Page 34 of A New Life in Amsterdam

I am still on a high after my date with Abe by the time Beatrix’s book club comes around.

I love that our relationship stays so casual.

There are no expectations to live in each other’s pockets, and no hurry to move things along.

I feel so relaxed in his company. Although, as Abe takes me round to Beatrix’s flat for the first time, I confess how nervous I am of being there and meeting her friends.

‘You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. There’s no need for that. You’ll love Beatrix’s friends.’

‘But will they love me?’

‘Of course they will. Why would they not? They’re going to adore you just as much as…’

Abe doesn’t finish his sentence as Beatrix opens the door with the same smile her brother has.

‘Sandy, so good to see you.’

She hugs me and gives me such a warm welcome that the nerves soon dissipate.

Beatrix’s first-floor apartment is exactly what I’d expected.

It’s small, cosy and filled with her character.

A collage of photos with Beatrix and her many friends hangs on the wall, and her bicycle with the customary wicker basket leans below it in her hallway.

Further along the wall, a wooden coat hook holds the weight of a pile of thick jackets.

It seems there are quite a few people here from the number of coats hanging up.

I can already hear the chatting from the hallway.

‘Can I get you a glass of wine or beer?’ asks Beatrix.

‘Wine would be lovely, thank you.’

Beatrix takes Abe and I into the living room where people are sat on bean bags and a white wooden egg chair, just like Abe’s, hangs in the corner.

I assume that must be where Beatrix was sitting as it is still swinging slightly as though there is a ghost sat on it.

Like her brother, she also has an impressively stocked bookcase too.

A dark-haired man, wearing big tortoiseshell glasses immediately makes a beeline for me and introduces himself as Willem, Beatrix’s new boyfriend.

He seems as lovely as Beatrix with his similarly warm welcome.

I can’t help but take to him immediately.

The book club is a mix of male and female readers of different ages – young and old. They all smile and say hi to me, and one woman asks me where I am from and then proceeds to tell me how she is originally from Southampton. It is so nice to meet someone from the UK who has moved over here too.

‘I’m Theresa. Please, come and sit here next to me,’ she says, gesturing to the empty bean bag beside her.

Beatrix returns with my wine and heads back into the kitchen to get some snacks. Abe follows her to help and so I sit down beside Theresa and introduce myself.

‘How long have you been here?’ she asks.

‘Only eight weeks. I’m still a complete newbie and finding my feet. How long have you been here?’

‘Ten years now. I met my husband on a hen night in Amsterdam. He’s sat over there.’

I look at the studious-looking Dutch guy in brown cords and wire glasses sat opposite her.

‘How wonderful. I bet you’re glad you went on that hen night.’

‘It was a bit awkward, to be truthful. You see, I was the bride, but it still makes for a good story.’ She shrieks with laughter.

‘Wow. That sure is a story. So, a Dutchman swept you off your feet, did he?’

‘You could say that. A little birdie tells me that you may have been swept off your feet by one, too?’

I look over to Abe, who is dishing out some crisps into a bowl in the open-plan kitchen.

‘Well, I’m slowly being convinced. It’s very early days yet. Very early!’

‘You won’t regret it. Dutch guys are the best and, in case you didn’t know this, but the sex… Oh my god, well, let’s just say you won’t get better. No inhibitions.’

The wine I’ve just sipped spits out of my mouth and I almost choke. Everyone in the room turns to look at me as I cough everywhere and turn bright red. I don’t think Theresa has any inhibitions either.

‘Oh, now, I wouldn’t know about that,’ I say.

‘Wouldn’t know what?’ asks Abe as he puts down the bowl of crisps. He smiles at me innocently as I cringe at Theresa’s topic of conversation.

I look down at the floor and try to shrug off his remark.

‘Sex, Abe. She doesn’t know that Dutchmen are the best. Or so she says,’ Theresa says, winking at him.

My cheeks can’t possibly turn redder, and I don’t know where to look. Abe obviously picks up on the fact that I am mortified.

‘Hey, come on. She’s a lady. Let’s not embarrass her.’

I look up at Abe with gratitude as he stands above my bean bag.

‘I’m just kidding. Come on, sex is natural. No shame in it.’ She shrugs her shoulders and fortunately shuts up when Beatrix sits down on her egg chair and officially introduces me to everyone.

‘This is Sandy. My brother’s girlfriend.’ I feel my cheeks flush again at the mention of girlfriend. Is this what he has told Beatrix? There is no time to ask as she moves straight on to discuss the book they have been reading.

