The Chameleons
26. Mia, Marcel and Ben
Mia had decided to walk into the city. She’d opened the blinds that morning to see big, fluffy flakes of snow falling; felt that familiar tingle down her spine and couldn’t resist them. She loved the snow but it was becoming such a rarity in Amsterdam these days, especially this sort which showed every sign of settling. It wouldn’t last long before turning to slush, so she left the house as quickly as she could.
After two nights of fairly ordinary sex with Jack, her opposite neighbour and rescuer in the Albert Cuyp market, she’d decided that he came well down the list of potential partners, despite looking damned good in boxer shorts. He’d taken it surprisingly well really, considering that she had reached this decision at one o’clock that morning and unceremoniously hustled him out of her flat.
“Oh well, see you around in the market then; hopefully without your knickers in the air!” had been his parting shot and he’d laughed without a hint of malice. She’d laughed with him, closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief.
‘He’d been okay…’ she decided, ‘...if only they were all like that!’
Casual sex wasn’t a problem for Mia. She’d lost her virginity at seventeen, in a dark spare room, on a bare mattress, at a student party. She hadn’t expected to be invited but her neighbour’s daughter had taken pity on her, after seeing her moping around her parents’ garden one summer afternoon. She’d jumped at the chance of going to a party with older people and despite her self-consciousness about her teeth, had managed to find clothes in which she felt reasonably sophisticated and borrowed her mother’s make-up to make herself look older. Her mother had been impressed by her efforts and after sitting through the usual dire warnings about behaviour and being home at a respectable time, she left the house full of optimism. In later years, she blamed that party for being the beginning of her liking for alcohol. She’d drunk everything that was handed to her and not only stayed on her feet but relished the way it rid her of her inhibitions. It was no surprise then, when a truly drunken male student clumsily dragged her into that room and gave her her first sexual experience. As with most first times, it wasn’t exactly thrilling but she was in control, knew what she was doing and found it sufficiently interesting and pleasurable enough to want to find out more. It had worried her friend however, who felt responsible for having put her in that position in the first place.
“It’s no big deal, really,” she replied, “It had to happen sometime.”
From then on, she slowly built up experience with a series of partners and learned how to enjoy herself without any reservations. She couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, when she listened to her girl friends talking about sex as if it was life-changing, or a symbol of this or that. For her, it was something to be enjoyed or not as the case may be but it was easily detached from love and marriage and all that nonsense.
As she entered the Vijzelstraat, she stopped and looked up at the sky. She used to do this as a child when it was snowing; making herself dizzy as all the flakes came hurtling down. She regretted that adulthood left so little time for recalling such innocent games and wondered whether what she was about to do was too cynical, even for her. Oh, what the hell! Ben was a remote possibility again, should all else fail and Marcel was definitely a challenge she couldn’t refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, she went on. She could always change her mind and back out at the last minute; in the meantime, this walk in the snow wasn’t wasted time. She caught sight of Holtkamp’s window and paused for a moment to inspect the rich chocolate fancies and confections. Chocolate was a definite weakness and not to be resisted. She decided that if the morning turned out to be disastrous, then at least she’d have some comfort food at hand and entered the shop.
Ben had overslept again. He’d always had the most efficient of body clocks and had woken up for work each morning at precisely seven but since the accident, he’d found himself unbalanced in so many little ways. Forgetting to return calls; finding himself in a room and not remembering why he was there; buying things he didn’t need at the supermarket, that sort of thing. It had disturbed him enough to ask his doctor about it but had been told that it was perfectly normal after a trauma and he’d soon return to his normal routines. He’d even turned up late for a party he’d been to. He hadn’t even understood why he had gone at all. He’d been invited by a complete stranger purporting to be a friend of Mia and Marcel; good enough reason to refuse point blank but he’d gone anyway. As it turned out, the three of them had got along pretty well considering recent history and his faint hopes of a reconciliation with Mia had been reawakened. He’d forgiven Marcel his indiscretions and in retrospect, had even been flattered by them. At the party, there’d been no sign that Marcel was going to try it again which was somewhat of a relief, though the tiny part of him that was disappointed had played on his mind ever since.
This morning’s appointment was at eleven and it was already just after ten. He rushed into the bathroom and looked out of the window.
‘Shit! It’s snowing. Better take the tram. No point in taking unnecessary risks,’ he thought, relieved that once more he could put off getting back on his bike. Having rushed his shower and shave, which he hated doing, he rifled through his wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear.
‘Where are we meeting again? Café De Jaren? Okay, something yuppie then.’
After several rejected choices, he settled for what he felt comfortable in and after a quick check in the mirror, threw on his raincoat and fedora and rushed out of the building. The fedora had been a present from his mother and he secretly thought he looked quite dashing in it but after a minute in the street during which he realised he’d forgotten his tram card, he suddenly felt self-conscious, went back in, grabbed the card and ditched the hat.
Willem had thought he was insane but Marcel had had enough of playing safe and had decided to go through with it anyway.
“It will all end in tears, you know that don’t you?”
“I don’t care. You’ve got to take a chance occasionally. You of all people should know that!”
“Oh sweetie. You should know by now. Never do what I do, always do what I say!”
“Listen Willem, I know it sounds strange but I’ve got a funny feeling about this. I think I could just win this one.”
“Oh well, if you must, you must. You can, as usual, cry on my shoulder when it all goes horribly wrong.”
Standing at the tram stop, Marcel felt a tremor of excitement. It was a challenge alright but what could he do? He really felt something for the guy but was it merely the excitement of the chase? It had been a long time since he had really set his heart on pursuing someone and told himself that that in itself was a good sign. There was life in the old dog yet. Pulling up his collar, he saw the number 24 coming round the corner. Suddenly, he heard that awful, familiar clanging again and saw the driver angrily leaping out of his seat. People around him were laughing. The front window of the tram was splattered with snowballs.
“You little bastards! If I got hold of you I’d tan your arses!”
The small group of kids were running off down the street, their middle fingers waving in the air. The tram driver was apoplectic, causing people to laugh even more.
“Don’t know what you’re all laughing at! Bloody kids!”
With that, he cleared the windscreen, got back in the tram and after a deliberate delay to restore his authority and dignity, opened the doors and let the queue of people get on.
As the tram trundled through the busy streets, Marcel stared out of the window at the snow flurries and tried to analyse the situation. There were no obvious plus points. Ben was clearly still besotted with Mia and confusingly, Mia showed every sign of rejecting poor Ben and falling for him. Meanwhile, he had feelings for a guy who was obviously straight and loved someone else. Crazy! What if there was absolutely no chance with Ben? For all his bravado, Marcel dreaded the thought of another blow to his already fragile ego. Also, how was he going to cope with Mia? It had been so many years since he had had dealings in this direction with a woman and she didn’t look as though she suffered fools gladly. Could be very awkward and potentially embarrassing! The weight of negative thoughts had almost brought him to the point of calling the whole thing off, when the tram reached the Rokin and he had to get out.
‘Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ he thought to himself without conviction and set off across the bridge towards the Nieuwe Doelenstraat.
Mia climbed the few steps and entered the foyer of the café. She’d always liked this place. It was invariably full of interesting people, mainly young but not exclusively so. She’d spent many an hour at the reading table or chatting with friends on the canal terrace in the summer. It was this very familiarity that had made her suggest it as a meeting place; it was home ground so to speak and gave her a psychological advantage. As usual, it was crowded, perhaps even more than usual because of the weather but she was in luck. As she made her way into the ground floor café, she spotted some people just about to leave their table by the window. She made a beeline for the vacant seats. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone else with the same idea and hurried through the crowd.
“Oops, sorry madam,” she apologised as she accidentally knocked a woman’s arm but didn’t let it deflect her from her task. The other couple seemed likely to reach the seats first, so she resorted to well-practised tactics.
“Sonia, hi! Lovely to see you again,” she shouted to the girl sitting next to the vacant space. ‘Sonia’ looked up at her bemused but it was enough to stop her rival in her tracks for a second, giving Mia the chance to plant herself triumphantly in her place.
“Sorry…” she whispered to her neighbour “…but I really needed this seat.”
She glanced up at the competition and smiled sweetly much to their apparent disdain and then spotted Marcel further back.
“Marcel,” she shouted and waved. He saw her and made his way over.
“Hi, am I late?”
“No, actually perfect timing. I just managed to get some seats. Have you seen Ben?”
“No, not yet. God, it’s busy isn’t it?”
“Must be the weather driving them all inside. Shall we order now, or wait for Ben do you think?” A waitress had just arrived at the table.
“Better order now, while we’ve got the chance. What would you like?”
“A Cappuccino please.”
“Make that two,” Marcel smiled at the waitress and Mia thought again how attractive he was. She got that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, a sure sign that she was interested.
‘This is going to be fascinating,’ she thought.
“So, how are you? What do you think of this weather?” Marcel couldn’t think of anything else to say. He wished Ben would hurry up.
