‘That’s some big decision-making. And you one-eightied all because of our talk over a couple of Manhattans?’
‘No. It’s a tiny thought that’s popped into my head a couple of times this past week. Being in New York is inspiring, and it reminded me how much I love being just what you said – a city girl. I’m sure one day I might live in the country and love that too, but for now, I don’t want to move away. I want to be able to go out and buy a weird snack at eleven p.m. if I feel hungry. I want to be able to go to the theatre on the spur of the moment. I want to walk to Kim’s house whenever I want, whether she likes it or not. So up yours, Kevin, I might not forget what you did but I can forget about the life we planned together, and live my own life instead.’
‘Bravo! Up yours, Kevin, you douchebag!’
‘Yeah!’ I laughed, my eyes running over the skyscrapers, glittering in the night sky. ‘How about you? Had any epiphanies on this holiday?’
‘No.’ He chuckled, keeping his eyes forward, and my heart sank a little. As much as I was scared about him admitting any feelings to me, I still felt conflicted about whether I wanted him to have them or not. ‘Well, unless you count that I’ve realised that Carl might be my best friend. Did you know he’s quite funny? Especially on a night out.’
I shook my head, laughing. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Any other epiphanies I had happened long ago for me.’
‘Dani?’ I hated myself for asking.
‘What? No, not Dani.’
‘She’s a lovely person. Nice hair. Have you two had something going on for a while?’
Jon looked at me, really looked at me. ‘No,’ he said.
I could kiss him. Right now I could kiss him and I was pretty sure he’d want me to. But … if I did it would change everything between us, and I was still a little woozy, and my skin still had Elijah’s touch and Elijah’s kisses on it. It just didn’t feel like the right moment. Would it ever be the right moment? I didn’t know, but I knew I shouldn’t decide now.
‘It’s getting a bit cold,’ I murmured.
‘OK,’ he replied, nodding with understanding. We went back inside, and though a part of me wanted nothing more than to climb back under the covers with him, I bid him goodnight at the bedroom door, and closed it behind me.
‘Good morning,’ I said, rolling over to see Abigail awake, sitting up in bed, texting.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I have a really big hangover. I threw up in the bin.’
‘What kind of a bin is it?’
‘Just a plastic one.’
‘That’s OK then, it’ll wash out. Boyfriend OK?’
She sighed. ‘Yeah. He says he just wants me to come home now.’
‘I bet he does.’
‘I also texted Jasmine, just to check in.’ Abigail rubbed her face and yawned. I felt a pang – I really should have been the one checking in with Jasmine. ‘I asked if she wanted to come over, but she said no.’
I felt petty and unsure what to say, so I changed the subject. ‘Do you want a cup of tea? Or coffee?’
‘Can I have a really really strong coffee, and a new head, please?’
I got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror before I opened the door. I looked a bit bedraggled. But bugger it.
‘Good morn—’ Where were Jon and Carl? I padded over to the kettle, flicked it on, and then went to the window. The snow had thickened overnight and New York was looking more like a scene from Serendipity than ever. At this rate Britain would thaw out and we’d get snowbound in New York instead. I grabbed an extra jumper of Jon’s that was lying on the sofa bed and finished making the coffees, delivering one to Abigail, who had fallen asleep again with her phone in her hand.
I was about to flop down and watch some American morning TV and pretend I couldn’t hear Dee and Ian doing it in the guest room when I heard a noise at the front door, like a small scratch.
Opening it, I was faced with an extra-large red retriever, who looked up at me with big soulful eyes and a singular ‘woof’.
‘Well, hi,’ I said, sitting down on the step and facing the dog. ‘Who are you?’
He gave me his paw.
‘Thank you. Do you live in this apartment block? What do you do for a living?’
He blinked at me, and I heard a small giggle from above. I looked up, and a tumble of curly hair hid a face that was peeping down at me. ‘He doesn’t have a job!’ the curly hair cried.
‘Oh you don’t?’ I addressed the dog. ‘Well how do you afford to go to the hairdresser’s and get this lovely red dye put in?’
‘That’s his real fur colour!’ exclaimed the little girl from under the hair. She ran down the spiral staircase two at a time from the floor above. ‘His name is Chewy, and he’s a really bad dog, because he knows how to open our door so he keeps coming downstairs to visit our neighbours. Were you making coffee?’
‘I was … would you like one?’
‘No, I’m six and a half! But Chewy loves the smell of coffee – I bet he was scratching at your door, huh?’
‘He was.’
‘Are you staying with Lara? I thought she went home to her mummy and daddy upstate?’
