me. Come stay.’ Her eyes suddenly twinkled. ‘Maybe both of you.’
I shot a side-long glance at Ben and he winked at Eva.
‘It’s a distinct possibility,’ he said amusement dancing in his eyes.
I should have known. Eva didn’t miss a thing.
‘I knew you two would be good together.’ She beamed at both of us and gave me another hug, whispering. ‘He’s very nice. Not like that Josh. Give him a chance.’ In a louder voice she added, ‘And don’t forget about that spare room. You’ll always be welcome.’
‘That’s really kind.’
‘I mean it, Katie,’ her eyes twinkled. ‘And make sure you look after yourself. You need some hygge in your life.’
That would be nice, if I had time.
‘Don’t,’ said Eva pointing an accusing finger at me, ‘give me that look. Make some time.’
I put my hands up in a how? gesture.
‘Now go,’ she said pushing me towards Ben and the door. ‘Before I start crying.’
One last hug. A few sniffs. A lot of blinking and then Ben took my hand and we left the café for the last time. When I looked back through the window, Eva waved and then shooed us away mouthing, ‘Go’, at us.
I got on my bike and wobbled slowly out of sight, my vision slightly blurred by tears.
The impressive Radhuspladsen with its huge tower, by now quite familiar to us because it could be seen from various parts of the city including the Tivoli Gardens, was a striking combination of austere and ornate. Built in sturdy red bricks, with rows of forbidding neat mullioned lead-paned windows on one floor which contrasted with the modern windows below, there were interesting architectural features like the two semi-circular bay windows topped with mini turrets and the elaborate crenelated affair on top of the roof, which brought to mind the palazzo in Siena.
It wasn’t the prettiest building I’d ever seen but Eva had said we ought to go inside.
As we mounted the steps, I noticed a pretty, tiny Korean girl. Her delicate dress caught my eye with its full bouncy skirt decorated with tiny gossamer flowers, trembling like butterflies about to take flight at any second. Over the top she wore a down coat a shade darker than the pale rose of her dress.
The ensemble looked rather incongruous on the top of the rather windy steps as she linked arms with a man in a suit rubbing the neckline of his shirt as if it were too tight.
We followed them through the huge arched doorway and into a beautiful great hall, with balconies around the top. Directly opposite on the balcony to the right was a couple having their photos taken. As I looked around I realised there were small groups of people, varying in size, milling about around couples. Two guys in matching suits and ties. A forty-something lady in a gorgeous purpley-blue dress coat with printed iridescent flowers around the wide skirted hem.
At the bottom of a stairwell tucked into the wall below the balcony a tall and rather handsome young blonde man in a striped T-shirt, jeans and Converse high tops held a clipboard, directing people to the stairs. I suddenly realised he was the wedding co-ordinator!
I watched the forty-something lady who clutched a posy of white roses in her hand, while greeting nephews, nieces or some other relatives, with great big kisses. Around her assorted relatives exchanged hugs and shook hands. Everyone looked so happy it was infectious. Tourists snapped away taking pictures of the buildings, the wedding parties and the brides’ dresses. The Korean girl had stripped off her sensible coat to reveal dainty straps and thin elegant shoulders. Her husband-to-be had stopped rubbing at his neck-line but that was probably because he’d been struck insensible by his bride. He simply gazed at her, tenderness welling up and his mouth crumpling as if any moment he might cry.
The sweet moment had me swallowing hard but I couldn’t stop watching as an older couple, his parents, came up and gave them both huge hugs. His mother taking the girl by the shoulders and kissing her soundly on both cheeks. There was no sign of her parents or anyone on her side, so I decided that her family were all back in Korea and that her mum would be sad to miss the day but looking at her mother-in-law to be, she was going to be in safe hands and well looked after. This was hygge country after all. Family. Cosy time was important.
I felt positively misty-eyed but was completely finished off when I turned to find the two men in matching suits kissing each other passionately and all their assembled family clapping and cheering. Tears ran down my face. Seeing the love and joy all around us felt so uplifting, a wonderful reminder of the important things in life, love and family.
Ben lifted a finger, wiping at one of my tears and placed a quick kiss on my cheek before taking my hand without saying anything.
Had I got things wrong? Was having a career that important? Was I missing out on too much of life?
PART THREE
London
Chapter 26
‘Josh tells me you did well in Copenhagen.’ Megan sipped at her shop-bought coffee out of a cardboard cup. She had no idea how much better it would have tasted in a pretty blue earthenware mug. Or how well a kanelsnegle would have gone down with it.
I shifted in my seat, it was uncomfortable and that wasn’t just a saddle hangover. Eva’s chairs were comfortable. Everything in Copenhagen had been comfortable.
‘Apparently, they were a tricky bunch.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘He said Avril Baines-Hamilton was a complete diva.’
My jaw tightened. Megan didn’t even know Avril.
‘But of course, the important thing, the real proof of the pud, will be the press coverage. That’s what we’re going to be judged on.’