“I love the snow, don’t you? Especially when it’s like this. It’s not often we get Christmas card weather at the right time of year.”
“Yes.”
The snow didn’t impress him at all. As far as he was concerned, it was cold and wet and nothing more. For the same reason, he couldn’t understand why people flocked to the ski-slopes every year. Why run the risk of broken limbs in freezing conditions, when you could be lying in the sun in the Canaries or somewhere?
“So what do you think? Is this a good idea or not?”
Her question jolted him out of his daydream, where a muscular man was oiling his back on a sunny beach.
“I don’t know. Why not? It’s always nice to make new friends. If it doesn’t click, we can always go our separate ways, nothing lost.”
She smiled warmly at him. She didn’t know that he was outlining his philosophy regarding Ben.
“Right. You’re right. I’m glad we arranged this at Willem’s party. Sometimes spontaneous things turn out the best of all. I hope Ben’s okay about it too.”
She really hoped Ben was going to be sensible. It had been obvious that he still had feelings for her and she had to admit, she still found him quite attractive but she’d always made a policy of never going over the same ground twice and hoped that they could be just friends.
“Well, we’ll find out soon,” Marcel waved at the approaching Ben.
After a short period of small talk and awkwardness, the conversation had become more relaxed and all three of them found that they had more in common than they had thought. They talked about politics, religion and social injustice; they found out about each other’s jobs and interests and they discussed their individual dreams and ambitions but they assiduously avoided sex, although all three thought about little else. After several hours however, they were still there, absorbed in each other’s lives and beginning to realise that their original desires and intentions were being replaced by the genuine beginnings of friendship. It was late in the afternoon before at some given moment they decided they should return to their normal lives and reluctantly parted company. The next night was New Year’s Eve and they agreed to meet up again, each readily abandoning previously made plans in favour of renewing the chemistry that had undoubtedly been generated, in spite of their individual uncertainties.
The snow continued to fall, forming protective layers on the trees and rooftops, muffling the hard-edged reality of the city as darkness fell.
27. Gerrit gives up his secret
Elfriede wouldn’t take no for an answer. She insisted she needed to take Gerrit down to his own apartment for a private talk. Both Roy and Candice did their best to persuade her to at least eat first but nothing would divert her. Gerrit seemed like a frightened rabbit, blinded in the headlights; he didn’t protest even when Elfriede took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Gerrit, you don’t have to do this you know. Are you sure you want to go? This is all very strange. Roy, talk to him. This is madness.”
Candice was confused and panicky. Who was this woman, who had first changed Roy’s way of thinking and now was exerting some sort of hypnotic hold on Gerrit?
Roy looked questioningly at Elfriede.
“Don’t you be worrying Roy, or you Candice. I mean the boy no harm but this is urgent, so urgent that it can’t wait another minute. He knows. He knows he has to talk to me.”
Gerrit seemed to awake from his mesmerized state.
“I have to go with her. Maybe I can explain later but I trust her and you have to trust me. I’ll be alright. I’m so, so sorry to have ruined your day and Candice I’m so sorry about the meal.”
Candice decided not to object any further but did insist on one thing.
“Okay, fine. I don’t understand any of this but if you’re both going then I’m going to make up a tray of food and bring it down.” She saw Elfriede’s expression. “And I’ll leave it outside the door okay but he has to eat, he’s had far too much to drink on an empty stomach.”
With that, she kissed Gerrit on the cheek and shook her head sadly as the two of them left.
“What in hell’s name was all that about?”
“I don’t know Candice. I really don’t. All I know is, I’d trust Elfriede with my life. I don’t know why; it hardly seems logical. You saw how emotional Gerrit was earlier; she seems to pick up on things like that and she can help, she really can. Let’s eat. We can’t let this wonderful food go to waste.”
Slightly mollified by his implied compliment, Candice finally accepted that this was a series of events over which she had no control and no understanding and muttering under her breath, went into the kitchen and got a tray.
When she came back upstairs, Roy had put on some soft music, cleared away the dirty glasses and tidied up a bit. He was sitting at the table when she walked in.
“Was it okay? Right, let’s start again shall we? Happy Christmas darling.”
He handed her a glass of wine and started to carve some turkey.
Candice still looked troubled.
“There wasn’t a sound from his flat and God knows I listened hard at the door. It’s just too weird for words. This is one Christmas I’ll never forget!”
“For lots of reasons don’t you agree? We’ve come a long way in a very short time Candice. Tell me one thing, if he’d asked, would you have slept with him?”
“Who Gerrit? I don’t know, he didn’t ask.”
“But would you?”
“Why are you asking?” Candice began to feel tense.
“Because, I want to say now, that it wouldn’t have bothered me at all if you had.”
”Oh, charming! I’m that important to you am I?”
“No, don’t misunderstand me. You’re the most important person in my life, especially now. All I mean is that it would have been part of the process of change that we both went through that night.”
You’re sure there’s not a touch of guilt there? I mean, after all, you did sleep with someone!”
“Maybe but I don’t think so. I do know, if it hadn’t been for Elfriede, we might be heading for the divorce courts right now, instead of reinventing our love for one another.”
“I’m not as convinced by this woman as you are Roy but perhaps you’re right; if one thing hadn’t happened, then other things wouldn’t have happened and so on and she does seem to be at the root of it.”
“That’s why I’m not worried about Gerrit you see. Whatever’s troubling him deep down, she can help, I’m sure of it.”
After the meal, neither of them had any interest in sex, so settled for cuddling up together on the sofa.
“One more day and then you’ll be gone. I can’t really believe it and I can’t say I’m totally happy about it either.”
“It’s very strange Roy but I’m even more convinced it’s the right thing to do. I need to be back in Florida and I need to be on my own. I’ve no idea why that need’s so strong but I do. Anyway, it’s only for a week and then you’ll be back too. Have you any idea what you’re going to do with yourself here in Amsterdam on your own?”
“Not a clue. Do you trust me?”
“What? Do you mean sexually?” I don’t think trust comes in to it. I trust that you and I are going to stay together and be happy and for that reason, whatever you do here is irrelevant. Remember, it’s a two edged sword! I’ll be back amongst the tanned and the beautiful!”
She laughed at his expression and tickled him.
“God, who turned the world upside down and suddenly made you into Thoroughly Modern Milly?’
“Elfriede?”
She laughed again and threw her arms around him.
“Maybe, maybe she did.” Roy muttered thoughtfully before returning his wife’s embrace.
Gerrit let himself in and switched on the light. Elfriede followed and sniffed the air like a dog searching for a scent. She let Beest out of the basket and he ran off to investigate the flat further.
“I’m sorry. It’s not so fresh in here I know. I’ll open a window.”
”No, don’t do that. Have you got some candles?”
Elfriede walked over to the coffee table and took the things off it, putting them to one side.
“I’ve got some tea-lights. Why? What are you going to do?”
He suddenly felt like a small child whose lies and wrongdoings had been exposed and was waiting for retribution.
“Don’t you worry dearie. Nothing bad’s going to happen but we need to clear your conscience and for that I am going to need you to focus really hard. Get the candles and then come and sit down.”
Gerrit brought some tea-lights and lit them and Elfriede arranged them on the table, three in a triangular shape and another three in the spaces outside so that the light looked like a star.
“ No, not on the chair, on the floor by the table here.”
Gerrit sat down nervously, cross-legged. He knew something momentous might happen but was afraid. He wanted to tell her to go but couldn’t, some inexplicable force told him he must do as she asked. He knew what she was there for, he sensed it but he wasn’t sure he could face it. Finally, she switched off the light and with some awkwardness, squatted down on the floor opposite him. In the candlelight, she looked fearsome but he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She began to chant in a language he didn’t recognise, quietly at first, then building up to a crescendo until she was almost howling. He felt shivers running up and down his spine and the tears running down his face. Beest appeared beside him and licked his hand, so he stroked the dog and felt glad of the animal contact. After a while, all he could see was the table, the light and Elfriede. The rest of the room seemed to have melted away, leaving a blackness, a void that the candlelight couldn’t penetrate. Suddenly, she screamed and reaching across the candle flames, grabbed his hands and gripped them so hard until he thought he would cry out from the pain. The chanting resumed but the pressure on his hands relaxed and he began to feel a warmth spreading up through his fingers into his wrists and arms and eventually the rest of his body. The heat was protective and comforting and he felt safe within it. His fears subsided and he felt every muscle and joint relax until a point when he wanted to laugh out loud. No drug he had ever experimented with had given him this feeling and he didn’t want the sensation ever to end. He saw Elfriede’s arms only centimetres above the candle flames and vaguely wondered that she wasn’t being burned.
“Are you ready Gerrit? Can you talk to me now?”
Her voice was like the softest silk, a young woman’s voice emanating from an old woman’s body. Her eyes seemed like the very essence of kindness and love, he couldn’t describe it any other way.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Why does what he did hurt you so much?”
