May

The customer wanted to know whether Marten cycled himself. He had his hands on the handlebars of a bike he hadn't bought yet and was looking at Marten's shoes. Ordinary shoes, with a splash of rain on one toe. Marten had ridden his old bike to the shop that morning.

'Yes,' he said.

'A bit, or seriously?'

Behind the counter, Koen looked up. Marten saw him and decided not to give him the satisfaction.

'Regularly. What do you want to use it for?'

The man explained. First he told Marten everything he'd done in the past, then where he wanted to go now. Marten let him finish. They got to rides with his wife, a longer trip he had in mind for the summer and the annoying fact that he kept getting sore in all the wrong places. Marten asked more questions. Where he couldn't assess something himself, he brought his colleague over.

After a while the man went outside to try a bike. Koen came to stand beside Marten.

'A bit, or seriously?' he repeated.

'I nearly said I only went shopping on mine these days.'

'Then he'd have known straight away why you know your panniers.'

Marten laughed. He watched the man. A woman with a child came along the pavement; the man got off to let them pass. Then he set off again, a little less hesitantly. Marten liked being able to watch that for a moment.

By closing time, he knew he was finished. There was work for next week, but nothing he needed to stay behind for now to prove he took it seriously. Koen wished him a good weekend and told him to give Fenna his best. He'd arranged the Saturday off weeks ago.

Outside, Marten took out his phone. She'd sent a voice message from the kitchen of the house where she lived. She was speaking quietly because someone in the background was on the phone, but couldn't keep it up once she started talking about training. He listened beside his bike. Two sentences in, he was smiling. She was looking forward to tomorrow. So was he.

When he actually saw her on Saturday afternoon, she was explaining why she was a little later getting to the station than last time. She stopped as soon as she reached him. He kissed her and felt her arms go round him.

'You can finish your story,' he said.

'Later. I should have done this first.'

She took his hand. Her hair was loose and she was wearing an ordinary T-shirt he remembered from her visit at the end of March. She'd spent a few days in the Netherlands, stayed with him, seen her mother, visited Madelon and, on one occasion, stood crossly in his kitchen because they'd both left it too late to eat. He remembered that last part with pleasure. He still thought about it often, even on ordinary evenings at home on his own.

He put his small bag beside the bed, in the same place as on his last visit. Fenna threw her coat on the bed and asked whether he wanted to eat first or pretend they weren't hungry first.

'How long are we talking?' he asked.

'That depends on you.'

He pulled her towards him. She laughed, held his face and kissed him with such care that he forgot where he'd put his bag. Outside, someone was washing a car. For a few seconds they heard music through the window, and then they didn't hear it at all.

Later they went downstairs. Her landlady asked in English whether he'd had a good journey. She knew him by now. He asked about the plant that had barely had any leaves last time. The woman glanced towards the window and said he evidently paid enough attention to be allowed back. Fenna didn't translate anything he'd understood himself. She did come and stand beside him, resting her hand on his lower back.

Over dinner she told him about a conversation with Naja. She wanted to improve a particular part of her riding and had been angry that she could do it one day and not the next. Naja had asked her a question she'd initially answered wrongly, mainly because she'd been so keen to know already what was going wrong.

'And then?' Marten asked.

'Then I had to explain it better.'

'Sounds tough.'

'Needlessly tough. She could just have guessed.'

He laughed. He didn't have to solve it to enjoy hearing about it. Fenna wanted to know how his week had been too. He told her about the man who'd asked whether he cycled seriously. She looked at him, already on the verge of laughing.

'What did you say?'

'That I often visited someone to talk about cycling.'

'You didn't.'

'No.'

'Shame. That's one of your most demanding events.'

He moved his chair closer. She put her hand on his leg, quite openly in the light above the table. He found her attractive as she chewed, thought, held up a finger to make him wait because there was something else she wanted to tell him. He wanted to know what her next month looked like too.

At the beginning of June she'd be coming to the Netherlands again for a few days. The trip was booked. She'd already asked him to keep one evening free when they wouldn't have to go anywhere else. He'd checked his diary and said yes. The name of the month didn't make it any less real than their plans for this afternoon.

