Sleep proved elusive, my mind was far too busy reliving the delicious details of the day. Laughing in the kitchen at Varme. Kissing at Tivoli. Talking over several cocktails. The rather woozy walk back to the hotel. Ben holding my hand. The reluctant goodnight kiss outside the lift on my floor. Turning back to look down the corridor to see him watching me walk back to my room.
Me turning down his offer to walk me to the door because we both knew where that might end. One final clinging kiss as if to store it up to see us through the night.
I turned over again and plumped up the pillow.
On the bedside table, my phone beeped and the light of a message flashed like a lighthouse in the dark.
Thanks for a lovely evening. See you in the morning x
I touched the screen, a stupid dopy grin on my face.
For a brief regretful second I imagined his warm body next to mine, being wrapped in his arms and the delicious sensation of skin on skin. I pushed the sheets down as I suddenly felt overheated. It would have been easy to give into the spiralling longing and the latent lust that received one hell of a kick-start every time he kissed me. I turned and lay on my back, one hand behind my head. I’d done the right thing. There was something special about the build-up and anticipation at the start of something, the waiting, almost teasing and the unspoken promise of what might be. Courtship, I guessed you might call it. I smiled in the dark and turned over again, snuggled into the bed. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? And after that?
I think I still had a silly smile on my face when I woke up and my first thought was of Ben.
There was another text from him.
Morning. Breakfast at 8.30? x
It was already quarter to eight, but I was itching to get up and get moving, which was most unusual for a Saturday morning.
‘I hope I can still do this,’ I said hauling the bicycle out of the rack in front of the hotel. I was particularly pleased by the sight of the super plump leather saddles on the hire bikes, because it had been a while.
‘Don’t worry it’s like riding a bike,’ quipped Ben, as he slung one leg over and then hopped about trying to jump into the saddle.
‘Ha. Ha. Very funny,’ I said watching him make a slow, ungainly circle to face the right direction.
We set off, both a little wobbly to start with, but the wide cycle paths gave me confidence and in a matter of minutes I sat up straighter instead of clutching the handle bars for grim death and started to enjoy myself. We’d decided to ride out to the castle but thought we’d pop in to see Eva, check if she was OK and say our goodbyes. I’d texted her the previous evening and she’d reported back that the doctor had said it was a bad sprain.
We cycled along the full length of Støget where everyone had inbuilt bicycle awareness fields and seemed to move out of the way in plenty of time, which was just as well as I wasn’t sure my rubbish co-ordination could cope with sudden braking, it was taking all my effort to stay upright and steer.
Despite the well-padded seats which looked like cheeky buttocks themselves, I felt every cobble as we bumped our way along the side street to Varme. With more than a touch of relief I hopped off outside following Ben to one of the many cycle bays that were conveniently placed around the city. This really was a place where the bicycle had equal billing with pedestrians and cars.
‘God morgen,’ said Eva, half hopping up from her position on a chair with her ankle, all strapped up, resting on a chair. ‘Lovely to see you both.’ A naughty twinkle danced in her eyes. I glanced back at Ben with a smile. Of course Eva had spotted that things between us had changed.
‘Stay there,’ I said walking quickly to her side and bending down to kiss her cheek in greeting.
‘How are you today?’
She winced and waggled her foot a little. ‘Feeling old and stupid,’ she said grumpily which was so not her.
‘Oh dear. Are you in a lot of pain?’
‘No, but my pride is very badly damaged. I’m so cross with myself for not waiting for help and thinking I could manage with the ladder on my own.’
‘What were you doing?’
‘Rearranging the top shelves in the kitchen.’
Her brief frown was quickly replaced with a resigned self-deprecating smile. ‘At least I timed it well. Luckily, Agneta works on Saturdays and she was able to bring a friend with her to help.’ Through the serving counter I could see two teenage girls bustling about in the kitchen.
‘Good, because I’m not sure my feet would survive another tour of kitchen duty,’ said Ben with feeling. ‘We’ve had to resort to bikes today.’
‘Ben, that’s not true!’ I nudged him in the ribs.
Eva laughed. ‘You poor old soul.’
‘He’s fibbing,’ I said. ‘We thought we could go a little further afield as it’s our last day.’
‘That’s a good idea. What time is your flight?’
‘Not until this afternoon. We’ve left our cases in the left luggage room at the hotel and we’ll go back and get them later. It won’t take us long to get to the airport.’
‘Excellent. So have you time for coffee?’
I gave Ben a quick hopeful glance and he smiled back as he slipped into the chair opposite Eva. ‘We’ve got plenty of time.’
‘Do you want me to make coffee?’ I asked.
‘No, no.’ Eva called our order over to Agneta, who brought the coffees over in record time. She was much better on the coffee machine than I was.
‘So what are your plans for the day?’ asked Eva.
‘We’re going to Rosenberg Castle, like you suggested.’
‘Oh perfect. The grounds are beautiful. You should go to the Radhuspladsen on your way. City Hall. It’s a beautiful building and the world clock is incredible. A work of art. It’s free and on your way. It’s very romantic. You really should go.’ The knowing glint was back in Eva’s eye.
‘OK,’ I said looking at Ben to secure his agreement.
He lifted his shoulders, in a why not gesture. ‘We’ve skirted around it several times. Might as well pop in.’
‘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?