The flight takes less than an hour and a half and the taxi transfer is twenty minutes. In the black taxi cab I take in every view. Every street. Its people. The city has fifty-one museums, fifty-five theatres and more than one hundred and forty commercial art galleries, I’d educated myself on the plane. The canals whiz by as I stare at the bridges and bare trees that accompany them. This is one busy city with the most incredible architecture. I check my phone, I have no messages. As we pull up outside my hotel and I pay, I’m feeling all right. Excited even. I like that Ireland switched to the Euro, a shared currency, it makes me feel as though I belong in every city I visit, even though I still love the tradition of the pound. Christmas is all over Amsterdam and especially the hotel. Red-and-green lights twinkle at the reception desk and a huge real pine tree sways slightly in the breeze at the entrance. There is no sign of Owen in the hotel lobby, I’m relieved to see. I check in and then dash to the gold lift as fast as I can. I’m on the third floor, room 141, so I hit the button and it lights up red. The doors close and a deep voice informs me first in Dutch, ‘Omhoog gaat,’ and then in English, ‘Going up.’
I travel up. Locating my room, I take the key card from its white folder and slide it into the door handle slot. Red. Access denied. I try again. Red. Access denied. I miss keys. Last try or I have to go back down to reception. Green. Entry permitted. The door to the room next door creaks opens.
‘Goedemorgen, mevrouw.’ I hear the accented voice.
Owen steps out onto the narrow corridor on the hotel carpet. I notice it’s navy, speckled with white stars.
‘Hoe gaat het?’ he says very seriously.
His accent is so funny, I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. He is shirtless in navy jogging bottoms, drawstring loosely tied and in his bare feet. He laughs now too, leans in and pulls his room key card from the wall as his door clicks shut and he approaches me.
‘Here, let me grab that for you.’ He takes my small case and we step inside room 141. I don’t even see what the room is like because I immediately turn to him. I can feel the colour exploding in my cheeks.
‘Owen, I need to explain the picture,’ I blurt out.
He puts my case on my small bed and sits on the edge. The room is not spacious. A single bed near the window, a table and lamp and a desk with TV. He says nothing. I stall. He looks so amazing.
His hair is freshly washed, I can smell almond shampoo. He looks bed-ready. He talks first.
‘Ali, look, I know you’re married and I know things aren’t great, but I was thinking, after last night … how about we park all … all the shit for this weekend only and just live in the moment? Drink beer, see some works, see the sights and, feck, maybe even eat a hash brownie. Let’s not discuss Colin or analyse anything for two whole days. What will be will be. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad about what you did. It’s not a big deal.’
The room seems so small and I can smell him so close and I am honestly in a way in love with him. I can’t stop looking at his bare chest. It’s intoxicating.
‘It’s not a big deal?’ I tilt my head at him and scratch my head.
‘Nope, it’s just a picture. A very beautiful one granted, but I know you. I know you will be beating yourself up over it, so I think we don’t ruin our weekend by analysing it. Let’s just forget it ever happened.’
‘You sure?’ I ask.
‘Hundred per cent. Now …’ He pushes his hands palms down between his legs and pushes himself up.
‘Let’s just savour this time together. Let’s go and enjoy ourselves and this city. I hope you brought a pair of runners, did ya? ’Cause we have six whole hours before we have to meet Colette and Micko before we go see our shows tonight. I’d love if you spent them with me. What’ya say? Ja? Nee?’ He rubs his hands down his bare chest. Then he stands in front of me and opens his arms out wide.
‘Ja, you lunatic!’ I say and I step into him. We stand in the moment. I feel completely alive. My head is light and my senses on high alert. He steps back and takes my face in his hands.
‘You’ll figure it all out in time. Right now I better get dressed, be back in five minutes.’ He lets out a long slow breath as he opens my hotel room door. It shuts behind him.
I won’t think about it.
I take off my red coat and hang it over the back of the chair. Opening my case I take out my white Nike runners and my blue jeans. My shirt is fine, I think, as I unfold my brown leather jacket.
I grab my phone and fly off a text to the kind mother who is collecting Jade and to Laura, just reminding them to still text or call Colin if they need anything but that I have now landed in Amsterdam, in case they need me. They know that already but it’s more for my peace of mind.
I move towards the bathroom as Owen knocks on the door. Opening it, I let him in.
‘Two seconds.’ I grab my clothes to change in the bathroom.
‘Sure I’ve seen it all before.’ He bites his top lip and his smile runs along his top teeth.
‘Seriously, piss off! I thought we had forgotten about it? It’s still way too sore to be funny.’ I half-laugh, though.
I shut the bathroom door and lean my back against it. Everything’s going to be fine.