Page 29 of A Copenhagen Snowmance
“Upstairs, on your bedside table, there’s a tube labelled,Pølse. Sausage, right? What’s that about?”
“Oh! Right. Yeah, that must look weird. It’s why I came back.”
“For a tube of sausage?” It must be testament to how deranged everything about her has been in the last few days that Jamie doesn’t look more alarmed.
“Pølse was my cat,” she starts, and realising that that doesn’t clear things up much, adds, “He died. His ashes are in the tube. The vet was shutting, and I had to collect them. One of the few things that can’t be done digitally or through an embassy, as it turns out. Weddings, funerals and cat-ashes collection. That’s it.”
Jamie’s mouth lifts at one side. “Who knew?”
“Who knew, indeed.”
“What’s the plan for them now?”
Anna explains her thwarted plan to scatter them with her grandparents.
“We’ll go tomorrow,” he says, looking at her over the top of his mug. “Weather should be better tomorrow.”
Something about that “we” pleases her immensely. She tells herself it’s simply that two people will make it more of a ceremony, as opposed to the “scatter and dash” event it would have been the last time she tried. He’s a thoughtful guy. She has to give him that– reserved and guarded, perhaps, or maybe just towards her– but under that she’s seeing kindness and consideration. After what happened with Carl, she gets a glimmer of hope that some men can be trusted.
“Can I ask you something?” she echoes back at him.
“Sure.” Now Jamie has seen the source of her odd behaviour, knows she isn’t a stalker, perhaps he’ll be more open with her.
“What’s the story with the woman we’re faking for?”
Jamie’s eyes settle on the faux flame of the candle. Finally, he says, “We had a misunderstanding. By which I mean, I got things wrong, and now she’d like me to not be here, but I want to stay.” Anna is stunned to see him blush. Blushing isn’t something she’d expect on a face like his. He’s generally so assured.
“And you think if she believes you have a girlfriend,” Anna points at herself and pulls a face to lighten his mood, “that she’ll think she’s safe from you?”
His mood doesn’t lighten, though.
“She’scompletelysafe from me,” he snaps, his tone rough, but he takes a breath and goes on. “I hate that she thinks I’m any kind of threat to her, because I’m not. I’d just like to be on speaking terms. Just two regular people, you know?”
Anna’s not so sure about this. “You know, you can’t be friends with everyone, Jamie. Not all friendships are meant to last.”
The look on his face says he disagrees.
She presses her point. “We can’t possibly know everyone we ever interact with for always. I don’t think there’s capacity for that.” She’s dipped in and out of lives all through her childhood, she couldn’t possibly have retained all those friendships. “Not enough head-space or heart-space, to be honest, and in many cases it’s not healthy. I’ve jettisoned Carl for my own health and self-respect, because he didn’t treat me well. Maybe, you just aren’t supposed to keep knowing this woman?”
She can see he’s thinking about this, but the thinking is very deep and Anna sees it’s deeper than he’ll let her in.
“Do you think people really think like that?” he asks.
“Well,Iclearly do. And my mum does. She’s walked away from every relationship she’s ever had as soon as it doesn’t serve her any longer. She thinks life’s too short to tie yourself to what makes you unhappy.”
All he says is “Hmmm,” and then he finishes his tea. She hasn’t convinced him, but she thinks she’s given him food for thought.
He stands, which makes her want to protest. She’s been enjoying the discussion, and simply having company. “I’m exhausted from the hot tub and the cycling. I’m turning in.” Fair enough, he was transporting her across town at a fair clip. He calls for her to “Sov godt” as he reaches the stairs. She’s sure she will sleep well. The hot tub and the fresh air have been soporific. Or maybe it’s the stress of seeing Carl again. That was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. Thank God it’s over.
“Tak for idag,” Anna says, thanking him for today in typical Danish fashion, but she isn’t sure he hears her. She sits for a while, watching the glow of the candle in front of her. It’s the first time she’s seen Jamie properly uncomfortable, and there’s clearly lots more going on there. It dawns on her that maybe she shouldn’t be in a rush to be trusting again.
ChapterThirteen
There’s been a lot of progress made on the jigsaw, Anna notices, when leaving her room the following morning. He must have been up early, and he must also have been moving around like a ninja as she didn’t hear him at all. He’d certainly skipped the third step. Maybe he uses the jigsaw to clear his head, she supposes, as when she makes it to the kitchen, he’s at work; the coffee is on as normal and he’s on the telephone. They go through their now ritual of mouthing “God morgen” to each other, as she pours herself a mugful, then comes to refill his. He’s also been out to the baker, as there’s a plate of pastries on the kitchen counter for breakfast. She helps herself to aspandauer, with its custard centre and white-icing drizzle, commonly known as “the baker’s bad eye”, and scoffs it in a flat minute.
It’s only now, coffee in hand and pastry in gob, that Anna registers the call is contentious.
“No, Dad,” Jamie says, insistent and weary at the same time. “We’ve been through this. My life is here. It’s everything I want. I’m sorry.”