I nodded more interested in the sunlight slanting in through the window above her head. Outside a patch of brilliant blue sky contrasted with the yellow folder on her desk. The colours of Nyhaven. Those tall buildings along the harbourside. What was the weather like there, this morning? If it was the same as here, it would be glorious. Lovely out on a boat. Bobbing on the water. Past the Opera House.
I looked longingly out the window behind Megan’s head, wanting to throw it open and let in some fresh air.
‘How do you feel the trip went?’ Her pen tapped on the desk and she crossed her legs and then uncrossed them again. ‘Honestly.’
Megan’s patience with my daydreaming was nearing its expiration limit.
‘The trip was great. The journalists all got along well. They enjoyed it.’
‘Of course, they did. Being wined and dined at great expense. Which reminds me, make sure you hand in all the paperwork to accounts.’ Her lips pursed. ‘I’ve been debating the wine cellar business. At least we’ve got Conrad over a barrel … no pun intended … if he doesn’t play ball we’ll send him an invoice for the wine.’
‘I don’t think you need t
o worry about that. Did you know he’s a renowned expert in furniture design? He got a huge amount out of the trip.’ I smiled to myself. I must drop him an email to find out what he had done about the lecturing idea.
‘Don’t we know it. Several bottles of Chateau Neuf du Pape,’ snapped Megan. ‘And I’m not sure how him being an expert on obscure furniture is going to translate into measurable results.’ She stared hard at me. ‘Are you alright, Kate? You don’t seem very on the ball this morning.’
‘Sorry. Still a bit tired. It was a long week.’
She softened, infinitesimally. ‘Well, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do as well. We’ve got a meeting with Lars tomorrow; you can join us at ten to present the planned coverage report. You’d better make chasing up all the press your priority today.’
I rose wearily to my feet giving the blue sky outside one last longing look. Copenhagen was starting to feel like a very long time ago.
Being back at my desk felt wrong. For the first time ever I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be back in Varme. I hadn’t really been paying much attention to what Megan had been saying. That was a first too. I wanted to talk to Sophie. Or Avril. Or Conrad. Or … or Ben.
Our parting at Heathrow had been shy and awkward as if neither of us wanted to make that first move. Now we were back in England, it was as if the real world had intruded and it was difficult to know whether what happened in Denmark stayed in Denmark.
We’d faced each other, our luggage a barrier between us as metaphysical as physical.
‘Well, thanks for everything. Great trip,’ said Ben.
‘Ditto. Thanks for coming.’ My shoulders had felt very tense. ‘Even though it wasn’t your choice.’
‘Wouldn’t change it now though,’ Ben’s voice had lowered and the meaningful look in his eye gave my heart a quick jolt.
‘No. Right well. I’ll be in touch. About … stuff.’
‘Right.’
Shit, remembering the stilted conversation, before we headed in opposite directions, him to West Ealing and me to Clapham North, I wanted to bang my head on my desk and I would have done but it would have attracted way too much attention from my colleagues. Why the hell hadn’t I just kissed him? Why hadn’t he kissed me?
The phone on my desk rang.
‘I’ve got serious withdrawal symptoms this morning.’
‘Sophie, how are you? How was your weekend?’
She huffed. ‘Bloody James only went and cancelled on me. I could have stayed in Copenhagen with you and Ben. Although I think I might have been a tad green and hairy.’
The phone in my hand felt slippery under my sweaty palm.
‘Kate, you still there?’
‘Yes,’ I found my voice. ‘I’m trying to decide whether to say how did you know or don’t know what you mean. Was it that obvious?’
‘Don’t worry. I caught Ben looking at you a couple of times.’
‘Looking at me. That’s it?’
‘I know these things. Besides, Eva knew.’
‘She knew everything.’ I felt a prickle down my spine. What was it she’d said about Sophie? She worried about her the most.
‘Anyway, it was pretty bloody obvious when he jumped at the chance to stay behind with you. So, what happened? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.’
‘Sophie, you’re dreadful.’
‘I know,’ she said cheerfully. ‘But I need something to cheer me up. Bloody bloody James. I know he’s a good bloke, a really good bloke, I mean how many of them look after their mum like him, but seriously, her timing is … is rubbish. Although I did end up having a good weekend. I went to Avril’s.’
‘Really?’ Disbelief echoed in my voice. I mean I had grown to like Avril over the week, and she was a lot nicer than I’d originally thought but even so she didn’t strike me as one for a girly heart to heart.
‘Yeah, she wanted me to help her make pastries to take into work this morning.’
‘Avril did?’ That didn’t sound like her either.
‘She’s got a plan.’
‘OK,’ I said warily. That would make much more sense but Sophie didn’t give any more away.
‘I met her husband. He is super gorgeous … and nuts about her. Honestly. She wasted no time. Judging by the strange places I kept finding walnuts – see, nuts about her – she did some baking for him on Friday or Saturday. Seriously, the way he looks at her makes your toes curl.’ Sophie gave a lovelorn sigh and I could almost picture her face, dreamy and hopeful. ‘It must be lovely to be the centre of someone’s universe. The most important person to them.’
