An Afternoon Without a Result

Bram waited until afterwards to say Marten had ridden well. He was glad his coach had waited. It had been nice to know it entirely for himself for a while, without somebody else confirming it and instantly turning it into something he had to live up to next time.

During the endurance block there had been a moment when he hadn't merely tolerated the pace but wanted to do something with it. He had seen familiar faces and, alongside the recognition, felt a small, cheerful immodesty. Why shouldn't he be the one to try something for once? He had responded, had to work to make something of it, then come back tired and wanting to go again next time.

Afterwards Rik had slapped him on the shoulder. Not a reward, more an acknowledgement that he was apparently back in it. Marten had said he was mainly trying to get Rik out of his sight.

'Look the other way, then,' Rik had replied.

Bram had let them talk, then gone through the session with Marten. There were things to keep working on. The usual substance of such a conversation. Today Marten wasn't finished with it as quickly as the week before. He listened, asked a question and, as Bram answered, suddenly remembered why he had once found so little need for other plans.

He still felt it outside. The cold was good against his face. His bike was already in the car. He had plenty of time to go home before seeing Fenna. They had planned an afternoon without racing and without rushing to be somewhere for the next session.

Koen had called the evening before. He was considering a winter evening for customers, with a few cycling stories and a chance to ask questions. Marten could picture it at once. Not a grand talk illustrated with photographs of himself, but an ordinary evening with more going on than discounts on lights. He had described a few experiences. Koen had laughed and said he would also like to hear from a woman in the sport sometime, if Marten knew anyone.

He had mentioned Fenna. She spoke well, had something to say and wouldn't ride three laps round a question first to make herself sound nice. He had said he would bring her, that they could do it together. Koen hadn't set a date. There was only an appealing idea Marten had allowed to grow into a plan for two.

He thought about it as he drove home. He would tell her this afternoon. Something to do together, rather than another visit to a hall where they had to find each other between events. He felt helpful in a way that cost him little effort.

Fenna arrived towards two. She had suggested the swimming pool. Not to count lengths, she had added; simply to sit in warm water somewhere their phones couldn't come too. He had said yes, intending not to ask if she had planned an entirely different kind of training. She could simply fancy something as well.

She kissed him on the mouth before putting down her things. He put an arm round her. It was nice that she did that now without a cautious moment first. She looked at his face and asked how it had gone.

'Well.'

'I can see.'

'I've been practising my satisfied face.'

'It's more convincing on you.'

She laughed. He couldn't be sure whether it was about him or something he didn't know. He wanted to ask if she had heard from Denmark again, but told her about Koen first. The evening, the customers, his stories, which might this time be more useful than keeping somebody from their dinner. Then he came to her part.

'I said we could do it together.'

She looked at him. 'When?'

'There isn't a date yet.'

'No, when did you say that?'

'Yesterday. It was only an idea.'

'Yours.'

He lowered his hand. She still had her coat on. They stood in the middle of his living room and he suddenly felt he had started a conversation after skipping an important sentence.

'I thought you'd enjoy it.'

'Ask me, then.'

'Would you enjoy it?'

She shook her head. Not laughing, not very angry. 'You've already said we're coming.'

'I can call him back, can't I?'

'Yes. I would.'

He looked at her. He had all sorts of reasons ready to make it less stupid. She had wanted to talk about that opportunity herself. There was a reason Naja wanted to speak to her. She was good at explaining things. None of those reasons changed the fact that he had let Koen think she had already agreed.

'You don't have to fix anything,' she said. 'I work and I train. Sometimes on an evening off I just want to be with you.'

He had prepared himself for his plan to be rejected, and only belatedly heard what lay behind her words. She wanted to be with him. Not answer questions in a shop to turn his idea into an actual evening. Simply here, with him.

'I'll ring him in a minute,' he said.

'Good.'

She took off her coat and hung it up. He could still explain that he had only wanted to do something pleasant. He left it. He asked if she still wanted to go swimming and she said of course, as though one thing hadn't changed the other. He was grateful without quite knowing how to show it.

