‘You’re English!’ The driver was looking ahead, twisting slightly so that his voice would carry in her direction.
‘Yes.’ Mia didn’t want to talk. She rooted in her bag for her notebook and pen.
‘So what are you doing in Amsterdam?’
‘I’m a writer.’ She managed to catch his eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind, but I need to do some work...’ She flipped open a page of the notebook as if she was about to start reading.
He nodded, gave her a wink then settled forward, focusing on the traffic.
Mia stared at the blank page. She hadn’t heard from Theo since she’d walked out of his house three days ago. Three days! She’d thought he’d come after her, call her at least, but he hadn’t. Showing him honesty had blown everything apart. Clearly, her judgement was shot where men were concerned. Hal had abused her trust and her love, and now the man she’d thought Theo was on the inside, that noble, kind, protective, ardent lover she’d fallen in love with, had proved himself unequal to the deeper intimacy she wanted.
She lifted her eyes, watching the trams and the bicycles going by. How could it be over? That connection she’d felt from the very beginning, the tenderness she felt in him every time he held her, kissed her, made love to her—she hadn’t imagined it. So, if the unspoken love she’d seen in his eyes was genuine, why was he holding back? What was he scared of?
She sighed heavily and doodled a box on the open page of her notebook. If only Lotte hadn’t set her up with this assignment, then she and Theo would still be together. She drew another box inside the first one, then another and another and another, then she sighed again. The problem wasn’t with Lotte or the assignment. Theo had allowed her to walk out of his house because of something inside himself. What had he said by the canal that morning—that she was able to ‘wear’ her pain? He’d said that he admired her for it; that he couldn’t do it.
She closed the notebook softly. That smile...intent green eyes...the way he made her feel. When she was with him, everything felt right. She needed to tell him that, tell him that she was in love with him. He’d said to her once that she was the kind of person who shaped fate. Maybe it was time to put it to the test. He loved her, she could see it in his eyes, but he was boxed in somehow. If he couldn’t reach out to her, then she’d have to reach in. It might be a dark side street, but she’d braved dark side streets before and she’d survived. All she had to do was get through this meeting with his ex-wife, and then she was going to go to the canal house to tell him that she wasn’t giving up.
‘I’m sorry it had to be a Friday evening. My schedule’s crazy; this was the only bit of free time I had this week.’
Eline was gliding into the sitting room ahead of her, long-limbed in dark palazzo pants, abundant blonde hair tumbling down her back. Her silk wrap-blouse was tied tightly around her tiny waist—a waist that Theo’s arms had circled. It was hard to think about that, about the important place Eline had occupied in his life. Had this apartment been theirs? It was modern, streamlined, glamorous in an understated way—just as he’d described. She tried not to picture him lounging on the cream sofa.
‘It’s fine... I don’t mind.’ Finding something neutral to talk about—that would help take her mind off Theo. Her eyes slid over the shelves. ‘You’ve got a lot of elephants...’
Eline turned around, smiling. ‘I’ve loved elephants ever since I went on a safari with my parents when I was sixteen. Three amazing weeks in Botswana! After that, I became a collector!’ She motioned to one of the cream sofas that dominated the sitting room. ‘Please, take a seat. Would you like a glass of wine, or mineral water?’
Two bottles poked out of an ice bucket set on the large, low table between the sofas. There was a glass of wine already poured, moisture beading around its rim. It looked tempting but staying focused was essential.
‘I’ll have mineral water, please.’
Eline poured a tall glass for her, then dropped onto the opposite sofa, crossing one leg over the other. ‘So, it’s lovely to meet you, finally! I love your writing, Mia, and your blog especially. That brilliant piece about what “self” is...! “Nobody sees anyone as he is. They see a whole—they see all sorts of things—they see themselves.”’
She felt her heart shrivelling. She’d written that piece after Hal had revealed what he really was.
She broke away from Eline’s clear blue gaze to retrieve her note pad and pen from her bag. ‘It’s not mine; it’s Virginia Woolf...from Jacob’s Room.’
‘Yes, of course... I saw the acknowledgement...but I like how you used the quote as a springboard for talking about what identity is; what it means.’
She shrugged. ‘They’re just things I think about sometimes...but I’m glad you liked it.’
‘I did because, you know, I think about those things too.’ Eline sipped her wine, her hand circling in the air. ‘I often think about what I was... What I am now...’
‘Were you thinking of a bio for the front of the programme?’
‘No. When you’ve spent as much time as I have in the limelight, being adored for all the wrong reasons, you get rather tired of yourself. I’d rather focus on the designers.’
A relief! She was undeniably curious about Eline’s past as far as it concerned Theo but talking about the designers and the event was something she could do with a clear conscience. It was what she’d told Theo she’d be doing.
