Finding Love at the Christmas Market Page 14

  ‘Can I pour you a glass?’ He gestures to the bottle and pads across the clean tiled floor. I start to follow, my boots squeaking on the floor. Heinrich looks down.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ I slip them off, not as elegantly as I would have liked. This time I take my mismatched socks off too, to reveal my specially painted red toenails. Then I take a deep breath, compose myself and walk across the tiles to join him. Ooh, underfloor heating. I smile to myself as my toes warm up and the rest of me follows. ‘Anyway, a drink would be lovely.’

  ‘I have this,’ he points to the bottle in the ice bucket, ‘or this!’ He holds up a bottle of German Asbach brandy.

  ‘My favourite!’ I’m so moved by his thoughtfulness. I want to remember every bit of tonight. I want to be able to tell Pearl and Sam about every little detail.

  ‘You said it was your all-time favourite drink.’

  I’m barely able to speak. I had my first sip of it when I was on the exchange trip. It had made me cough. But I persevered. Now it’s the drink I treat myself to at Christmas. I feel as if I’m in a beautiful dream.

  As he pours the deep amber liquid into a waiting glass, I take in the views over the river, back towards the Old Town, lit with the soft white lights of the Christmas market. The snow, the lights, the castle and the bridge. It’s beautiful, like a movie set. I almost think he’s arranged the snow, just the right floating consistency, lit by the lights along his little balcony. I stare across the river and wonder about the others. Perhaps they’re in the square now, drinking glühwein. I want to photograph this and show them, but I won’t.

  At the front of Heinrich’s building the market in the New Town square will be in full swing with bands, the bars full to bursting. I hear the pop of a cork and something fizzy being poured into a glass as I gaze out over the river. I think about my morning at the bakery in the early-morning glow of the streetlight.

  ‘For you.’ Heinrich interrupts my thoughts and hands me a heavy, balloon-shaped glass. I swirl the brandy and smell its aroma. He toasts me with a glass of sparkling German wine.

  ‘Thank you, Heinrich. This is just perfect.’

  Then he holds up a little glass bowl to me. It’s a bowl of Haribo. He’s picked out all the little fried eggs for me. And I can’t help laughing with happiness, as does he on seeing my reaction.

  I take a little fried egg, then sip my drink, lifting the heavy glass to my lips.

  He holds out another bowl to me. This time heart-shaped chocolates. I take one and bite into it. The centre is soft and liquid. Asbach brandy chocolates. I’m in heaven.

  ‘Do you need to be up early?’ I ask, holding my glass in one hand, a half-eaten chocolate in the other. I’m thinking of William’s 4 a.m. start.

  ‘Our machines are set to come on and I have staff to do the early shift. I can arrive at eight thirty.’

  ‘Eight thirty,’ I repeat. We have all night!

  ‘I could maybe move things to nine, if need be. It’s just a couple of calls. I have very good staff.’ He puts his phone on the table. I take another glorious sip of the brandy, admiring the beautifully lit apartment and the snowy scene outside. The butterflies ricochet around my stomach.

  He comes to join me by the window, slides an arm around my waist and takes a sip of his drink. I look up at his attractive jawline and watch the bubbles in his glass fizz upwards as he lifts it to his lips. It’s the first time I’ve seen him drink alcohol. He doesn’t drink much, he told me, and it’s true. Another to tick off the list. Not a heavy drinker. I’ve had my fair share of dates that have ended with the bloke having had one too many and me deciding it’s time to leave. This is sooo different.

  We’re staring at each other now, slightly nervous yet clearly looking forward to what’s to come. From the square on the other side of the building I can hear a band on stage and the bierkeller in full swing. I shall have to bring Pearl and the others here. Why am I thinking about them now? I chastise myself. I should be thinking about me, with Heinrich, the beautiful setting. I should be drinking in every bit of our first night together.

  He looks down at me and I look up at him. Then I reach up on tiptoe, put my hand around his neck, pull him gently towards me and kiss him. I need him to know I want this, tasting the wine on his lips mixing with the brandy on mine.