From the comfort of the cocoon Elfriede had woven around him, Gerrit could look back and see himself as a child. He saw himself lying in bed, shaking with fear. He saw the little fists clenched and the way the legs were curled up in the foetal position. He remembered every second as if it were happening now and from a distance, he felt so desperately sorry for himself as he was then. He watched as the door opened, letting in light from the hallway and saw the figure walk in. He had always seemed so huge to little Gerrit, so powerful, so irresistible, a man with whom in normal life there was no arguing and who in these situations, was even more intimidating. He looked at Elfriede and she nodded, urging him to continue his thoughts. The man was wearing underpants only and came and sat down on the side of the bed.
“Hallo son.”
“Hallo daddy.” He could hear the trembling in his own voice.
There were rarely more words spoken. The adult Gerrit could feel the sheets being pulled back off his body and the warmth of his father’s hand as he stroked his legs. He watched as his father went through the routine with which he was so familiar. He felt the sensations of how it felt when his father made him touch him and stroke him and the guilt of how certain things seemed pleasurable. He experienced the pain again and the crushing weight of his father’s body and he struggled to break free of the vision. Elfriede’s hands seemed to hold him in place, keep him from escaping the memories. He cried and shouted and begged her to let him go but she kept him there until he’d lived through it all again. When it was all over, he was aching inside and weeping uncontrollably. These were his deepest secrets and this woman was cruelly exposing them and stripping away the years of protective bandage he had wound around them.
“Now, watch, look at yourself again.”
Her voice was insistent and broke through his resistance. The scene began to reappear and he yelled out in futile protest. Exactly the same events occurred in exactly the same order until the moment when his father began to caress his bottom. Then he saw little Gerrit undergo a change. The fear disappeared from his face and was replaced with anger. He watched as the boy gripped his father’s hand and effortlessly removed it. He saw the surprise in his father’s eyes and began to rejoice, as the child gradually became master of the man. Little Gerrit seemed to grow and grow until he matched his father for size. The boy’s fist was raised and he watched as it pounded into the man’s face. The revenge was merciless and Gerrit grew more and more euphoric as the hated memory was beaten down but just as the boy seemed about to deliver the coup de grace, he shouted out.
“No, stop! Stop him! It’s enough.”
Elfriede froze the vision.
“Are you sure? Are you cured of these nightmares? You can kill him if you want. You can remove him for good and eliminate the evil forever.”
“No, no, I loved my Dad. I love him still. The only thing is, now I don’t hate him any more.”
“Good, good. You are cured. You won’t have this pain any more Gerrit. All those dreams, those terrifying nights. They’re gone forever. You have a lot of good in you boy. I might have finished it completely if it had been me but you have a strong Kra, a forgiving Kra. I have a lot of hope for you. You have lived for far too long with this burden; it has affected everything you’ve done but from now on you will feel different about life. Many chances will come your way and now you will be able to take them, whereas before, so many possibilities were blocked for you. How do you feel?”
He had hardly noticed that she had released his hands and the all-embracing warmth had gone. Beest was furiously licking his hands and begging to be scratched.
“Hungry! I feel hungry.”
She laughed and got up to fetch the tray of food Candice had left but a minute ago.
Mia had decided to walk into the city. She’d opened the blinds that morning to see big, fluffy flakes of snow falling; felt that familiar tingle down her spine and couldn’t resist them. She loved the snow but it was becoming such a rarity in Amsterdam these days, especially this sort which showed every sign of settling. It wouldn’t last long before turning to slush, so she left the house as quickly as she could.
After two nights of fairly ordinary sex with Jack, her opposite neighbour and rescuer in the Albert Cuyp market, she’d decided that he came well down the list of potential partners, despite looking damned good in boxer shorts. He’d taken it surprisingly well really, considering that she had reached this decision at one o’clock that morning and unceremoniously hustled him out of her flat.
“Oh well, see you around in the market then; hopefully without your knickers in the air!” had been his parting shot and he’d laughed without a hint of malice. She’d laughed with him, closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief.
‘He’d been okay…’ she decided, ‘...if only they were all like that!’
Casual sex wasn’t a problem for Mia. She’d lost her virginity at seventeen, in a dark spare room, on a bare mattress, at a student party. She hadn’t expected to be invited but her neighbour’s daughter had taken pity on her, after seeing her moping around her parents’ garden one summer afternoon. She’d jumped at the chance of going to a party with older people and despite her self-consciousness about her teeth, had managed to find clothes in which she felt reasonably sophisticated and borrowed her mother’s make-up to make herself look older. Her mother had been impressed by her efforts and after sitting through the usual dire warnings about behaviour and being home at a respectable time, she left the house full of optimism. In later years, she blamed that party for being the beginning of her liking for alcohol. She’d drunk everything that was handed to her and not only stayed on her feet but relished the way it rid her of her inhibitions. It was no surprise then, when a truly drunken male student clumsily dragged her into that room and gave her her first sexual experience. As with most first times, it wasn’t exactly thrilling but she was in control, knew what she was doing and found it sufficiently interesting and pleasurable enough to want to find out more. It had worried her friend however, who felt responsible for having put her in that position in the first place.
“It’s no big deal, really,” she replied, “It had to happen sometime.”
From then on, she slowly built up experience with a series of partners and learned how to enjoy herself without any reservations. She couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, when she listened to her girl friends talking about sex as if it was life-changing, or a symbol of this or that. For her, it was something to be enjoyed or not as the case may be but it was easily detached from love and marriage and all that nonsense.
As she entered the Vijzelstraat, she stopped and looked up at the sky. She used to do this as a child when it was snowing; making herself dizzy as all the flakes came hurtling down. She regretted that adulthood left so little time for recalling such innocent games and wondered whether what she was about to do was too cynical, even for her. Oh, what the hell! Ben was a remote possibility again, should all else fail and Marcel was definitely a challenge she couldn’t refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, she went on. She could always change her mind and back out at the last minute; in the meantime, this walk in the snow wasn’t wasted time. She caught sight of Holtkamp’s window and paused for a moment to inspect the rich chocolate fancies and confections. Chocolate was a definite weakness and not to be resisted. She decided that if the morning turned out to be disastrous, then at least she’d have some comfort food at hand and entered the shop.
Ben had overslept again. He’d always had the most efficient of body clocks and had woken up for work each morning at precisely seven but since the accident, he’d found himself unbalanced in so many little ways. Forgetting to return calls; finding himself in a room and not remembering why he was there; buying things he didn’t need at the supermarket, that sort of thing. It had disturbed him enough to ask his doctor about it but had been told that it was perfectly normal after a trauma and he’d soon return to his normal routines. He’d even turned up late for a party he’d been to. He hadn’t even understood why he had gone at all. He’d been invited by a complete stranger purporting to be a friend of Mia and Marcel; good enough reason to refuse point blank but he’d gone anyway. As it turned out, the three of them had got along pretty well considering recent history and his faint hopes of a reconciliation with Mia had been reawakened. He’d forgiven Marcel his indiscretions and in retrospect, had even been flattered by them. At the party, there’d been no sign that Marcel was going to try it again which was somewhat of a relief, though the tiny part of him that was disappointed had played on his mind ever since.
This morning’s appointment was at eleven and it was already just after ten. He rushed into the bathroom and looked out of the window.
‘Shit! It’s snowing. Better take the tram. No point in taking unnecessary risks,’ he thought, relieved that once more he could put off getting back on his bike. Having rushed his shower and shave, which he hated doing, he rifled through his wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear.
‘Where are we meeting again? Café De Jaren? Okay, something yuppie then.’
After several rejected choices, he settled for what he felt comfortable in and after a quick check in the mirror, threw on his raincoat and fedora and rushed out of the building. The fedora had been a present from his mother and he secretly thought he looked quite dashing in it but after a minute in the street during which he realised he’d forgotten his tram card, he suddenly felt self-conscious, went back in, grabbed the card and ditched the hat.
Willem had thought he was insane but Marcel had had enough of playing safe and had decided to go through with it anyway.
“It will all end in tears, you know that don’t you?”
“I don’t care. You’ve got to take a chance occasionally. You of all people should know that!”
“Oh sweetie. You should know by now. Never do what I do, always do what I say!”
“Listen Willem, I know it sounds strange but I’ve got a funny feeling about this. I think I could just win this one.”
“Oh well, if you must, you must. You can, as usual, cry on my shoulder when it all goes horribly wrong.”
Standing at the tram stop, Marcel felt a tremor of excitement. It was a challenge alright but what could he do? He really felt something for the guy but was it merely the excitement of the chase? It had been a long time since he had really set his heart on pursuing someone and told himself that that in itself was a good sign. There was life in the old dog yet. Pulling up his collar, he saw the number 24 coming round the corner. Suddenly, he heard that awful, familiar clanging again and saw the driver angrily leaping out of his seat. People around him were laughing. The front window of the tram was splattered with snowballs.
“You little bastards! If I got hold of you I’d tan your arses!”
