Page 8 of A New Life in Amsterdam

‘She might.’

‘Oh my gosh, I hope not.’

‘So, where’s the barge then? If it’s not Brecon it must be Monmouth way,’ says Debbie.

‘No, it’s actually on a canal in Amsterdam.’

‘Amsterdam? Isn’t that full of people on wacky baccy?’ says Nigel.

‘My goodness, Nigel! Can you be happy for Sandy, please? Oh, he’s a right miserable so-and-so.’

‘I’m just realistic.’

‘It’s okay. Amsterdam is amazing. Have you ever been there, Nigel?’ I ask.

‘No, I’ve been to Denmark, though. Danish, Dutch, it’s all the same, isn’t it? It’s the same language and everything.’

‘No, it’s not,’ says Debbie. She rolls her eyes at him in disgust. ‘Ignore him. He’s so ignorant. Honestly.’

I know Nigel isn’t the worldliest person on earth, so I am amazed he has even been to Denmark, although if I remember correctly that was for an organised football club event. If the rest of his club hadn’t gone then I’m sure he wouldn’t have bothered getting a passport.

‘Well, Nigel, I’ll have to show you around and you can find out for yourself how fabulous it is.

You’ll both have to come and visit when I’m all sorted.

There’s a lot of culture in Amsterdam and around the area, actually.

Did you know there’s a fantastic Van Gogh museum?

Then there’s the Rijksmuseum, which is full of masterpieces by Rembrandt, and… ’

‘The only masterpiece I want to see are those roast dinners Debs makes me.’

‘I give up. How could I marry such an uncultured human being?’ says Debbie.

Nigel winks at Debbie and I can’t decide if he’s teasing her or being serious.

But it does make me think how nice it is to be single and not have any man showing me up in front of my friends.

Not that Paul ever did, to be fair, but I’ve noticed a lot of older men undermining their wives recently. Is it a midlife thing?

‘Anyway, the houseboat is going to be fabulous, I’m sure of it. Look, here’s a photo.’ I take out my phone, scrolling past the beautiful screensaver I have of Hannah on an Australian beach and showing them both a photo that I have already saved.

Nigel peers down at the photo.

‘I hope you didn’t pay too much for it. You do know what they say about boats of any kind, don’t you?’

‘Umm, no.’

‘Bring Out Another Thousand. B-O-A-T. Get it? They’re bloody expensive things. Never stop costing money.’

‘Well, this one seems to be a bit of a bargain. I’ve got a video here if you want a look.’

‘Perhaps that’s because it needs a lot of money spending on it.’

‘No, it isn’t. Look,’ I start playing the video but Nigel still doesn’t seem keen.

‘Is that a big crack I see down the side?’

‘No, you’re wrong! I checked myself. It just needs a lick of paint. They don’t think there is anything structurally wrong, but to be certain I asked the agent for a survey. I’m not a complete moron, you know.’

‘It looks beautiful. Seriously, Nigel, will you go away? This is women’s talk. We really don’t need you and your mansplaining.’

Sulkily Nigel finally walks off and leaves us alone.

‘We should have told him we were going to discuss my endometriosis, that would have got rid of him,’ says Debbie, laughing. Then she lowers her voice.

‘I must admit, I’m so jealous of you. What I wouldn’t do to run off and have a new start.

Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be when you’re menopausal and everything your husband does gets on your bloody nerves.

’ She takes a sip of her tea and rolls her eyes.

I do feel for her as they’ve been bickering for some time now.

‘Well, just remember that you can visit anytime. You’ll always be welcome. If you ever need a break, just come over and I’ll be there for you.’

‘That means so much. Thank you. I might just take you up on that. Oh, Sandy, it’s going to be so amazing for you. Like I say, I envy you so much.’

‘Well, there’s a lot of work I have to do before my new start.

I’ve still got to get rid of all the clutter I’ve accumulated over the years.

Not to mention finding a buyer for the house.

I know it might be risky selling up before I know how it’s going to go out there, but either way it’s time to downsize, even if I hate life on a barge and end up coming home. ’

‘Why would you hate it? You’ve always loved Amsterdam. You always said how it reminds you of Nicky.’

‘Yeah, I know, but that was one weekend a very long time ago with some very special memories. When I stop for a moment, I realise quite how bonkers and irrational this decision sounds.’

‘You can always come back and, selfishly, I’d be happy if you do. What will I do without my bestie next door?’

‘We’ll manage. We can still have our Saturday morning catch-up. We’ll just have to do it on the phone or whatever.’

‘Well, I’m certainly going to live vicariously through you. I can’t wait to see what you make of your new home. I just know it’s going to be gorgeous.’

‘Thank you. I’m not sure I have the faith you have in me, but I’ll try my best to make it a cosy home.’

As I bid farewell to Debbie, and Nigel who is sulking in his armchair, I look back at their beautiful Abergavenny cottage with its ivy climbing up the walls, just like mine.

I watch as Nigel gets up to close the curtains as I walk down the path.

There might not be a lot of love going on inside there right now, but it certainly looks like a loving, happy home on the outside.

I only hope the houseboat can be just as cosy by the time I put my stamp on it and that it won’t be the damp place that Nigel envisions.

I pray that I am not making a mistake and remind myself that I still have a get-out clause if the survey shows anything unexpected.