‘So, let’s talk about the book. What did everyone think?’ Beatrix holds up a copy of Zangvogels by Christy Lefteri. Even though the Dutch name isn’t familiar, I recognise the cover as the wonderful Songbirds book. What luck! It’s one of my favourites.

‘So emotional,’ someone says.

‘Tragic,’ says Theresa, shaking her head.

‘Moving. It’s written so beautifully,’ says Theresa’s husband.

Everyone agrees that the story is beautifully written, and we discuss the topics of grief and the life of a housemaid. Eventually, the conversation moves on to who is due to choose next month’s book. A woman in cream flared trousers, braces and a striped shirt announces that it is her turn.

‘I suggest Wilbur Smith?’

‘Ah, we did Wilbur Smith last time it was your book. Every time you say the same thing. Do you not have any other authors you read?’ says someone.

‘No. He’s my favourite author.’

‘Can you have a think about a new author? We need some variety,’ says Beatrix.

‘If you don’t like my suggestions, why don’t you ask Sandy to choose? She’s our new member here,’ says the woman wearing the braces.

Everyone in the room turns to look at me.

‘Would you like to choose something?’ asks Beatrix.

‘Umm, yeah. I’d love to, if that’s okay. I know this might not be to everyone’s taste, but would you mind if I suggest a classic to shake things up a bit?’

Everyone around the room nods and smiles politely.

‘The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. What do you think?’

‘A wonderful classic. I think it’s a great idea. Something we can get our teeth into,’ says Abe.

Beatrix nods her head in agreement, and everyone happily accepts my choice.

For the rest of the evening, we enjoy our drinks, eat all the crisps and mingle with each other.

Abe puts his arm around me as we move to chat with a professor and her husband.

She tells me that she teaches history at the local university.

Someone else I meet works in an antiques store on one of the streets near the canal, and the woman in the braces works in fashion.

I love how so many different people are under one roof here thanks to their love of books.

It is a grown-up and civilised evening as we all have adult conversations about subjects ranging from politics to the latest television adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals, which we all agree was wonderful. Theresa, especially so.

By ten p.m. we say our goodbyes and the lovely people I’ve met tell me how wonderful it was to meet me. I feel as though I am part of a whole new social circle, and I look forward to our meeting next month.

‘That was a great evening. Thank you for introducing me to so many great people,’ I say to Beatrix.

‘You’re so welcome. I’m glad you could be here. It’s great to see my kid brother so happy.’

‘Hey, I’ve told you, I’m fifty-eight. When will you stop calling me your kid brother,’ teases Abe.

The three of us laugh and Beatrix and I hug each other goodbye before Abe and I head back out into the night. The street lights reflect down on the water in the canal as Abe puts his arm around me and we snuggle in close all the way home.

‘Thanks for such a great night, as usual, Abe.’

‘Anytime. I love being with you, besides, I need to keep up my English,’ says Abe, jokingly.

‘You put me to shame. I need to practise more of my Dutch. I should have used it tonight, but I’m never brave enough. Besides, I’ve another few weeks of classes yet. I’m spending the day catching up on my homework tomorrow.’

‘Ah, does that mean I won’t see you?’

‘Hmm, studying or seeing you? Please don’t give me such a hard decision.’ I playfully tap his arm.

‘Well, I’d hope it would be an easy decision,’ he says with a big, teasing smile as we reach my houseboat.

‘Yeah, it is.’

Abe pulls me to him and kisses me outside my front door. I return the kiss and hold him tight, although something has been nagging at me all night.

‘I guess I should get home but, if you have a chance, I hope I’ll get to see you tomorrow,’ says Abe.

‘I’ll make sure I can fit you into my busy schedule,’ I tease him.

‘I appreciate it.’

As he turns to head home to his barge, I stop him.

‘Abe. Can I ask you something?’

‘Yes, sure.’

‘Is it time I found out? I mean, are Dutch guys really the best at… you know?’

Abe looks at me, smiling, and then laughs.

‘At you know what?’

‘So, you didn’t hear what Theresa said then?’

‘Hmm.’ Abe starts laughing and has a twinkle in his eye.

‘You do know. You overheard the conversation, didn’t you?’

‘Okay, maybe I did. I just wanted to watch you squirm a bit,’ says Abe with a big smile.

‘That’s naughty.’ I laugh.

‘Yes, sorry. It was a bit, but regarding your question… Of course, if you want to find out if she was right then there’s only one thing to do.’

‘In that case, are you coming in?’

‘How can I refuse such an offer? I mean, I always believe you should fully immerse yourself in the experience when you’re in a new country.

I’m only too happy to help,’ says Abe, as he wraps both his arms around me and we giggle together.

Then he kisses me under the Amsterdam moonlight, and I melt into his arms.