  Finally, we pull apart, smile and even blush. I feel quite brazen at having made the first move, but I want this to work. Outside the band is playing and I look out over the river at the Old Town. It makes me feel warm inside, like I’m in the right place with the right man. I banish all thoughts of his parents and the dinner, and focus on now. I’m happy, really happy. This evening, the apartment, the drinks, the view and the snow, it’s all perfect.

  ‘So,’ he says, and my heart lurches. This is it. We’re going to the bedroom! I want to kiss him again, just to get really in the mood. ‘I like to shower first. Is that okay with you?’ he asks.

  I’m put on the back foot for just a moment, but I say, ‘Oh, yes, of course. Perfect!’ We have time, I tell myself.

  ‘Would you like to go first?’ he offers. ‘There is a clean robe on the back of the bathroom door and towels there too.’

  ‘Lovely!’ I say, suddenly a bit put off my stride. A shower first. Very hygienic. I like clean. Perhaps there’s clean sheets too. That sounds fabulous. And a shower will wake me up a bit. Get me well and truly in the mood. ‘Would you like to join me?’

  He smiles. ‘No, you go ahead. Enjoy. It has a brilliant shower head.’ He tops up our glasses.

  ‘Okay, I’ll be as quick as I can,’ I say.

  ‘Take your time. We have all night,’ he says, and presses a button. Suddenly my favourite Ella Fitzgerald album is filling the room. Heaven! I pop another chocolate in my mouth and head for the bathroom. He’s thought of everything, tick, tick, tick.

  William stared at his computer screen. His eyes were sore but he couldn’t sleep. Nothing unusual about that. He usually had things on his mind, the business mostly, but this time there was something else. He stared at his screen, propped up in bed, one arm behind his head. The fingers of his right hand hovered over the keyboard. A message popped into his inbox. He opened it, then sat up straight and read it again.

  That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting, not from Marta. And it was a suggestion he wasn’t going to turn down. He was now wide awake, his mind whirring. He’d never get to sleep.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I can hear the shower turning on next door. Tall, blond, athletic Heinrich is getting into it right now. I can almost picture him. And in just a few minutes I won’t need my imagination.

  I walk towards the brandy glass he has put beside the bed, on a coaster, next to the bedside light. There are yellow rose petals over the duvet cover, and a chocolate heart on the pillow. I pop it into my mouth and pull back the covers. Clean white ironed sheets. I give the bed a couple of presses with my hand. Comfy! I sip my drink and sit on the bed, staring out over the river and the Old Town. The shower next door is still running. I wonder how I should look when he comes in. Sitting here, sipping my brandy? Or perhaps lying in bed, waiting, so I don’t have to take my dressing-gown off with the light on. That’s a much better idea. I may be ready to go to bed with him, but I am not ready to be naked before the lights go out.

  I turn off my bedside light, leaving his on. I sit back on the bed and swing my legs up onto it, then rearrange some of the petals I’ve squashed. I sip my drink again. There are no books or ornaments. Nothing to look at. I wonder if I should check my phone. I put down my drink, which is making me even sleepier – I want to be as lively as I can when Heinrich gets back from the shower. I pull my phone out of my bag. I wonder if I should text William and thank him for today. I put it down by the side of the bed. Should I? I lie on my side, trying to be sexy, but my boobs look massive like that: two huge jellyfish. I turn onto my back, but the dressing-gown falls open. It’s not a good look. The dressing-gown isn’t big enough.

  I throw back t
he covers and stand up. Maybe I should just get into bed naked. Yes. Under the covers. With all the lights off. Much better.

  I slide off the dressing-gown and look for somewhere to lay it. There’s nowhere, not a chair or chest of drawers. Everything seems to be behind built-in cupboards. I open one and see neatly pressed shirts, in colour-coordinated rows. I shut the door. When Heinrich said he was neat, he wasn’t joking. He’s nothing if not honest. I look around for my bag and notebook to tick off all the amazing things about tonight. After ‘owning his apartment’, I add ‘thoughtful, kind and neat’ to the list. Now all I need to find out is how we are in bed. I see a small hook on the back of the door and make a dash to hang the dressing-gown there, make sure it’s straight, and then, hearing the shower go off next door, run to the bed and throw myself in.

