‘Oh. Did you see anyone near the boat today?’
‘I haven’t long come back in from work. I was just trying to get some painting done before it’s completely dark.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m sorry if I can’t help with the mystery but, since you’re here, do you want to come in for a coffee? I’m done for the night. It’s getting too dark.’
Although I have knocked on the houseboat door a few times, I have never been inside. In fact, I haven’t been inside anybody’s houseboat yet and I’m intrigued to know what they’re like, so I gladly accept his offer. Besides, it isn’t like I have anything planned for this evening except felting and, after three strong beers, stabbing a needle into a piece of foam is probably not the wisest idea. I don’t even know where the nearest A&E is yet.
Abe and Ted lead me inside the houseboat, where the delicious aroma of a hearty stew hits me right away.
‘Something smells very nice.’
‘I’m makingDraadjesvlees. My gran’s special recipe for beef and onion stew. It comes with a serving of boiled potatoes and red cabbage. You fancy some?’
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t. You keep it for you and Beatrix.’
‘No, I’m happy to share. Beatrix isn’t here tonight. There’s plenty. Please, be my guest.’
If the smell is anything to go by it is far too tasty to decline. I also realise I should eat something after spending the afternoon at the canal-side bar.
‘Okay. That would be lovely, thank you.’
‘Great. I’ll set the table for two.’
As Abe goes into the kitchen drawer to get the cutlery out, I scan the living area and open kitchen. It has a similar layout to my place, and I sit on the comfortable sofa with its grey throw and take in the small oakwood dining table with its two black stools. It’s no-frills, but it’s homely and cosy. A mahogany bookcase beside the sofa looks as though it is straining with the heavy books it holds. While much of the furniture is simple, the walls show Abe’s casual style. A photo of Abe and Beatrix, who look as though they are dressed for a special occasion, sits on a small side table. An eclectic collection of black-and-white photographs of famous people decorates the walls. A Jimi Hendrix portrait hangs beside a print of Dean Martin and a Marilyn Monroe print sits beside Joaquin Phoenix. It’s an interesting collection.
‘So, you like famous people?’ I ask, indicating the walls.
‘I like classics. They’re all classics from the past. These prints are stories of a bygone era. I mean, I don’t live in the past, but it was a cool time in music and the arts in those days. Now everything seems like it’s all the same. Industries are so regimented – in those days everything seemed free. I feel like now we are being told what to listen to and how to live and I don’t like that.’
‘Yeah, I get that. Who wants to conform, hey?’
‘Exactly. I told you we got each other.’ Abe smiles and I play with my hair self-consciously. Fortunately, dinner is ready, so I don’t have to look into those piercing, playful eyes for too long.
‘Would you like some wine with your meal?’
‘Oh, no, thank you. I’ve had enough for one day. I found a fabulous craft beer place. It was quite strong stuff.’
‘Yeah, you need to be careful of those craft beers. How about a glass of home-made lemonade?’
‘You make your own lemonade?’
‘It’s just stuff I make for the coffee shop. I bring home what I have left. You want to try it?’
‘I’d love to.’ Seriously? Abe is a man who not only looks cool in his painting dungarees but cooks beautiful hearty dinners and even makes his own lemonade. Beatrix has truly struck gold! But then it occurs to me that nobody is this fantastic, and I wonder if he has secrets to hide.
Still, as I tuck into the stew with little Ted at my feet, I feel so at home. Why are houseboats so cosy and blissful? Anything in the world could be happening on the outside, but inside here with Abe and Ted, it’s so peaceful and calm. It’s just glorious.
Over dinner, Abe tells me about his day at work and how he made ten Dutch waffles before nine thirty a.m. I somehow can’t imagine him in his previous career in finance. The waffle-making lifestyle suits him much better.
‘It’s amazing how you used to be in finance but are happier now aroundstroopwafelsand home-made lemonade. I love what you’ve done, but I’m intrigued as to what you were like before.’
‘I suppose I was more driven then. I guess we change as we get older. We learn what’s important in life and what we truly want. It’s not the same as when you’re younger and have big dreams.’
‘You’re so right. That’s exactly what happened with my ex-husband, Paul. He wanted to go back to Australia and live a different life. One without me.’ I am starting to wonder if all these men are going through the manopause or something.
‘I don’t know why he’d want to live it without you.’
