Page 3 of You've Got The Love
I let out a short laugh that feels a little too forced.London.Right. Just a coincidence. It has to be. No way this ties back to Dad. He would’ve told me if something was going down.
I push the thought aside, take a steadying breath, and busy myself collecting flowers for my appointment.
Chapter 2
Bastiaan
This journey is a long one, but I love the time it gives me to be alone and clear my head. To sort my thoughts and cut through all the noise swirling around in my mind. The drive from home—Holland—throughBelgiumand intoFranceto the ferry port is truly beautiful. I always feel so grateful to live where I do. It’s just so pure, so clean. The air is fresh, and the scenery is such a lush green, its breathtaking. I love my job, hauling flowers fromHollandto the south ofEnglandin my blue articulatedMercedes Actrostruck, full to the brim with flowers of all shapes, colours, and varieties. I love being on the road—always have—my father was a trucker, so I guess it's in my genes. As I drive toward the port that will take me toEngland, I finally allow myself to think of her. To imagine her laughing, her blonde curls falling into her face, looking up at me in that shy way she does, and biting her lip.Fuck, that gets me every time. This is also the time when the guilt starts to weigh heaviest. Guilt thatsays I have no right feeling these things for someone who isn’t my wife, someone who I didn’t vow to love until my last breath. I shift in my seat, feeling the hours I haven’t moved in my lower back. This is a top-of-the-line truck and costing nearly €190,000, you’d think I’d have a throne to sit on. The seats are comfortable, but sitting for hours on end, day after day, will ruin your back regardless of how good the seat is. I pull into a service station just outside ofLe Harve, France, to use the amenities, stretch, and fill up the tank.
I haul myself back up into the cabin of my truck and pull the curtains to lie down for a bit. This bed is great, especially for a truck. I have decent bedding too, which is unusual for truckers; I’ve seen some of the other guys’ bedding, and it’s terrible; I wouldn’t let an animal sleep on some of it. My truck was brand new when I got assigned it, so I’ve been the only one to sleep in the bed in here, along with Abel, of course. He’s such a happy kid, which, as a parent, especially a single parent, is all you can ask for. My goal in life is to make sure he knows he’s loved, to know he’ll always have my support. He loves my truck; it's like a playground for him, just like my dad's was to me when I was young. I grabmy cell phone to check the time and decide to FaceTime my sister, Sanne, who takes care of Abel when I’m working.
“Hello, brother,” Sanne greets me with her usual smile. We share the same dirty blonde hair as our father, before he started to go grey, that is, and we both have it long. Mine is wavy with a slight undercut, which I always keep in a bun, and hers is long and straight as a dart. Sanne is always in a good mood; you’ll rarely catch her in a bad one, but if you do, watch out! She scares even me, and given I’m her older brother and stand a lofty 6’6” to her 5’1”, that’s saying something. That being said, she has a calming way about her that very few people possess; she's always been a safe place for me. She definitely takes after our mother in that way.
“Hi, sis. How’s the day going? How is my boy? Is he around?” I ask, needing to see him. I miss him terribly when I’m away.
“Lovely day. Mama and Pa are coming over for dinner tonight, so Abel and I just made bread. He loves learning anything new, your son.Abel!Your father is on the phone,” Sanne calls out to him.
I hear his footsteps as he runs over the wooden floors, which makes me laugh. He has so much energy, but then again, he is six years old, so I wouldn’t expect anything less.
“Pa!” Abel shouts excitedly as he takes the phone from his aunt.
“Son. How was school today?” I beam at him when I finally see his gappy smile. “You finally lost the tooth, huh. TheTandenfeewill be visiting you tonight.”
“It came out when I was eating an apple and got stuck in it. It was so gross and cool. Tante Sanne wrapped it in tissue so I can put it under my pillow tonight,” he tells me excitedly. He’s been wiggling that thing for the last week.
“That does sound cool. How much do you think theTandenfeewill leave tonight? One euro?” I ask, trying to keep a serious face, but laughing out loud when he looks at me like I’ve gone mad.
“No way! Pieter got ten euros for his front tooth!” He tells me with his eyebrows up in his hairline, like we are discussing something super serious. Pieter is Abel’s partner-in-crime; they’ve been thick as thieves since they were at crèche together as toddlers.
“Well, he’ll have to bring you the same, won’t he. That wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Let me see this bread you and Tante Sanne made before I go. Got to get to the port for my crossing soon,” I say, looking at him in wonder. This human being is mine. I helped to make him. Sometimes it blows my mind that I created something so perfect that I’m in charge of raising him to be a decent man. He’s truly one of the wonders of the world to me.
I stretch out and rest my hand behind my head as I watch Abel move the camera around to show me his loaf of bread proudly. I could listen to him chatter on forever; his excitement calms me, makes me think I’m doing somethingright where raising him is concerned. I never want him to feel shortchanged by only having one parent. He always asks questions about his mama, he is so inquisitive—just like she was—and I’m always happy to answer as I love that he wants to know about her, but fuck, it’s hard sometimes. He knows she’s up amongst the stars.