The small group of kids were running off down the street, their middle fingers waving in the air. The tram driver was apoplectic, causing people to laugh even more.
“Don’t know what you’re all laughing at! Bloody kids!”
With that, he cleared the windscreen, got back in the tram and after a deliberate delay to restore his authority and dignity, opened the doors and let the queue of people get on.
As the tram trundled through the busy streets, Marcel stared out of the window at the snow flurries and tried to analyse the situation. There were no obvious plus points. Ben was clearly still besotted with Mia and confusingly, Mia showed every sign of rejecting poor Ben and falling for him. Meanwhile, he had feelings for a guy who was obviously straight and loved someone else. Crazy! What if there was absolutely no chance with Ben? For all his bravado, Marcel dreaded the thought of another blow to his already fragile ego. Also, how was he going to cope with Mia? It had been so many years since he had had dealings in this direction with a woman and she didn’t look as though she suffered fools gladly. Could be very awkward and potentially embarrassing! The weight of negative thoughts had almost brought him to the point of calling the whole thing off, when the tram reached the Rokin and he had to get out.
‘Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ he thought to himself without conviction and set off across the bridge towards the Nieuwe Doelenstraat.
Mia climbed the few steps and entered the foyer of the café. She’d always liked this place. It was invariably full of interesting people, mainly young but not exclusively so. She’d spent many an hour at the reading table or chatting with friends on the canal terrace in the summer. It was this very familiarity that had made her suggest it as a meeting place; it was home ground so to speak and gave her a psychological advantage. As usual, it was crowded, perhaps even more than usual because of the weather but she was in luck. As she made her way into the ground floor café, she spotted some people just about to leave their table by the window. She made a beeline for the vacant seats. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone else with the same idea and hurried through the crowd.
“Oops, sorry madam,” she apologised as she accidentally knocked a woman’s arm but didn’t let it deflect her from her task. The other couple seemed likely to reach the seats first, so she resorted to well-practised tactics.
“Sonia, hi! Lovely to see you again,” she shouted to the girl sitting next to the vacant space. ‘Sonia’ looked up at her bemused but it was enough to stop her rival in her tracks for a second, giving Mia the chance to plant herself triumphantly in her place.
“Sorry…” she whispered to her neighbour “…but I really needed this seat.”
She glanced up at the competition and smiled sweetly much to their apparent disdain and then spotted Marcel further back.
“Marcel,” she shouted and waved. He saw her and made his way over.
“Hi, am I late?”
“No, actually perfect timing. I just managed to get some seats. Have you seen Ben?”
“No, not yet. God, it’s busy isn’t it?”
“Must be the weather driving them all inside. Shall we order now, or wait for Ben do you think?” A waitress had just arrived at the table.
“Better order now, while we’ve got the chance. What would you like?”
“A Cappuccino please.”
“Make that two,” Marcel smiled at the waitress and Mia thought again how attractive he was. She got that funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, a sure sign that she was interested.
‘This is going to be fascinating,’ she thought.
“So, how are you? What do you think of this weather?” Marcel couldn’t think of anything else to say. He wished Ben would hurry up.
“I love the snow, don’t you? Especially when it’s like this. It’s not often we get Christmas card weather at the right time of year.”
“Yes.”
The snow didn’t impress him at all. As far as he was concerned, it was cold and wet and nothing more. For the same reason, he couldn’t understand why people flocked to the ski-slopes every year. Why run the risk of broken limbs in freezing conditions, when you could be lying in the sun in the Canaries or somewhere?
“So what do you think? Is this a good idea or not?”
Her question jolted him out of his daydream, where a muscular man was oiling his back on a sunny beach.
“I don’t know. Why not? It’s always nice to make new friends. If it doesn’t click, we can always go our separate ways, nothing lost.”
She smiled warmly at him. She didn’t know that he was outlining his philosophy regarding Ben.
“Right. You’re right. I’m glad we arranged this at Willem’s party. Sometimes spontaneous things turn out the best of all. I hope Ben’s okay about it too.”
She really hoped Ben was going to be sensible. It had been obvious that he still had feelings for her and she had to admit, she still found him quite attractive but she’d always made a policy of never going over the same ground twice and hoped that they could be just friends.
“Well, we’ll find out soon,” Marcel waved at the approaching Ben.
After a short period of small talk and awkwardness, the conversation had become more relaxed and all three of them found that they had more in common than they had thought. They talked about politics, religion and social injustice; they found out about each other’s jobs and interests and they discussed their individual dreams and ambitions but they assiduously avoided sex, although all three thought about little else. After several hours however, they were still there, absorbed in each other’s lives and beginning to realise that their original desires and intentions were being replaced by the genuine beginnings of friendship. It was late in the afternoon before at some given moment they decided they should return to their normal lives and reluctantly parted company. The next night was New Year’s Eve and they agreed to meet up again, each readily abandoning previously made plans in favour of renewing the chemistry that had undoubtedly been generated, in spite of their individual uncertainties.
The snow continued to fall, forming protective layers on the trees and rooftops, muffling the hard-edged reality of the city as darkness fell.
27. Gerrit gives up his secret
Elfriede wouldn’t take no for an answer. She insisted she needed to take Gerrit down to his own apartment for a private talk. Both Roy and Candice did their best to persuade her to at least eat first but nothing would divert her. Gerrit seemed like a frightened rabbit, blinded in the headlights; he didn’t protest even when Elfriede took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet.
“Gerrit, you don’t have to do this you know. Are you sure you want to go? This is all very strange. Roy, talk to him. This is madness.”
Candice was confused and panicky. Who was this woman, who had first changed Roy’s way of thinking and now was exerting some sort of hypnotic hold on Gerrit?
Roy looked questioningly at Elfriede.
“Don’t you be worrying Roy, or you Candice. I mean the boy no harm but this is urgent, so urgent that it can’t wait another minute. He knows. He knows he has to talk to me.”
Gerrit seemed to awake from his mesmerized state.
“I have to go with her. Maybe I can explain later but I trust her and you have to trust me. I’ll be alright. I’m so, so sorry to have ruined your day and Candice I’m so sorry about the meal.”
Candice decided not to object any further but did insist on one thing.
“Okay, fine. I don’t understand any of this but if you’re both going then I’m going to make up a tray of food and bring it down.” She saw Elfriede’s expression. “And I’ll leave it outside the door okay but he has to eat, he’s had far too much to drink on an empty stomach.”
With that, she kissed Gerrit on the cheek and shook her head sadly as the two of them left.
“What in hell’s name was all that about?”
“I don’t know Candice. I really don’t. All I know is, I’d trust Elfriede with my life. I don’t know why; it hardly seems logical. You saw how emotional Gerrit was earlier; she seems to pick up on things like that and she can help, she really can. Let’s eat. We can’t let this wonderful food go to waste.”
Slightly mollified by his implied compliment, Candice finally accepted that this was a series of events over which she had no control and no understanding and muttering under her breath, went into the kitchen and got a tray.
When she came back upstairs, Roy had put on some soft music, cleared away the dirty glasses and tidied up a bit. He was sitting at the table when she walked in.
“Was it okay? Right, let’s start again shall we? Happy Christmas darling.”
He handed her a glass of wine and started to carve some turkey.
Candice still looked troubled.
“There wasn’t a sound from his flat and God knows I listened hard at the door. It’s just too weird for words. This is one Christmas I’ll never forget!”
“For lots of reasons don’t you agree? We’ve come a long way in a very short time Candice. Tell me one thing, if he’d asked, would you have slept with him?”
“Who Gerrit? I don’t know, he didn’t ask.”
“But would you?”
“Why are you asking?” Candice began to feel tense.
“Because, I want to say now, that it wouldn’t have bothered me at all if you had.”
”Oh, charming! I’m that important to you am I?”
“No, don’t misunderstand me. You’re the most important person in my life, especially now. All I mean is that it would have been part of the process of change that we both went through that night.”
You’re sure there’s not a touch of guilt there? I mean, after all, you did sleep with someone!”
“Maybe but I don’t think so. I do know, if it hadn’t been for Elfriede, we might be heading for the divorce courts right now, instead of reinventing our love for one another.”
“I’m not as convinced by this woman as you are Roy but perhaps you’re right; if one thing hadn’t happened, then other things wouldn’t have happened and so on and she does seem to be at the root of it.”
“That’s why I’m not worried about Gerrit you see. Whatever’s troubling him deep down, she can help, I’m sure of it.”
After the meal, neither of them had any interest in sex, so settled for cuddling up together on the sofa.
“One more day and then you’ll be gone. I can’t really believe it and I can’t say I’m totally happy about it either.”
“It’s very strange Roy but I’m even more convinced it’s the right thing to do. I need to be back in Florida and I need to be on my own. I’ve no idea why that need’s so strong but I do. Anyway, it’s only for a week and then you’ll be back too. Have you any idea what you’re going to do with yourself here in Amsterdam on your own?”
“Not a clue. Do you trust me?”
