We walk to the more hipster area of the city, and she gives me an impromptu guided tour as we go. I think we’re getting farther and farther away from my B&B, but I don’t object as I gaze through the windows of the stylish open-plan office blocks that line the street. We walk into what looks like a large converted cinema that now operates as a trendy café. The menu reads like a vegan’s dream.
“I’ll have a decaf Aussie skinny latte, thanks,” she says as she takes a seat.
I order and take our coffees to where she’s sitting, counting how many euros I have left.
“I should really ask your name.” I’m learning from my mistakes.
“It’s Eva. Nice to meet you, Josh.” She sticks out her hand and shakes mine. She’d get on well with Uncle Peter. “You’re British, right? I was reading an article the other day which said eighty-three per cent of British men who die in Amsterdam are found in the canals, so you better watch out,” she says smiling.
Nice to meet you too.
“Is that how you always start conversations, with facts about death?”
I make a mental note not to stray too close to the water.
“Not always, but it’s a good fact, no?”
I laugh at her kookiness.
“So, how did you find out about my search, then?” I ask.
“I just broke up with my girlfriend, or I should say she broke up with me. This was a few weeks ago. And I was having a conversation with one of my best friends about romance being dead. . . .”
Is everyone heartbroken these days? I thought I had a patent on it.
I try to console her, but she talks so fast that I can’t get a word in.
“So yes, to cut a long story short—isn’t that what you guys say?—this friend told me about your page, and, well, I’m kind of hooked now to see what happens. I think it’s very romantic. I wish someone would come and look for me. How strange I actually bumped into you. Hang on a second, I just need to message my friend to let her know.”
Before I can object, she shoves her mobile in my face and takes a photo, blinding me with the flash.
“Oops, don’t know why the flash was on. Let me take another one.”
Is this what it’s like being a celebrity?
“Julia is going to be so jealous. Actually, I should see if she wants to join us now.”
She starts texting her friend.
“So, what was I saying? Ah yes, that’s how I found your account after my breakup.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You doing OK now?”
“We don’t want to talk about me. You’re the famous one, Josh. So you think this Sunflower Girl is here in Amsterdam, do you?”
“Well, she wasn’t in Munich so I’m hoping so. I’m running out of options. I can’t afford to go to Tokyo or Philadelphia.”
“You know, if she’s not here, there are lots of other good-looking women in Amsterdam. And you don’t have to pay either. . . .” She winks dramatically.
“Oh no, I wasn’t . . .” I nearly choke on my peppermint tea.
“It’s OK, we’re very open-minded here, Josh.”
“Good-looking, open-minded—what other traits do people have here?”
“We’re all quite, um, how do you say it, to the point?”
“Yes, to the point. Like blunt?”
“Yes, we’re all quite blunt in the Netherlands. We say what we think. The good thing is you don’t have to worry whether I’m telling the truth or not. I am always honest. If I don’t want to see you, I’ll tell you to fuck off. But I won’t be blunt with you today, it’s your birthday!”
With the excitement of the day, I’d almost forgotten it was my birthday. I presume Jake and Jessie must have notified the world of this fact too.
“Is there anything you don’t know about me?”
“I’m not sure. This sounds like a good game. Tell me something that I don’t know about you.”
“I’ve been flipping a coin to make big decisions this year.”
I regret saying it before it even comes out of my mouth, especially as Jake told me to never mention it, but I am tired, and it’s the first thing I can think of.
“I did not know that. That’s so weird . . . but so cool. Oh, this sounds so much fun. Come on, let’s ask the coin something.”
I don’t know whether Eva is on something or she’s just naturally this manic.
“It’s not a toy.”
“Ask it if I should have another drink.”
You can use your own coin.
I flip it to please her. Tails.
“Ask it if I should go out with Julia on Friday.”
We could be doing this all night at this rate.
Heads.
“Ask it if I should start dating again.”
“I think the coin is a bit tired now.”
“So, Josh, what time are we starting the search tomorrow?”
“You’re coming with me, are you?”
“Well, you’re going to need a local to help you, and you will probably need some help when you actually find this girl. You don’t seem a natural with women, may I say.”
Blunt, indeed.
“It will also look better if I ask after her, rather than you. You look a bit like a stalker, to be honest.”
And again.
“Do you not have a job, or something better to do tomorrow?”
“No, I have the day off tomorrow. Perfect, isn’t it? So shall we, say, meet at nine by the Van Gogh Museum and we can go from there?”
She picks up her handbag and coat in one movement and rushes off before I can ask for directions to my B&B.
Significantly later than I had expected, after logging into the café’s free Wi-Fi—Martin Router King—to seek directions, I stumble into the reception. I crash on the bed as soon as I get to my room. I’m too tired to call Jake and Jessie and I remember I never called Pap back. As I reach down to unzip my bag I realize I forgot all about my birthday cake. I take the now broken and battered cake out of my bag and blow out an imaginary candle.
I wish that I will find her tomorrow.