  Oh, if there was a heaven, this is how it would feel. I shimmy under the crisp, fresh-smelling covers, my eyes heavy again. If this is a sign of things to come, I could be very, very happy. I must make sure I don’t fall asleep. This is a night I want to remember. The first of many, I hope, with a significant other. I want to enjoy every minute of it.

  As I lie there, with nothing to read, I pick up my phone again. I look at the pictures of today, with William and the gingerbread. The photographs his father took, slightly blurry and skew-whiff. I smile at them.

  I decide to send them to William by way of thanking him for today. Then I put down the phone, turn off the other bedside light, snuggle down under the covers, and wait …

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  ‘Connie?’

  I hear my name and I’m not sure if I’m dreaming. ‘Connie?’ I hear again and it seems closer, in the room with me.

  ‘Uh?’ I catch my breath in the pitch-black, heart thundering, no idea where I am. ‘Who’s there?’ I’m suddenly wide awake.

  ‘It’s me – Heinrich!’

  I sit bolt upright in bed, clutching a clean white duvet to my chest, having woken from the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. ‘Heinrich?’ I’m momentarily confused before last night floods back to me.

  An overhead light goes on and I squint. Something tickles the side of my face. I put my hand to it and peel off a yellow rose petal.

  ‘Your phone just pinged a message.’ I see the outline of Heinrich standing in front of me, dressed and smelling fresh from the shower.

  ‘Did it?’ I’m in a daze, confused.

  ‘What time is it?’ I ask, picking up my phone and squinting at it, waiting for my eyes to focus.

  ‘Eight twenty-five. I should get going.’ Heinrich is in front of me, adjusting his shirt sleeves under his soft V-neck jumper.

  How? How can it be morning? What … happened?

  I look at the screen of my phone and confirm the time.

  ‘Someone left you a message, I think,’ he says, running his hands over his hair.

  ‘Oh, it’s just William,’ I say carelessly, and put the phone down, pulling the covers up higher around my chest. The bed seems barely slept in – his half looks untouched.

  ‘What …?’ I peel off another yellow petal from my elbow. I’m trying to recall what happened after the lights went out. He seems to understand my confusion.

  ‘You fell asleep,’ he says flatly. ‘I took the settee.’

  ‘Oh, God!’ I put my hand to my forehead. ‘I’m so sorry. It was such a long day, what with going to the bakery in the morning!’ I shut my eyes. I feel like I’ve got a hangover, only I really didn’t drink that much. I just slept really, really well.

  ‘The bakery?’ he says, and my eyes ping wide open.

  Did I just say ‘the bakery’? He’s agitated now, looking at his watch and back at me.

  ‘You said it was William.’ He nods to my phone. ‘As in William’s bakery, in the Old Town?’

  My heart is racing.

  ‘I …’ I lick my lips. They taste of brandy and chocolate.

  I have no idea what to say. Do I lie? Say it’s someone from back home? Then I think about the list … and his list. If honesty is as important to him as it is to me, I can’t lie. Last night was almost perfect. He is kind, generous and very genuine. I have to be the same if this is going to work. I take a breath, wishing I wasn’t having this conversation naked, with only a white duvet to cover me, and him fully clothed. But I have to explain it was just a visit. Nothing more, I tell myself. And it wasn’t! It was just a visit, by an interested tourist. Me.

  ‘Yes.’ There’s no point in this if I’m not truthful. Trust is what a relationship is all about and I have nothing to hide from Heinrich. Not that he’ll ever want to see me again after this fiasco.

  ‘What were you doing at William’s bakery?’ he says slowly, and frowns, looking a little hurt.

  I take a deep breath and sigh, feeling I need coffee. My stomach rumbles. I had hoped Heinrich and I would be sharing breakfast together, in bed. Doesn’t look as if I’ve left time for that, especially as we never actually made it to first base.

  ‘He was just helping me out, a favour,’ I say.

  ‘Helping you out?’

  ‘Doing me a favour,’ I explain, and point to the dressing-gown on the door. ‘Would you mind?’

  He hands it to me, but I have no idea how to drop the duvet and put on the dressing-gown. Heinrich seems oblivious to my situation.

