Together they went downstairs, the smells and sounds emanating through the kitchen door telling them that breakfast was already underway.
‘Sam, hi!’ she said brightly, bracing her stomach for its usual flip as he turned back to face them, looking Saturday-morning incongruous in last night’s dinner shirt and trousers, his velvet jacket draped across the kitchen chair. It was not helpful to have him looking so good.
‘Spider-Man!’ Sam pressed the spatula to his chest. ‘It would be an honour to cook for you. Thank you for keeping our city safe.’
Lee laughed, looking down at Jasper. He looked back up at her with excited eyes. ‘Do you think we should tell him?’ she asked.
Jasper nodded solemnly. ‘I’m not Spider-Man!’ he cried, dramatically pulling off the mask and making his dark hair stand on end. ‘I’m Jasper!’
‘Jasper?! Oh my goodness, that is crazy! Is it really you?’ He knelt down as Jasper ran over to prove it. Gently, Sam prodded his cheeks and inspected his hair. ‘It really is, isn’t it? That’s amazing. I thought you were the real Spider-Man back there!’ He held his hand up for a high five. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘I’ve still got my koala picture.’
‘Well, I’m glad about that, because it’s the only one in the world.’ He rose to standing again. ‘Tell me, do you like pancakes?’
Jasper nodded.
‘Do you like them with strawberries and cream, or banana and maple syrup?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never had that before.’
‘Well, given that I don’t have any bananas or cream, it might have to be strawberries and maple syrup?’ Lee suggested.
Sam stared at her for a moment. ‘Interesting combination,’ he quipped, before shrugging. ‘Let’s go with that.’
‘Can I help?’ asked Jasper.
‘Sure you can. You can pull the tops off the strawberries for me if you like?’
Lee stood at the island, watching them both as Jasper climbed up onto the kitchen stool and Sam passed him the bowl of berries, the two of them chatting easily as though they did this every Saturday morning. It was almost too beautiful to watch, her son welcoming this man without hesitation. It was everything she had feared.
‘Coffee. Strong and black, as I recall,’ Sam said, handing her one, deliberately holding the cup a moment too long and drawing her gaze to his, showing her with a single look that he knew what she was thinking.
‘Thanks.’
He winked, turning back to Jasper again. ‘Those are perfect.’
Feeling surprisingly redundant, she wandered over to the window, pulling back the curtains and allowing the day to fall in.
‘Oh my God!’ she gasped. ‘Jasper, look!’
He scrambled off the stool and shot over to her, looking out of the large square windows onto the scene outside. Sam came and joined them too, watching a few early birds skating on the canal. Several more people were sitting on the edge of the dock and tying their boots.
‘Can we, mama? Oh please!’
She scanned the length of the canal she could see between the bridges at either end, looking for holes or thinner patches of ice, but it looked reassuringly opaque and strong. ‘I think it should be okay,’ she murmured.
‘I’ll go check, as soon as we’ve eaten breakfast,’ Sam said, squeezing Jasper’s shoulder and returning to the pancakes, pouring the first disc into the pan. ‘But it looks good from here.’
‘Do you skate?’ Jasper asked, trotting after him like a foal.
‘Oh yes. It’s my favourite sport. I grew up doing it as often as I could. My father skated in the last Elfstedentocht.’
‘No way!’ Jasper gasped. Even at the tender age of five, he had been indoctrinated into Dutch folklore.
‘Seriously?’ Lee asked, equally amazed. It was the Dutch equivalent of being an Olympian, if not more so – plenty of the Olympic ice-skating team had announced they would prioritize an Elfstedentocht over a Games.
‘Yes.’ He took the first pancake off the heat and placed it on a plate, before pouring the next. He looked back at Jasper. ‘I wasn’t much older than you are now when he raced; I remember watching him with my brother, the weather was so bad . . . We had made a banner for him, and we cheered so hard when he passed us that my brother lost his voice for three days afterwards.’
Jasper looked rapt as he knelt on the stool.
‘Do you think it’ll happen this year?’ Lee asked him, sinking onto the sill. Every night now, as the high pressure remained stuck over the country, the growing possibility of it being