They talked about the summer too. The funded period ran until the end of July. After that, Fenna would have to decide what the next stage of her cycling would look like. He didn't ask whether that meant she'd be coming back for good this time. She didn't let the conversation end with what she didn't yet know either.

'When I'm back, I don't want to have to be everywhere for everyone straight away,' she said. 'I want to be able to go away with you too.'

'For a few days?'

'Yes. Without there just happening to be a race nearby.'

'We'd better get a map out now, then. There are a lot of dangerous places.'

She smiled. He told her when it would be possible to take a longer break from the shop. They didn't choose a trip yet. They did choose a few days to keep for themselves once her return was settled. They talked about places neither of them had ever been. Fenna admitted she mostly knew roads between one velodrome and another.

On Sunday they hired two ordinary bikes. Fenna had planned a route she'd ridden once herself. She said there was somewhere they could get good food. Marten asked whether there was anything to see on the way.

'You do have to make a bit of an effort for your lunch.'

'I thought that was why I'd come to Denmark.'

She got on and looked back. He followed. It was warmer than on his last visit, the light lingering on the houses and people no longer doing their coats all the way up. Fenna knew the turnings now without getting her phone out. He loved riding behind her and seeing her know exactly where she was going.

At a junction he had to wait for her to notice he was no longer beside her. She came back and pointed to the road she'd meant to take. He hadn't misunderstood; he'd just thought they were staying together.

'You're not that slow,' she said.

'Thanks.'

'I wasn't trying to lose you.'

'I didn't think you were.'

They stayed closer together after that. Where the path narrowed, one went ahead of the other. He liked watching her, the way she sometimes pointed with her head at something she'd seen beside the road.

On a quieter stretch she drew alongside him. She asked whether he still rode with Rik. Last Monday, he said. They hadn't made it to the coffee stop they'd originally planned. A stretch of road had been closed, and afterwards they'd decided there was no reason they had to get there after all.

'Were you back before dark?'

'Easily. We're not as fanatical these days.'

'I haven't seen you go particularly slowly, though.'

He looked at her. 'I can.'

'That's not proof.'

She looked so serious he started laughing. Fenna dropped back a little and stayed beside him at a pace that didn't have to get them anywhere in particular. They watched a man in his garden who seemed to be rearranging the entire contents of a wheelbarrow, and passed a child calling his mother over to look at something very small on the ground.

They got off at the place Fenna had chosen. They left the bikes and went for a short walk before going inside. He took her hand. She pulled him towards the sunny side of the path.

'I'm glad you like this too,' she said.

'What?'

'This. Just going for a bike ride with me.'

He stopped for a moment. She looked back, a little shy about what she'd asked. He kissed her.

'I'm here for you,' he said. 'And it is nice that you know the way.'

'That second part isn't guaranteed.'

'I'd gathered that.'

She gave him a shove and started laughing. He held her hand as they walked on. Inside they found a table by the window. They ordered food, and Fenna wanted to know whether he wanted some of the cake she'd seen too.

'This first,' he said.

'Says someone who'll want half of mine later.'

'That was the plan, yes.'

'I'll get two forks, just in case.'

She looked at him. He recognised that eagerness to share a joke, the same he'd felt with her that first evening. He leaned across the table and kissed her. She put her fingers under his chin and kept him there a moment longer.

On Monday he'd go home. On Tuesday he'd work. Fenna would keep riding here, asking Naja questions, sometimes so tired she'd stop listening halfway through a story. By now he knew the things she said when that happened. She knew that after a busy Saturday he didn't always feel like recounting his whole day in the right order either. They kept calling each other. There were afternoons when all they sent was something trivial, precisely because they wanted the other one there.

She let him try her drink because she thought he'd chosen badly. He tasted it, pulled a face and pushed it back. She began to laugh and pointedly took another sip.

The food arrived. Fenna breathed in the smell, looked pleased and moved her plate to the middle so he could have a bite too. He took his fork, tried a piece and saw her waiting for his reaction.

'Good,' he said.

'Thought so.'

He took another bite from his own plate. Fenna looked outside, looked back at Marten and rested her foot against his.

When they'd finished, she got up to order something else. He asked what she was doing. She pointed at the display case.

'You said this first. We've done that.'

He laughed. She came back with one slice of cake and two forks, sat down beside him and took the first bite.