  ‘I needed to see the gingerbread being made. He offered to show me.’ I slide one arm into an armhole but am at a loss as to how to get into the other without dropping the duvet and revealing everything that Heinrich didn’t get to see last night.

  ‘But I showed you how gingerbread is made.’ His frown deepens and there is definitely hurt now.

  ‘I know, I know,’ I say quickly. ‘And it was great seeing the factory and meeting your colleague – Klara, was it?’

  ‘Klara,’ he confirms, with a nod, but clearly he doesn’t mix that closely with his staff. ‘Didn’t you see everything? Do you want to come again?’

  ‘I needed to see it handmade. That’s all. It was for a memory album we’re putting together.’

  ‘A memory album? Is there something you haven’t told me? Some family illness?’ He’s clearly concerned.

  ‘It’s an album of photographs from our time here. I told you about my friends.’

  ‘The old people.’

  That grates on me. ‘My friends,’ I repeat. ‘We’re doing like a wish list. It’s a list of Christmas memories we’re all recreating, while creating new ones here. I had to make gingerbread and photograph it, for the list, for my friends on the trip. And then I get a candy cane for the cup.’ I smile.

  ‘A wish list.’ He looks confused.

  ‘Yes, in tribute to our friend Elsie. She loved Christmas. We all said what reminded us of it and what reminds us of the people we love. Something we wanted to do and see again. I wanted to make gingerbread like my gran used to make.’

  ‘And William helped you,’ he says slowly. He’s now sitting on the edge of the bed, so I have no hope of trying to squirm further under the covers and get my dressing-gown around me.

  ‘Yes. Look, Heinrich, I’m sorry about last night, I really am.’ I sit up, still clinging to the duvet.

  ‘It’s okay.’ He pats the duvet. ‘You can’t plan for everything, can you?’ he jokes – I know he’s joking because I’ve learned that Heinrich believes you can plan for everything.

  ‘I’d like to … try again, if you would,’ I say boldly. I haven’t got this far only to ruin it all now. Heinrich is everything I’m looking for and I’m not going to let the mention of William ruin this.

  He nods. ‘I would.’

  I feel so relieved that I loosen my grip on the duvet a little. ‘But,’ he stands up, seeming even taller from my sitting position on the bed, ‘not today. I have to get moving.’ He looks at his watch and then his phone. ‘We have a big surprise coming for Sunday’s competition. The judges will see that we have the best market and the best bakery.’

  ‘Great!’ I say. ‘What is it?
’

  ‘You’ll see later, but there is a lot of work to get it up and running.’ He checks his phone again. ‘Okay, help yourself to coffee and let yourself out. We will speak later and plan our night, yes? This time, a plan we both stick to.’

  ‘Definitely!’ He kisses me, and I like it, and I wish he could be impetuous and come back to bed. But Heinrich has other things on his mind as he heads for the door. I sigh, letting go of the duvet and sliding out of bed into the dressing-gown.

  ‘Connie?’ He puts his head round the bedroom door.

  ‘Yes?’ I jump back into bed, hugging everything to me. Still not ready for him to see me naked in daylight – or any kind of light. But excited that he’s changed his mind and decided to come back to bed.

  TWENTY-NINE

  ‘About William …’ Heinrich says.

  ‘William?’ My stomach jolts and my smile drops. Why are we talking about him?

  ‘I just thought …’ He’s disappointed I went there. I shouldn’t have gone.

  ‘I told you it was just …’ I’m cross with myself: I could have blown this, and all because of William.

  ‘Did he …’ He’s choosing his words carefully. I watch him, wondering what on earth he’s going to ask. My visit to William to make gingerbread hearts could just have ruined it all. I’m furious with myself.

  ‘Did he mention me, or our meeting the other day?’ he asks eventually.

  I look at him. ‘You?’ I think back to yesterday morning. ‘Um … Well, obviously he wanted to know how we met so I told him.’

  ‘So, no mention of my business proposal to him?’

  ‘No. We just talked about recipes.’ Which was true, whether it was cakes, or relationships and their ingredients. I find myself smiling.

  ‘Is there a chance you might see him again?’ He cocks his head.

  ‘See him again? No. It was a one-off. In fact, I promise you I’ll never see him again. Suits me fine.’