He rang Koen while she drank water in the kitchen. It was a short conversation. He had been too quick to say Fenna would come too, he said. That wasn't settled at all. Koen replied that it was just as well he hadn't sent anything out yet. If Marten himself wanted to, they would discuss a date and fee later.

When he rang off, Fenna stood in the doorway. He briefly held up his phone to show it was sorted. She nodded and came towards him.

'I thought that remark about riding slowly was rotten of me,' she said.

He was quiet for a moment. 'I know you didn't mean it that way.'

'I still said it.'

'Yes.'

She looked at him. He rested a hand against her face and brushed his thumb along her cheek. They didn't have to go back and improve on Wednesday's conversation. They were here now and both still wanted to go somewhere together. He picked up his bag and asked if she knew the way.

At the pool, warm water proved to be something much of Apeldoorn was interested in too. There were families, two men staying very solemnly in one spot together, and a group of women alternately laughing and saying nothing. Marten saw enough people to have to decide briefly whether he wanted to be seen. Then he saw Fenna beckon, and the question grew much simpler.

They sat in the warm section. He had expected to feel drowsy at once. At first he was mostly aware of the muscles he had worked that morning. His thighs, his shoulders. He rested his arms along the edge and looked at Fenna. Her eyes were shut and her head tipped back a little.

'I've decided this is sport too,' she said.

'Why?'

'Because I'm good at it.'

He laughed. She opened one eye to see if it had worked. He hadn't often seen somebody so visibly enjoy being right. He moved a little closer. Her foot found his and her eyes closed again.

It was tempting to recount the morning. How well it had gone, what Bram had said, what he wanted to try next. He could make a whole conversation of it, in which he felt useful, interesting and reasonably happy. He stayed where he was. Water moved round them. Somewhere a child called for somebody who didn't hear. Fenna moved her foot against his.

After a while she looked up. 'Have you fallen asleep?'

'I'm thinking.'

'Allowed here too.'

'I was just about to ask whether I still had to achieve anything.'

'You're sitting rather upright. You could do less of that.'

He sank a little lower. She looked satisfied and leaned her shoulder against him. They talked about nothing for which he needed an answer. The toothbrush she was always losing, a neighbour who seemed unsure every time they said hello whether he knew her, the child now apparently trying to gather the entire family at once. He told her about his nephew, who for a while had thought Marten existed only in cycling shorts. At his sister's birthday he had asked, disappointed, why Marten wore ordinary trousers.

'I can understand him,' Fenna said.

He turned towards her. 'This is a very unsuitable place to say that.'

'You started it.'

She kissed him briefly. Not long enough to attract more attention than necessary, and long enough to make him wonder if they could go home earlier. She looked at him and shook her head. She wanted to sit a little longer first. He found that increasingly bearable.

When they later swam a few easy lengths, she didn't make a race of it. He expected her to. He noticed himself looking sideways and had to laugh when she asked if he was afraid of losing.

'I wanted to see if you were still coming.'

'I'm here.'

He turned towards her. They stayed facing each other in the water for a moment, with the sound of everyone else round them. She moved closer and brushed a wet lock of hair off his forehead. Then she pointed to the side.

Outside, the afternoon had grown colder. They walked to the car and zipped their coats without finding it awkward that both suddenly had less to say. He put on the heating. Fenna rested her head against the seat.

'Do you want to eat at mine tonight?' she asked.

'Only if you don't have to do anything special.'

'I never have to do anything special. Sometimes I want to.'

He nodded. She rested her hand on his leg, quite ordinarily, without looking at him. At the first traffic light he glanced at her. She smiled without raising her head.

At her flat he let her go first. He hung up his coat and stood in the doorway for a moment while she put on the light. She looked back and asked if he wanted to say something else.

'No,' he said. 'I'm just looking.'

She let him look. Then she came back, took his hand and drew him into the room.