“What? Do you mean sexually?” I don’t think trust comes in to it. I trust that you and I are going to stay together and be happy and for that reason, whatever you do here is irrelevant. Remember, it’s a two edged sword! I’ll be back amongst the tanned and the beautiful!”
She laughed at his expression and tickled him.
“God, who turned the world upside down and suddenly made you into Thoroughly Modern Milly?’
“Elfriede?”
She laughed again and threw her arms around him.
“Maybe, maybe she did.” Roy muttered thoughtfully before returning his wife’s embrace.
Gerrit let himself in and switched on the light. Elfriede followed and sniffed the air like a dog searching for a scent. She let Beest out of the basket and he ran off to investigate the flat further.
“I’m sorry. It’s not so fresh in here I know. I’ll open a window.”
”No, don’t do that. Have you got some candles?”
Elfriede walked over to the coffee table and took the things off it, putting them to one side.
“I’ve got some tea-lights. Why? What are you going to do?”
He suddenly felt like a small child whose lies and wrongdoings had been exposed and was waiting for retribution.
“Don’t you worry dearie. Nothing bad’s going to happen but we need to clear your conscience and for that I am going to need you to focus really hard. Get the candles and then come and sit down.”
Gerrit brought some tea-lights and lit them and Elfriede arranged them on the table, three in a triangular shape and another three in the spaces outside so that the light looked like a star.
“ No, not on the chair, on the floor by the table here.”
Gerrit sat down nervously, cross-legged. He knew something momentous might happen but was afraid. He wanted to tell her to go but couldn’t, some inexplicable force told him he must do as she asked. He knew what she was there for, he sensed it but he wasn’t sure he could face it. Finally, she switched off the light and with some awkwardness, squatted down on the floor opposite him. In the candlelight, she looked fearsome but he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She began to chant in a language he didn’t recognise, quietly at first, then building up to a crescendo until she was almost howling. He felt shivers running up and down his spine and the tears running down his face. Beest appeared beside him and licked his hand, so he stroked the dog and felt glad of the animal contact. After a while, all he could see was the table, the light and Elfriede. The rest of the room seemed to have melted away, leaving a blackness, a void that the candlelight couldn’t penetrate. Suddenly, she screamed and reaching across the candle flames, grabbed his hands and gripped them so hard until he thought he would cry out from the pain. The chanting resumed but the pressure on his hands relaxed and he began to feel a warmth spreading up through his fingers into his wrists and arms and eventually the rest of his body. The heat was protective and comforting and he felt safe within it. His fears subsided and he felt every muscle and joint relax until a point when he wanted to laugh out loud. No drug he had ever experimented with had given him this feeling and he didn’t want the sensation ever to end. He saw Elfriede’s arms only centimetres above the candle flames and vaguely wondered that she wasn’t being burned.
“Are you ready Gerrit? Can you talk to me now?”
Her voice was like the softest silk, a young woman’s voice emanating from an old woman’s body. Her eyes seemed like the very essence of kindness and love, he couldn’t describe it any other way.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Why does what he did hurt you so much?”
From the comfort of the cocoon Elfriede had woven around him, Gerrit could look back and see himself as a child. He saw himself lying in bed, shaking with fear. He saw the little fists clenched and the way the legs were curled up in the foetal position. He remembered every second as if it were happening now and from a distance, he felt so desperately sorry for himself as he was then. He watched as the door opened, letting in light from the hallway and saw the figure walk in. He had always seemed so huge to little Gerrit, so powerful, so irresistible, a man with whom in normal life there was no arguing and who in these situations, was even more intimidating. He looked at Elfriede and she nodded, urging him to continue his thoughts. The man was wearing underpants only and came and sat down on the side of the bed.
“Hallo son.”
“Hallo daddy.” He could hear the trembling in his own voice.
There were rarely more words spoken. The adult Gerrit could feel the sheets being pulled back off his body and the warmth of his father’s hand as he stroked his legs. He watched as his father went through the routine with which he was so familiar. He felt the sensations of how it felt when his father made him touch him and stroke him and the guilt of how certain things seemed pleasurable. He experienced the pain again and the crushing weight of his father’s body and he struggled to break free of the vision. Elfriede’s hands seemed to hold him in place, keep him from escaping the memories. He cried and shouted and begged her to let him go but she kept him there until he’d lived through it all again. When it was all over, he was aching inside and weeping uncontrollably. These were his deepest secrets and this woman was cruelly exposing them and stripping away the years of protective bandage he had wound around them.
“Now, watch, look at yourself again.”
Her voice was insistent and broke through his resistance. The scene began to reappear and he yelled out in futile protest. Exactly the same events occurred in exactly the same order until the moment when his father began to caress his bottom. Then he saw little Gerrit undergo a change. The fear disappeared from his face and was replaced with anger. He watched as the boy gripped his father’s hand and effortlessly removed it. He saw the surprise in his father’s eyes and began to rejoice, as the child gradually became master of the man. Little Gerrit seemed to grow and grow until he matched his father for size. The boy’s fist was raised and he watched as it pounded into the man’s face. The revenge was merciless and Gerrit grew more and more euphoric as the hated memory was beaten down but just as the boy seemed about to deliver the coup de grace, he shouted out.
“No, stop! Stop him! It’s enough.”
Elfriede froze the vision.
“Are you sure? Are you cured of these nightmares? You can kill him if you want. You can remove him for good and eliminate the evil forever.”
“No, no, I loved my Dad. I love him still. The only thing is, now I don’t hate him any more.”
“Good, good. You are cured. You won’t have this pain any more Gerrit. All those dreams, those terrifying nights. They’re gone forever. You have a lot of good in you boy. I might have finished it completely if it had been me but you have a strong Kra, a forgiving Kra. I have a lot of hope for you. You have lived for far too long with this burden; it has affected everything you’ve done but from now on you will feel different about life. Many chances will come your way and now you will be able to take them, whereas before, so many possibilities were blocked for you. How do you feel?”
He had hardly noticed that she had released his hands and the all-embracing warmth had gone. Beest was furiously licking his hands and begging to be scratched.
“Hungry! I feel hungry.”
She laughed and got up to fetch the tray of food Candice had left but a minute ago.
28. A surprising New Year’s Eve
Willem had felt like staying in. He was in no mood for the fixed smiles and the inane chitchat that he knew he would face at the dinner party. New Year always depressed him deeply; everybody was so damned hopeful and full of bonhomie. Things were said and promises were made that were rarely kept and the whole thing struck him as being hypocritical to a point. However, he had forced himself, knowing that he felt like this every year and invariably enjoyed himself when he got there. After all, hypocrisy was his game; no one played it better. Marcel was out with Ben and Mia, which hurt him more than he cared to admit. Marcel and he had always been New Year buddies and he felt rejected and excluded from his friend’s latest adventure but at least he had an alternative, so he dressed up, adopted his persona and arrived at Kees and André’s with a bottle of champagne and his usual smile.
“Darling, come in, come in. Happy New Year. Mwah, mwah, kiss, kiss.”
Kees was fairly typical of his type but Willem liked him, for all his affectations. They had grown up on the Amsterdam scene together and had seen it all and survived. Kees had lost two lovers to Aids and Willem admired him for his tenacity and determination to stay cheerful and optimistic. André was much more of a sourpuss and had taken an instant dislike to Willem the first time they had met. From that point on, Willem had made a sport out of taunting him mercilessly.
“Now darling, you are going to behave tonight aren’t you? André has had a dreadful headache all day and I don’t want him upset, it’ll ruin the evening.”
Kees looked genuinely concerned.
”Moi, misbehave? I think you have me mistaken for another my dear. I shall be a model of decorum, a paragon of virtue.”
“Willem, I can see that look in your eyes and I’m warning you, André’s in no mood to be trifled with.”
“Okay, I promise, now are you going to take my coat or not?”
Kees took the coat and hung it up.
“Besides, I think you may be distracted. We have another guest in whom you may well be interested.”
“Oh God, not Koos. Please don’t say he’s here. If he is I’m turning around and going now.”
“No, no, this is a guy called Jan Harteveld. You’ve never met him before. He’s in advertising just like you.”
”And that’s supposed to make him sound promising?”
“Just you wait and see.”
They went through into the other room, where five other people were sitting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s Willem. Willem, I believe you know everyone here except for Jan. Jan, this is Willem, Willem, this is Jan. Let me get you a drink, the usual?”
Willem nodded and extended his hand to the approaching stranger. He was, he guessed, in his late forties, early fifties, tall and slim, a full head of still blond waves, with a touch of salt and pepper at the temples and a smile to die for! The eyes were clear and blue and above all, friendly. Willem took a breath.
‘Now don’t ruin this at the beginning,’ he thought and introduced himself without any airs and graces. Over Jan’s shoulder, he caught Kees winking at him and gave him the briefest of grateful glances.
For once, the dinner had been fun. The right mix of people created an interesting mix of conversation and even André managed to perk himself up.
