‘Have you done this before?’ Hendrik asks, snapping me back to our boat.
‘No, never,’ I reply.
He looks shocked. He doesn’t remember our conversation, probably because he’s had ten others just like it this week. I wonder how often he takes girls pedal-boating.
He dedicates a good couple of minutes to talking me through the mechanics of riding one of these things and I sit there patiently, nervously trying to commit it to memory. But once we get started, I realise that the term ‘pedal boat’ is quite literal – you put your feet on the pedals and the boat will move. With the tutorial out of the way, we get started and slowly make our way down the canal.
‘So, did you grow up here?’ I ask.
‘No, Utrecht – about thirty miles away. Moved here at twenty to start taking my career seriously.’
‘Oh, yeah, personal training, right?’ I ask.
I committed his profile to memory before leaving the hotel room. I wanted to make sure I could put my best foot forward and leave no room for awkward silence. Plus, I felt it was important to have all my facts straight in case he did turn out to be a murderer.
‘Yeah, personal training.’ He nods. ‘It’s tough, but it’s very fulfilling. Great to see people transform right in front of me.’
‘That’s so sweet,’ I say.
The boat keeps getting faster as his legs move at twice the speed of mine. I catch him stealing glances at my own and feela wave of shame rush over me. He can definitely tell that I’ve skipped the last ten years of leg days. I speed up.
‘Yeah, I try to do my part. Do you go to the gym?’ he asks.
I lie. ‘Yeah, I love it!’
My thighs are burning.
‘Which one have you been going to here?’ he asks.
‘I only got here yesterday and I’m leaving again on Friday,’ I say.
It’s not enough – he still waits. I try again.
‘I haven’t had a chance to sign up yet.’
And I won’t be signing up at all. Who joins a gym on holiday, let alone when they’re in a city for less than a week?
‘I can probably get you into mine.’
‘You’re too kind,’ I say.
‘I offer three free sessions a month. It’s a great way to attract new clients,’ he continues.
He rows even faster. My denim-clad thighs thrash against each other as I try to keep up.
‘Shall we stop for a bit? The lights are so pretty, I’d love to have a proper look,’ I ask.
I try to sound as breezy as I can, but even I can hear the breathlessness in my voice. He chuckles.
‘We’re only just gaining momentum,’ he says, glancing at his sports watch. ‘I just reached an active heart rate. If we don’t keep this up, then there’s no way I’ll tap into my peak zone.’
I nod in agreement and do my best to blink back my metaphorical tears. Of all the ways we could have activated our heart rates, this was not top of my list. He picks up speed again.
‘So, what’s your personal gym routine like?’ I ask.
His eyes light up and my stomach quells. That should keep him busy for a bit. I zone out as he rambles about Kgs and PBs, preserving my breath for the pedalling.
By the time our ride comes to a close, we’re so far ahead of Noah and his date that we’re left waiting idly by the canal’s edge. The conversation’s still flowing, thankfully. Hendrik can talk enough for us both once you get him started on anything fitness related. I listen closely while he takes me through his weekly meal plan, my eyes darting to scan the water for any sign of Noah’s boat. I hear their laughter a good couple of minutes before they actually pull up at the port. They’re still holding hands as they pedal and I feel a bitter pang of envy. His boat looks so much warmer, so much more inviting. I imagine what it would have been like to go round the canal with him.
