in person and forgotten.
‘Look,’ said Phil. ‘I am very much aware how uncool that thumbs-up thing was.’
‘I thought it was funny. Quite sweet actually. Sometimes I miss the English and their funny ways.’
‘You know England then?’
‘A bit. I’m actually half English. My dad was a Londoner but I was raised here in Amsterdam, then moved to London in my twenties. I haven’t been to the UK for a while but if there’s one thing I miss about the English, it’s the way that you moan. No one, not even the Danes, can moan like you Brits. It’s your nation’s most endearing feature.’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Phil. ‘We do begrudgingly aim to please.’
Phil thought this had better be the end of the conversation. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘It was nice to meet you.’
‘You too,’ she replied. ‘And I really want to thank you for your assistance outside. I hope the rest of your stag weekend goes well. Congratulations. I hope marriage suits you better than it did me.’
Phil eyed the woman suspiciously. ‘How did you know I was the one getting married? Do I look engaged?’
‘It’s in your eyes, I think,’ she said. ‘But it’s not a bad thing. It’s nice. Believe me you don’t want to be like that friend of yours.’
‘Deano? He’s not that bad. You know what they say about barks being worse than bites? Well that’s him all over.’
‘Maybe. But I stand by what I said. You don’t want to be like him.’
‘I’ll try not to be.’
‘So what’s planned for the rest of your boys’ weekend? Anything good? No fights I hope.’
‘Oh, no . . .’ said Phil. ‘We’ll probably just be doing the usual stuff.’
‘Visiting the red-light area, getting stoned and drinking ’til you throw up?’
‘I thought you said you liked the Brits?’ protested Phil. ‘We’re not all clichés.’
‘So tomorrow you and the guys will be hitting Amsterdam’s top cultural spots? Stedelijk followed by the Van Gogh Museum then after lunch heading to Oude Kerk and maybe finishing the day off at the Begijnhof?’
‘We might be.’
The woman clearly wasn’t convinced. ‘Now that,’ she said, ‘I’d love to see.’
‘Does it get you down?’ asked Phil moving out of the way of a couple trying to get around him. ‘Having your country invaded every weekend by hordes of Brits?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really. I don’t go out that often. I just sometimes wish you lot would recognise there’s more to Amsterdam than clogs, hash and working girls.’
‘In that case,’ said Phil raising his right hand. ‘In return for getting us in here tonight – thanks for that by the way – I hereby promise to go somewhere cultural tomorrow. You name it and I’ll go there.’
‘Seriously?’
Phil grinned. ‘I never joke about culture.’
‘Then in that case you should go to the Van Gogh Museum. It’s nice there. Plenty to see. You’ll love it.’
Phil smiled as if to say, ‘Well I suppose that’s that,’ and she offered him a smile in return. Carefully wrapping his thumbs inside his fist in case they got ideas of their own he headed back to his friends.
‘Where have you been?’ said Reuben. ‘We were about to send out a search party!’
‘Nowhere,’ said Phil rolling over the encounter in his mind. ‘I just got a bit lost that’s all. This place is bigger than you think.’ He took his glass from Degsy and drained it in one. ‘I was thinking that maybe we should get off?’
‘No can do, mate,’ said Deano.
‘Why not?’
Deano looked over Phil’s shoulder. ‘Because I think the woman of my dreams has finally come to her senses.’
Phil turned around to see the woman from the queue walking over to them. ‘For you,’ she said, handing him a torn piece of paper, ‘to thank you for your help earlier and in case you use not having anyone to go with as an excuse to chicken out.’
Phil looked at the paper in his hand. A name and mobile number written in the same gloriously
‘Look,’ said Phil. ‘I am very much aware how uncool that thumbs-up thing was.’
‘I thought it was funny. Quite sweet actually. Sometimes I miss the English and their funny ways.’
‘You know England then?’
‘A bit. I’m actually half English. My dad was a Londoner but I was raised here in Amsterdam, then moved to London in my twenties. I haven’t been to the UK for a while but if there’s one thing I miss about the English, it’s the way that you moan. No one, not even the Danes, can moan like you Brits. It’s your nation’s most endearing feature.’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Phil. ‘We do begrudgingly aim to please.’
Phil thought this had better be the end of the conversation. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘It was nice to meet you.’
‘You too,’ she replied. ‘And I really want to thank you for your assistance outside. I hope the rest of your stag weekend goes well. Congratulations. I hope marriage suits you better than it did me.’
Phil eyed the woman suspiciously. ‘How did you know I was the one getting married? Do I look engaged?’
‘It’s in your eyes, I think,’ she said. ‘But it’s not a bad thing. It’s nice. Believe me you don’t want to be like that friend of yours.’
‘Deano? He’s not that bad. You know what they say about barks being worse than bites? Well that’s him all over.’
‘Maybe. But I stand by what I said. You don’t want to be like him.’
‘I’ll try not to be.’
‘So what’s planned for the rest of your boys’ weekend? Anything good? No fights I hope.’
‘Oh, no . . .’ said Phil. ‘We’ll probably just be doing the usual stuff.’
‘Visiting the red-light area, getting stoned and drinking ’til you throw up?’
‘I thought you said you liked the Brits?’ protested Phil. ‘We’re not all clichés.’
‘So tomorrow you and the guys will be hitting Amsterdam’s top cultural spots? Stedelijk followed by the Van Gogh Museum then after lunch heading to Oude Kerk and maybe finishing the day off at the Begijnhof?’
‘We might be.’
The woman clearly wasn’t convinced. ‘Now that,’ she said, ‘I’d love to see.’
‘Does it get you down?’ asked Phil moving out of the way of a couple trying to get around him. ‘Having your country invaded every weekend by hordes of Brits?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really. I don’t go out that often. I just sometimes wish you lot would recognise there’s more to Amsterdam than clogs, hash and working girls.’
‘In that case,’ said Phil raising his right hand. ‘In return for getting us in here tonight – thanks for that by the way – I hereby promise to go somewhere cultural tomorrow. You name it and I’ll go there.’
‘Seriously?’
Phil grinned. ‘I never joke about culture.’
‘Then in that case you should go to the Van Gogh Museum. It’s nice there. Plenty to see. You’ll love it.’
Phil smiled as if to say, ‘Well I suppose that’s that,’ and she offered him a smile in return. Carefully wrapping his thumbs inside his fist in case they got ideas of their own he headed back to his friends.
‘Where have you been?’ said Reuben. ‘We were about to send out a search party!’
‘Nowhere,’ said Phil rolling over the encounter in his mind. ‘I just got a bit lost that’s all. This place is bigger than you think.’ He took his glass from Degsy and drained it in one. ‘I was thinking that maybe we should get off?’
‘No can do, mate,’ said Deano.
‘Why not?’
Deano looked over Phil’s shoulder. ‘Because I think the woman of my dreams has finally come to her senses.’
Phil turned around to see the woman from the queue walking over to them. ‘For you,’ she said, handing him a torn piece of paper, ‘to thank you for your help earlier and in case you use not having anyone to go with as an excuse to chicken out.’
Phil looked at the paper in his hand. A name and mobile number written in the same gloriously
Similar Books