‘Horrible set of teeth,’ thought Willem to himself, ‘No wonder he rarely smiles.”
André in his turn kept looking warily over at Willem, preparing himself for any barbs that might fly his way. They were long-standing sparring partners but tonight as Kees had suggested, Willem was distracted and couldn’t be bothered with cheap insults. Besides, he didn’t want to camp it up in front of Jan, who was charming and witty but straight as a die. Willem didn’t want him put off by his behaving badly.
The conversation turned to relationships and Willem found himself becoming involved in a dispute about the way gays behave. Paul, one of the younger guests was bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t find a lasting friendship on the gay scene, which upset André, who put himself and Kees forward as examples of just such a thing. André was becoming so pompous and dismissive, Willem couldn’t resist chipping in.
“What you both say Paul and André, is instantly recognisable.”
André glared at him defensively.
“Everything is so complex. For me, the gay world is divided up into, those who are only out for romance, a small minority I think and those who are only out for sex, who are a large majority. Then there are those with half a brain like us, who try to find some sort of happy balance and consistently fail. In a way, casual sex is, at least, honest, what you see is what you get but ultimately it's so unsatisfying! There are very few rules and it's easy to get but everything depends on appearance. Then it becomes addictive and people seek more and more thrills, extremes. Well, don’t all look so shocked, we’ve all done it and we've had this conversation many times. Personally, every now and then I need that sort of sex but I don't want to talk to them; I don't want to know them, the physical release is enough. The problem is then, that paradoxically, rejection becomes all the more crushing because you weren't that bothered anyway. I then convince myself that I don't want any more relationships because, however many good times there were, they have ultimately failed. Then the self-protection barriers come up; you reject the possibility of getting close to someone and that leaves you with the casual sex again. It’s a vicious circle!
I know we can all rationalise things very well and in the cold light of day, say there's no way we’re going to do this and that but if someone pays us the right amount of attention, says the right things and is also physically attractive, we can find ourselves getting hurt very easily. Similarly, if they're not as interested as we are, we’ll try to say it doesn't matter, it’s fine, we’ll survive; plenty more fish in the sea and that sort of crap but it's absolutely not! It's a bitch and it's painful. So what does that leave us, a lifetime of avoiding hurt and physical contact? No, definitely not! For all our sophistication and cynicism - I think we're all people who need to love and be loved. If you’re lucky, you’ll find it, just like you and Kees, André.”
He smiled at André, whose jaw dropped.
“In the meantime, there's nothing wrong with casual sex, as long as you see it for what it is - not bad, not good but sometimes necessary. It'll disappoint you, it may even be fantastic but it is what it is, not a lifestyle choice but an interim solution to a basic human need until you meet the next Mr.Right. My natural preference would be for a monogamous relationship with someone intelligent, good-looking and with an interesting life, then I can step out of the gay scene and be a ‘normal' person and 'breathe' again but until that happens, we all have to make the best of it, warts 'n all!”
There was a short silence then a round of applause. Even André joined in and lifted his glass to toast the speechmaker.
‘God, I’m good!’ thought Willem, smiling to himself. Jan touched him on the arm.
“That was absolutely true. I agree with everything you say. I’d really like to get to know you better Willem. What say we meet up next week sometime for lunch or something? Or is that a problem? Tell me if I’m being presumptuous.”
Willem’s triumph was complete and he took great pleasure in asking André for a pen and paper.
Sitting on the train going back into Amsterdam from Schiphol, Roy had time to reflect on what had happened. He felt very strange about Candice going back early and part of him couldn’t really understand why she had but he accepted it as he’d had to accept so many things over the last two weeks. If this was a taste of their life to come, then the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages. He had no idea what he was going to do with himself on his own but felt a thrill of anticipation in the pit of his stomach at the opportunities this freedom offered him. The memories of that night with Katherine still lingered in the back of his mind and although he’d decided he really didn’t want to investigate that particular area of his sexuality any further, he did want one more adventure before returning to married life, however rejuvenated that might be, back in the States. Whether it would happen was the question. He had no intentions of visiting the Red Light District or anything as crass as that but decided to leave himself open to any opportunities that might come along. With that in mind, he got himself a Chinese meal and went back to the flat to eat. The next night was New Year’s Eve and he’d heard that it could be pretty explosive, so he’d definitely go out on the town then but what about tonight? He thought about calling downstairs and seeing if Gerrit was free for a night out but decided against it. If he was a free agent, he might as well take advantage of it, he could always go out with Gerrit one night before he left. He’d just about decided to walk around the city and see what was available, when he picked up one of the free papers and saw an advert for an American satirical comedy show. He was feeling a little lonely without Candice and the comfort of being entertained in his own language by native speakers suddenly appealed to him. He rang and was told to come along, though there was no guarantee of getting in; it was apparently a popular show in the holiday period. He put on his favourite leather jacket and jeans and set off for the Leidseplein.
It was bitterly cold and the easterly wind was cutting but he didn’t notice it. He was in his element exploring this city. It didn’t really matter if you got lost, the city was laid out in such a way that you would eventually get to where you wanted to go, providing you were heading in the right direction in the first place. As he walked along, he took a good look at the people he encountered. The older tourists were fairly easy to spot, especially the Americans, they just didn’t look as though they belonged here. The young were more difficult to differentiate, though the English seemed to prowl around in semi-drunken packs, loud and boisterous. He avoided them, not trusting the aggressive posturing. He thought about Elfriede and wondered what she was doing at this moment. There were so many strange people in Amsterdam, most of them tramps, junkies or drunks, with sad, twisted faces and bodies, usually heading purposefully somewhere without regard for their surroundings, or squatting in doorways, heads buried and still. They alarmed him, especially the ones who shouted and raged against the world but he was rarely accosted. They seemed to live in a detached world of their own and he wondered why the authorities allowed it to happen but then decided that in a city where tolerance is a virtue, then people’s choice of how they lived was to be preserved at all costs; if it was their choice.
He turned into the Leidsestraat and joined the mass of people moving towards the Leidseplein. He thought he might visit a couple of bars in the area later, although it did seem to be a predominantly young people’s area, full of fast food joints, garish signs and international restaurants.
Having got in to the small theatre-cum-restaurant, there was only room for him to stand at the back but he didn’t mind, as the atmosphere was friendly and good-humoured. Strangely, he found the show to be incongruous in this setting and it just didn’t feel right that as an American in Amsterdam, he should be laughing at American humour, however tilted towards European tastes. There were some funny lines but overall, he wished he’d found something a little more Dutch for the evening. His neighbour, however, seemed to find everything hilarious. She was somewhere between twenty five and thirty five he guessed, with short, spiky blond hair and a dress sense which borrowed heavily from the hippy era but it was her laugh that attracted him the most. He found himself giggling along with her infectious chuckle, so much so, that eventually she noticed and turned round to look at him. She had the most amazing green eyes he’d ever seen.
‘Never trust a green-eyed girl,’ his mother had warned him but that didn’t stop him.
“Sorry, your laugh is just so wonderful. It’s just so catching.”
“Thanks, I think. You make it sound like a cold.”
She had an American accent.
“Where are you from?”
“Originally? Seattle but I live in Amsterdam now and you?”
“Tampa Bay, Florida. Um, my name’s Roy, could I buy you a drink? If you’re not with someone that is?”
“I’m Sylvia. Yes to the first and no to the second. I’ll have a white wine please.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”
Roy had looked very closely at Sylvia, there was no chance that this was anything but an attractive woman and the thought that he’d kissed his wife goodbye only hours earlier seemed a distant memory. He’d wanted another adventure; well maybe this was the start of one.
Candice kissed Roy goodbye and made her way through customs and Passport control into the waiting area. She was certain of one thing, she loved her husband more than she had ever done and she didn’t want to lose that. A new life with Roy was something to be looked forward to but she had to get certain things out of her system first. Like him, she had discovered a certain amount of freedom. Not freedom from him especially but freedom from the mores and values which had tied her down all her life. They had made her into the perfect housewife for a successful man but they had also made her frigid, not only sexually but also in her personality. Now she knew she could be what she wanted to be and not what Middle America thought she should be and she felt liberated. She had all sorts of plans for herself and intended to put them in motion in the next week or so but first she had some unfinished business to settle.
She got on the plane and made her way forward to her seat. After stashing her hand luggage and taking off her coat, she sat down and turning to her neighbour, put her hands to his cheeks and kissed him.
“You made it then?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
“Gerrit, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life!”
Ben, Marcel and Mia met up in the Café Krom, at eight o’clock on New Year’s Eve and started drinking very soon after that. Within ten minutes, the familiarity they had created the previous night was re-established and they felt completely comfortable in each other’s company.
“Don’t you find this strange? Or is it just me? I feel as though we’ve known each other for years.” Marcel downed his third beer.
The other two nodded vigorously.
“Maybe we knew each other in past lives?” said Mia.
“Okay, who were we then in our past lives?” Ben asked, grabbing a handful of coated peanuts.