“Well, son, save me a slice or two, it looks delicious. Good job. I’ve got to get back on the road now, or I’ll miss my crossing. I’ll see you in a few days. Love you to the stars and beyond,” I tell him seriously.
“Love you to the stars and beyond, too, Pa,” he smiles his newly gappy smile at me.
I disconnect and just lie there for a minute, staring at the dark blue ceiling, thinking how much he looks like her—his mother—and remembering the day I lost her, my beautiful Marieke—the worst and best day of my life. I allow myself a few minutes in my memories, recalling the day we found out we were expecting Abel. She had that beautiful glow some women get when they are pregnant. She was always beautiful, but pregnant?Off the charts. I push those thoughts away, back into that part of my mind that I rarely revisit, the darkest parts of me that I can’t allow myself to go back to. It’s not just me anymore, and Abel doesn’t deserve a father drowning in grief and boiling anger. I sit up quickly, scrubbing a hand over my face and rubbing my short beard, and decide to make myself akoffie verkeerdto wake myself up a bit.
I grab my food and thermos and jump down from my truck. I walk around it, doing my checks to make sure it’s fully secure before I make my way up to the passenger level of the ferry. It’s a big thing, this ferry. It's not the biggest I’ve been on, but I prefer it as there isn’t as many passengers. There are never people without seats, so I rarely have to sit next to someone. This particular boat is starting to show its age with the deep red velvet seats and deep red and gold swirled carpet. I grab one of my regular spots tucked away, but with a view of the waves, and pour myself a drink. I have a good few hours on here, there’s over 100 miles of sea to cross, so I get comfortable and let my mind drift to her. She’s been a constant in my thoughts for a long time now, imagining life were different, and that I could give in to my attraction to her. I shake my head at that; attraction doesn’t even come near to whatever it is I feel for this girl. There isn’t a name for it, not one I’m happy with using yet, but guilt is wrapped up in it, making me feel like the biggest arsehole ever. I stretch out my legs in front of me and look out at the choppy waves, which makes me smile ruefully. The waves paint the perfect picture of what my mind feels like right now. They work against each other, crashing together, just like my thoughts and emotions.
I grab my cheese sandwich, wishing it were something much more exciting, and continue to watch the sea as I eat. It’s kind of relaxing; hypnotic, almost. It’s nothing like the lake next to my home, which is calm as far as the eye can see, with reeds and other seagrasses around the edge. I love walking out and having my morningkoffie verkeerdas I take in the fresh air and the stillness of the morning. It’s serene, and so tranquil. In the years since Abel was born, I needed that. I craved the quiet and aloneness my home provided me. It’s only in the last few years that I’ve started to seek out company, even my family's company. I needed to shut myself away for a while. I didn’t want people to see me as I was, especially my mama; it would have killed her, and she didn’t deserve that. But, turns out, I missed my family too much to keep at the ‘lone wolf’ way of life for too long. Sanne refused point-blank to let me cut her out, which makes me huff out a quiet laugh just thinking how she used to threaten to break in if I didn’t answer my door, which always made me answer, as she absolutely would have broken a window or something to get in. There’s no way I would have been able to keep her away.
The captain’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers, letting the passengers know to make their way to their vehicles and foot passengers to the correct deck. With one last look outside, I stand up and make my way to my truck and closer toher.
Chapter 3
Amber
“Oh my God!” I laugh, tears streaming down my face as I grab a piece of kitchen roll to dab them away after seeing the picture Jess just got sent fromMr Wears-a-suit-to-the-pub.
“I told you; these guys send‘dick-pics’all the time! Even when you explicitly tell them that you don’t want anything to do with them, they think if they send you a picture of their‘dong’that you’ll be rabid for them. Urgh. Bell-ends,” Jess tells me as if it’s completely normal to be sent a picture of a guy's‘dong’, as she so eloquently put it. I’m not a prude by any means, but I haven’t ever been the unlucky recipient of such a picture, thank God.
I glance at the clock, again, feeling that light crackle of expectation under my skin, knowing he’ll be here soon, it makes me feel impatient and excited all rolled into one.
“Wow, why do they feel the need to spread that around? I mean, they certainly are fun to play with,but bloody ugly to look at,” I comment, grinning as I shake my head. We are definitely a different breed to men.
“What the fuck?” Jess says out loud, which doesn’t cause me alarm anymore. It happens at random points of the day; she’ll tell me if there’s a real problem. I continue working on my order: a beautiful hand-tied bouquet of two dozen cream,‘Akito’roses with sprigs of eucalyptus. I love working with eucalyptus as the smell clings to your hands for hours after and every so often you’ll get a whiff of the unique scent. I don’t know how many arrangements I’ve made in my life to date, but it never grows old. It still amazes me that I am capable of creating these artistic pieces, that my hands can do this. It’s so therapeutic, and it’s without doubt my favourite thing to do.
