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.’