Ben’s face popped into my head. Those intense blue-grey eyes fixed on me as he said, ‘Sometimes being scared is good. It makes you more careful.’ Would he be careful with me?
By eleven I’d pretty much cleared down my inbox. I’d spoken to Conrad, David and left a message for Avril, while Fiona, Lord love her, had already emailed me a detailed blog post plan for the next couple of weeks. Which just left Ben.
I picked up the phone. Put it back down. Picked it up again. Put it down. I went to the loo. Made myself a cup of tea.
I took a quick peek at Facebook. Twitter. Checked my emails.
It was now eleven thirty. I couldn’t put off phoning Ben any longer.
‘Ben Johnson, speaking.’
Hearing the sharp bark, I couldn’t help myself. ‘Ah Mad Fox is back, it’s Kate. Kate Sinclair. How many seconds have I got?’
He laughed. ‘That depends. Are we riding roller coasters? Kissing? Or is this a business call?’
I tightened my grip on my phone. Kissing would be good.
‘It’s a five seconder. I’m calling … not for me, Kate, but … this is awkward because I don’t care one way or the other, for me, well I do but I’m calling because I have to ask … it’s my job, but you know that, but it’s not coming from me, if you know what I mean.’
‘To be perfectly honest, and,’ he paused and I could almost hear the laughter in his voice, ‘thousands wouldn’t, that was the most inarticulate ramble I’ve ever heard. But strangely I do. I get it. I’m writing a feature on hygge and Lars as we speak.’
‘You are?’ I squeaked in surprise.
‘Yes, Kate, I am.’ He sounded a bit put out.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but …’
‘You don’t really think that I’d go all that way, enjoy Lars’ very generous hospitality and not write anything?’
I paused, thin fingers of guilt twisting my conscience. No I didn’t. Ben was a good guy - that wasn’t his style at all.
‘Sorry, no I …’
‘I’m not sure when the feature will go in but I’ve nearly finished writing it. But I could do with a bit more information.’
‘Oh, right, what do you need?’ I asked.
I heard him make a kind of tutting noise. ‘I’m not sure it can be done over the phone.’
I let the smile break out, ‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ he sounded as if he’d given it a great deal of thought. ‘We need to meet.’
An image of pretending to be stern and serious while his eyes teased filled my head, making me fidget in my chair, idly doodling on my notepad.
‘Meet?’ I wanted to draw out the playful flirtation.
‘Definitely,’ his voice lowered, ‘And soon.’
Mexican jumping beans took up residence in my stomach doing a full-on samba and I knew I had a goofy grin on my face.
‘Sounds as if it’s a face to face, over a drink in a bar job,’ I said suddenly feeling bold.
‘When? I can’t do today I’ve got a meeting but how about … tomorrow?’ My heart lurched at the hopeful lift at the end of his sentence.
‘Done.’ It took us all of two further seconds to settle on a venue.
I spent the rest of the day with a silly smile on my face, unable to concentrate on much. At half past five on the dot, my desk was the tidiest it had ever been. I’d even cleaned off the coffee rings and emptied the pen tidy
thing, and found one pound fifty-six in loose change. Officially it was the end of the working day, although apart from going to the dentist once, I couldn’t remember finishing at this time. Ever. I’d done as much as I could on the report for tomorrow’s meeting with Lars and was only waiting for Avril to get back to me. So far so good. I hoped he was going to be pleased with the promised results.
Chapter 27
‘Kate!’ There was a distinct combination of triumph and smugness in Avril’s words. ‘You. Are. Going. To. Love. Me.’
‘I am?’ I tucked the phone under my chin as I carried on typing. I was putting together a follow up report on the trip to Copenhagen and Lars was coming in this morning.
‘I have sorted it. Breakfast broadcasts from Hjem. What do you think?’
‘What?’
‘You know, a show. From Hjem. Live broadcast. Munching on Danish pastries. Interviewing people. I’ve already asked Eva to come over and do a demo and tasting with Sophie. Conrad’s going to do a session on furniture. My producer loves the idea. L. O. V. E. Loves it.’
‘Bloody hell,’ I almost dropped the phone. It was the last thing I was expecting. Megan would blow a blood vessel. ‘That’s … well incredible. How did you swing that?’
‘Well … you know,’ she said and then she let out a half-laugh of self-deprecation. ‘The honest truth … I’m baring all.’
‘Sorry?’ Avril was gorgeous but were viewers ready for that at breakfast time?
‘Baring my soul, Kate, not my boobs. Although,’ she added as if seriously considering the viewing population’s reaction, ‘I think the Scandinavians do have quite a healthy attitude to nudity, maybe we should take a leaf out of their book.’ She sniggered. ‘Not so sure Christopher would be too chuffed.’
‘Baring all?’ I prompted.
‘About the importance of hygge … and what I learned in Copenhagen. Looking after the little things. The importance of making the little things important, baking a cake for someone, taking time to be together, lighting candles and making an occasion. My producer almost bit my hand off when I said that I’d talk about my marriage.’