“Maybe I was Cleopatra and you two were Mark Anthony and Julius Caesar?” Mia flicked her hair back and fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.
“Not exactly very promising. They all came to a pretty sticky end!”
“Isn’t it great though?” Marcel added, “You go through life meeting people, getting to know them, losing them, getting to know others etcetera but it’s so rare that you meet someone who seems to be exactly on the same wavelength and here we are, meeting two in one go!”
“Soul mates.”
“Maybe. Perhaps we’ll turn out to be soul mates but don’t you have to know almost everything about a person before you can call them a soul mate?”
“Well, Ben,” said Mia, “You and I know a bit about each other, probably…well definitely… more than we know about Marcel but I’d hate to think that someone knew everything about me. A girl has to have some secrets you know!”
“Well, here’s one that Marcel’s entitled to know. At a certain time of the month, she’s horrible! Stay well clear.” Ben roared with laughter as Mia hit him.
“I am not! Don’t you believe him Marcel. I’m a pussycat.”
“Well, you wait until I get PMT. I’m not the best person to be around.” Marcel made a sign of the cross with his fingers and hissed.
“Is that gay humour?” asked Ben puzzled.
The other two looked at each other in mock disbelief.
“You mean you don’t have biorhythms? I thought all you men had created your own menstrual substitutes because you felt so left out!”
Ben looked faintly embarrassed and changed the subject. He felt vaguely unsophisticated with these two but enjoyed their company immensely. They made him feel optimistic again. Okay, so it looked like he couldn’t have Mia the way that he’d wanted but this was actually turning out to be better. He wasn’t sure they were what you would call soul mates just yet, he wasn’t quite sure what soul mates were supposed to be but he had to admit there was a definite chemistry there, almost an infatuation.
The evening progressed and the three of them formed a tight little group oblivious to the world around them. They were all getting slowly drunk but in that very happy, sociable way that you do when you’re with good friends and stimulating company.
Before they knew it, the time was approaching midnight and people around them were heading out into the street or onto the terrace, ready to see in the New Year.
“Come on boys,” shouted Mia above the din, “Let’s go outside. It’s nearly twelve.”
The three friends stumbled outside, drinks in hand and joined the crowds on the street. Somewhere in the background, a television announcer was beginning the countdown.
“Ten, nine, eight…”
Mia put her arms around each of the men’s shoulders and they huddled together.
“Seven, six, five…”
Marcel slipped his arm over Ben’s shoulder and the three of them looked at each other, filled with warmth, alcohol and friendship.
“Four, three, two…”
“Here it comes,” Ben yelled.
“One!”
The noise was deafening as a million fireworks exploded in the sky above them and the crowds cheered and danced around. The sky lit up with every imaginable colour and the noise resembled a war zone. The three friends grinned inanely at each other and Mia leaned forward to kiss Ben passionately on the lips. To his surprise, Marcel felt Ben’s arm drawing him firmly into the embrace. As he got closer and closer, he looked at Mia and then at Ben and joined his lips to theirs in a three-way kiss that seemed to last for eternity.
Willem had felt like staying in. He was in no mood for the fixed smiles and the inane chitchat that he knew he would face at the dinner party. New Year always depressed him deeply; everybody was so damned hopeful and full of bonhomie. Things were said and promises were made that were rarely kept and the whole thing struck him as being hypocritical to a point. However, he had forced himself, knowing that he felt like this every year and invariably enjoyed himself when he got there. After all, hypocrisy was his game; no one played it better. Marcel was out with Ben and Mia, which hurt him more than he cared to admit. Marcel and he had always been New Year buddies and he felt rejected and excluded from his friend’s latest adventure but at least he had an alternative, so he dressed up, adopted his persona and arrived at Kees and André’s with a bottle of champagne and his usual smile.
“Darling, come in, come in. Happy New Year. Mwah, mwah, kiss, kiss.”
Kees was fairly typical of his type but Willem liked him, for all his affectations. They had grown up on the Amsterdam scene together and had seen it all and survived. Kees had lost two lovers to Aids and Willem admired him for his tenacity and determination to stay cheerful and optimistic. André was much more of a sourpuss and had taken an instant dislike to Willem the first time they had met. From that point on, Willem had made a sport out of taunting him mercilessly.
“Now darling, you are going to behave tonight aren’t you? André has had a dreadful headache all day and I don’t want him upset, it’ll ruin the evening.”
Kees looked genuinely concerned.
”Moi, misbehave? I think you have me mistaken for another my dear. I shall be a model of decorum, a paragon of virtue.”
“Willem, I can see that look in your eyes and I’m warning you, André’s in no mood to be trifled with.”
“Okay, I promise, now are you going to take my coat or not?”
Kees took the coat and hung it up.
“Besides, I think you may be distracted. We have another guest in whom you may well be interested.”
“Oh God, not Koos. Please don’t say he’s here. If he is I’m turning around and going now.”
“No, no, this is a guy called Jan Harteveld. You’ve never met him before. He’s in advertising just like you.”
”And that’s supposed to make him sound promising?”
“Just you wait and see.”
They went through into the other room, where five other people were sitting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s Willem. Willem, I believe you know everyone here except for Jan. Jan, this is Willem, Willem, this is Jan. Let me get you a drink, the usual?”
Willem nodded and extended his hand to the approaching stranger. He was, he guessed, in his late forties, early fifties, tall and slim, a full head of still blond waves, with a touch of salt and pepper at the temples and a smile to die for! The eyes were clear and blue and above all, friendly. Willem took a breath.
‘Now don’t ruin this at the beginning,’ he thought and introduced himself without any airs and graces. Over Jan’s shoulder, he caught Kees winking at him and gave him the briefest of grateful glances.
For once, the dinner had been fun. The right mix of people created an interesting mix of conversation and even André managed to perk himself up.
‘Horrible set of teeth,’ thought Willem to himself, ‘No wonder he rarely smiles.”
André in his turn kept looking warily over at Willem, preparing himself for any barbs that might fly his way. They were long-standing sparring partners but tonight as Kees had suggested, Willem was distracted and couldn’t be bothered with cheap insults. Besides, he didn’t want to camp it up in front of Jan, who was charming and witty but straight as a die. Willem didn’t want him put off by his behaving badly.
The conversation turned to relationships and Willem found himself becoming involved in a dispute about the way gays behave. Paul, one of the younger guests was bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t find a lasting friendship on the gay scene, which upset André, who put himself and Kees forward as examples of just such a thing. André was becoming so pompous and dismissive, Willem couldn’t resist chipping in.
“What you both say Paul and André, is instantly recognisable.”
André glared at him defensively.
“Everything is so complex. For me, the gay world is divided up into, those who are only out for romance, a small minority I think and those who are only out for sex, who are a large majority. Then there are those with half a brain like us, who try to find some sort of happy balance and consistently fail. In a way, casual sex is, at least, honest, what you see is what you get but ultimately it's so unsatisfying! There are very few rules and it's easy to get but everything depends on appearance. Then it becomes addictive and people seek more and more thrills, extremes. Well, don’t all look so shocked, we’ve all done it and we've had this conversation many times. Personally, every now and then I need that sort of sex but I don't want to talk to them; I don't want to know them, the physical release is enough. The problem is then, that paradoxically, rejection becomes all the more crushing because you weren't that bothered anyway. I then convince myself that I don't want any more relationships because, however many good times there were, they have ultimately failed. Then the self-protection barriers come up; you reject the possibility of getting close to someone and that leaves you with the casual sex again. It’s a vicious circle!
I know we can all rationalise things very well and in the cold light of day, say there's no way we’re going to do this and that but if someone pays us the right amount of attention, says the right things and is also physically attractive, we can find ourselves getting hurt very easily. Similarly, if they're not as interested as we are, we’ll try to say it doesn't matter, it’s fine, we’ll survive; plenty more fish in the sea and that sort of crap but it's absolutely not! It's a bitch and it's painful. So what does that leave us, a lifetime of avoiding hurt and physical contact? No, definitely not! For all our sophistication and cynicism - I think we're all people who need to love and be loved. If you’re lucky, you’ll find it, just like you and Kees, André.”
He smiled at André, whose jaw dropped.
“In the meantime, there's nothing wrong with casual sex, as long as you see it for what it is - not bad, not good but sometimes necessary. It'll disappoint you, it may even be fantastic but it is what it is, not a lifestyle choice but an interim solution to a basic human need until you meet the next Mr.Right. My natural preference would be for a monogamous relationship with someone intelligent, good-looking and with an interesting life, then I can step out of the gay scene and be a ‘normal' person and 'breathe' again but until that happens, we all have to make the best of it, warts 'n all!”
There was a short silence then a round of applause. Even André joined in and lifted his glass to toast the speechmaker.
‘God, I’m good!’ thought Willem, smiling to himself. Jan touched him on the arm.
“That was absolutely true. I agree with everything you say. I’d really like to get to know you better Willem. What say we meet up next week sometime for lunch or something? Or is that a problem? Tell me if I’m being presumptuous.”
Willem’s triumph was complete and he took great pleasure in asking André for a pen and paper.
Sitting on the train going back into Amsterdam from Schiphol, Roy had time to reflect on what had happened. He felt very strange about Candice going back early and part of him couldn’t really understand why she had but he accepted it as he’d had to accept so many things over the last two weeks. If this was a taste of their life to come, then the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages. He had no idea what he was going to do with himself on his own but felt a thrill of anticipation in the pit of his stomach at the opportunities this freedom offered him. The memories of that night with Katherine still lingered in the back of his mind and although he’d decided he really didn’t want to investigate that particular area of his sexuality any further, he did want one more adventure before returning to married life, however rejuvenated that might be, back in the States. Whether it would happen was the question. He had no intentions of visiting the Red Light District or anything as crass as that but decided to leave himself open to any opportunities that might come along. With that in mind, he got himself a Chinese meal and went back to the flat to eat. The next night was New Year’s Eve and he’d heard that it could be pretty explosive, so he’d definitely go out on the town then but what about tonight? He thought about calling downstairs and seeing if Gerrit was free for a night out but decided against it. If he was a free agent, he might as well take advantage of it, he could always go out with Gerrit one night before he left. He’d just about decided to walk around the city and see what was available, when he picked up one of the free papers and saw an advert for an American satirical comedy show. He was feeling a little lonely without Candice and the comfort of being entertained in his own language by native speakers suddenly appealed to him. He rang and was told to come along, though there was no guarantee of getting in; it was apparently a popular show in the holiday period. He put on his favourite leather jacket and jeans and set off for the Leidseplein.
It was bitterly cold and the easterly wind was cutting but he didn’t notice it. He was in his element exploring this city. It didn’t really matter if you got lost, the city was laid out in such a way that you would eventually get to where you wanted to go, providing you were heading in the right direction in the first place. As he walked along, he took a good look at the people he encountered. The older tourists were fairly easy to spot, especially the Americans, they just didn’t look as though they belonged here. The young were more difficult to differentiate, though the English seemed to prowl around in semi-drunken packs, loud and boisterous. He avoided them, not trusting the aggressive posturing. He thought about Elfriede and wondered what she was doing at this moment. There were so many strange people in Amsterdam, most of them tramps, junkies or drunks, with sad, twisted faces and bodies, usually heading purposefully somewhere without regard for their surroundings, or squatting in doorways, heads buried and still. They alarmed him, especially the ones who shouted and raged against the world but he was rarely accosted. They seemed to live in a detached world of their own and he wondered why the authorities allowed it to happen but then decided that in a city where tolerance is a virtue, then people’s choice of how they lived was to be preserved at all costs; if it was their choice.
He turned into the Leidsestraat and joined the mass of people moving towards the Leidseplein. He thought he might visit a couple of bars in the area later, although it did seem to be a predominantly young people’s area, full of fast food joints, garish signs and international restaurants.
Having got in to the small theatre-cum-restaurant, there was only room for him to stand at the back but he didn’t mind, as the atmosphere was friendly and good-humoured. Strangely, he found the show to be incongruous in this setting and it just didn’t feel right that as an American in Amsterdam, he should be laughing at American humour, however tilted towards European tastes. There were some funny lines but overall, he wished he’d found something a little more Dutch for the evening. His neighbour, however, seemed to find everything hilarious. She was somewhere between twenty five and thirty five he guessed, with short, spiky blond hair and a dress sense which borrowed heavily from the hippy era but it was her laugh that attracted him the most. He found himself giggling along with her infectious chuckle, so much so, that eventually she noticed and turned round to look at him. She had the most amazing green eyes he’d ever seen.
‘Never trust a green-eyed girl,’ his mother had warned him but that didn’t stop him.
“Sorry, your laugh is just so wonderful. It’s just so catching.”
“Thanks, I think. You make it sound like a cold.”
She had an American accent.
“Where are you from?”
“Originally? Seattle but I live in Amsterdam now and you?”
“Tampa Bay, Florida. Um, my name’s Roy, could I buy you a drink? If you’re not with someone that is?”
“I’m Sylvia. Yes to the first and no to the second. I’ll have a white wine please.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”
Roy had looked very closely at Sylvia, there was no chance that this was anything but an attractive woman and the thought that he’d kissed his wife goodbye only hours earlier seemed a distant memory. He’d wanted another adventure; well maybe this was the start of one.
Candice kissed Roy goodbye and made her way through customs and Passport control into the waiting area. She was certain of one thing, she loved her husband more than she had ever done and she didn’t want to lose that. A new life with Roy was something to be looked forward to but she had to get certain things out of her system first. Like him, she had discovered a certain amount of freedom. Not freedom from him especially but freedom from the mores and values which had tied her down all her life. They had made her into the perfect housewife for a successful man but they had also made her frigid, not only sexually but also in her personality. Now she knew she could be what she wanted to be and not what Middle America thought she should be and she felt liberated. She had all sorts of plans for herself and intended to put them in motion in the next week or so but first she had some unfinished business to settle.
She got on the plane and made her way forward to her seat. After stashing her hand luggage and taking off her coat, she sat down and turning to her neighbour, put her hands to his cheeks and kissed him.
“You made it then?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
“Gerrit, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life!”
Ben, Marcel and Mia met up in the Café Krom, at eight o’clock on New Year’s Eve and started drinking very soon after that. Within ten minutes, the familiarity they had created the previous night was re-established and they felt completely comfortable in each other’s company.
“Don’t you find this strange? Or is it just me? I feel as though we’ve known each other for years.” Marcel downed his third beer.
The other two nodded vigorously.
“Maybe we knew each other in past lives?” said Mia.
“Okay, who were we then in our past lives?” Ben asked, grabbing a handful of coated peanuts.
“Maybe I was Cleopatra and you two were Mark Anthony and Julius Caesar?” Mia flicked her hair back and fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.
“Not exactly very promising. They all came to a pretty sticky end!”
“Isn’t it great though?” Marcel added, “You go through life meeting people, getting to know them, losing them, getting to know others etcetera but it’s so rare that you meet someone who seems to be exactly on the same wavelength and here we are, meeting two in one go!”
“Soul mates.”
“Maybe. Perhaps we’ll turn out to be soul mates but don’t you have to know almost everything about a person before you can call them a soul mate?”
“Well, Ben,” said Mia, “You and I know a bit about each other, probably…well definitely… more than we know about Marcel but I’d hate to think that someone knew everything about me. A girl has to have some secrets you know!”
“Well, here’s one that Marcel’s entitled to know. At a certain time of the month, she’s horrible! Stay well clear.” Ben roared with laughter as Mia hit him.
“I am not! Don’t you believe him Marcel. I’m a pussycat.”
“Well, you wait until I get PMT. I’m not the best person to be around.” Marcel made a sign of the cross with his fingers and hissed.
“Is that gay humour?” asked Ben puzzled.
The other two looked at each other in mock disbelief.
“You mean you don’t have biorhythms? I thought all you men had created your own menstrual substitutes because you felt so left out!”
Ben looked faintly embarrassed and changed the subject. He felt vaguely unsophisticated with these two but enjoyed their company immensely. They made him feel optimistic again. Okay, so it looked like he couldn’t have Mia the way that he’d wanted but this was actually turning out to be better. He wasn’t sure they were what you would call soul mates just yet, he wasn’t quite sure what soul mates were supposed to be but he had to admit there was a definite chemistry there, almost an infatuation.
The evening progressed and the three of them formed a tight little group oblivious to the world around them. They were all getting slowly drunk but in that very happy, sociable way that you do when you’re with good friends and stimulating company.
Before they knew it, the time was approaching midnight and people around them were heading out into the street or onto the terrace, ready to see in the New Year.
“Come on boys,” shouted Mia above the din, “Let’s go outside. It’s nearly twelve.”
The three friends stumbled outside, drinks in hand and joined the crowds on the street. Somewhere in the background, a television announcer was beginning the countdown.
“Ten, nine, eight…”
Mia put her arms around each of the men’s shoulders and they huddled together.
“Seven, six, five…”
Marcel slipped his arm over Ben’s shoulder and the three of them looked at each other, filled with warmth, alcohol and friendship.
“Four, three, two…”
“Here it comes,” Ben yelled.
“One!”
The noise was deafening as a million fireworks exploded in the sky above them and the crowds cheered and danced around. The sky lit up with every imaginable colour and the noise resembled a war zone. The three friends grinned inanely at each other and Mia leaned forward to kiss Ben passionately on the lips. To his surprise, Marcel felt Ben’s arm drawing him firmly into the embrace. As he got closer and closer, he looked at Mia and then at Ben and joined his lips to theirs in a three-way kiss that seemed to last for eternity.
- Mia, Marcel and Ben
- Gerrit gives up his secret
28. A surprising New Year’s Eve
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The Amsterdam Series