Chewy settled down in front of me, his big tummy wide open for a rub. ‘She did, but my friends and I are staying in her home because we can’t go back to our homes in England at the moment, because it’s too snowy and the airports are shut.’
‘Airports don’t shut in the snow!’
‘British ones do – we don’t have snow very often, not like here, so we don’t have all the equipment to deal with it.’
‘So you’re all from England? Can I meet everyone?’ The little girl had wide eyes and she peered past me into the apartment.
‘They’re asleep at the moment, but maybe later.’ The last thing I needed was a little girl witnessing Dee and Ian Cirque-du-Soleiling around the bedroom in the buff. ‘I’m Olivia.’
‘I’m Steph. Did you know that Sir Walter Raleigh was an English explorer who sailed to America back in 1578?’
Oh my god, she was this kind of a girl. My kind of a girl. ‘I did know that – you like history?’
‘Kind of,’ said Steph, playing with Chewy’s ears. ‘I like exploring. I have this book that I borrowed from my school library all about explorers and how they went to all these new places and collected things to bring home, and there are old maps that show what the world used to look like. But you know what?’
‘What?’
‘Even though there are now people all over the place, even at Costco on Christmas Day, Mom says, I think there’s still more to explore.’
‘Oh, there’s plenty more. And just because other people have been to places doesn’t mean you can’t explore them too. And some people go and explore space – there’s lots of that to discover.’
Steph nodded, grinning. ‘My grandfather says I should marry an explorer because I’ll get free holidays for life.’
‘You know what would be even cooler?’
‘What?’
‘If you grew up to be the explorer. Have you heard of Ellen MacArthur?’
Steph and Chewy thought for a moment. ‘No.’
‘She sailed all the way around the world on her own, faster than anyone else ever has.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know.’
Steph stood up. ‘OK, I have to take Chewy out to make peepee. I’m going to take him down by the East River today, in case Ellen MacArthur’s going by.’
I waved her goodbye and took a gulp of my coffee, remaining outside the apartment on the step. I took out my phone and firstly tried Anne again – no answer – so I left her a voicemail to say we were still here but hoping to leave the day before Christmas Eve, and then I called Kim.
‘We are such twins – I was just going to call you!’ Kim answered. ‘Are you still in New York? How’s Elijahhhhh? Did you get the D yet?’
‘I am still in New York, Elijah is … gone … D and all, thank the lord. And I have a pro
blem.’
‘What?’
‘I think I might like Jon.’
Kim squealed down the line. ‘Steve, Liv said she thinks she likes Jon!’
‘No, don’t tell Steve.’
‘Steve wants to speak to you.’
‘No … ’
‘Hi, Liv.’
‘Hi, Steve.’
‘You have to go for it with Jon. I really need you to stop being the gooseberry in Kim and I’s rela— Ouch! I’m kidding! Liv, he sounds so nice, and I need another guy friend to hang out with, so if you like him can you just go for it?’
‘But I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.’
Steve laughed. ‘Of course you don’t. But are you going to deliberately not be with someone who makes you happy, just to try and prove a point?’
Kim came back on the line. ‘So how did this happen? I need to know everything. Have you kissed?’
‘No, no, we’re not there yet. I’ve just been doing some soul-searching. Letting myself think things through properly. A Christmas present to myself, as it were.’
‘And you just decided you liked him?’
‘It’s more that … I stopped being such a big fat brick wall, and now I can see a bit clearer. I’ve been Berlin-walled.’
At that point I heard voices and looked down over the spiral staircase to see Jon and Carl, hair wet from the falling snow, and clothes damp like they’d been for a morning run. Urgh, if we even had to run to the bathroom it would probably make any of the rest of us throw up this morning.
‘Kim, I have to go.’
‘What, no wait, what are you going to do about him?’
‘Love you, call you later, bye.’
‘Liv—’
‘Hi,’ I greeted the men as they got to the top of the stairs. Carl, a broken man, simply waved at me, pink-faced, and collapsed through the door.
‘Hey, you,’ said Jon, a huge grin on his face. His arms glistened with sweat and his damp T-shirt clung to his torso and showed every outline. I struggled to keep my focus on his face.
‘Hi back. You went jogging? In the snow?’
‘Yep, round Central Park. It was beautiful; so many dogs, and the snow is thick, and still falling. It’s a brand new day,’ he said with meaning.
‘But … you could barely stand up when we walked through there the other day, because of all the ice. How did you run through it?’
‘Carl and I had to hold hands from time to time,’ he said, and we walked back into the apartment. ‘We are so BFFs now.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘A coffee would be great.’ Jon pulled off his T-shirt, revealing a surprisingly toned chest. ‘I’m just going to jump in the shower.’
OK, he was definitely being provocative, and though I hated myself for it, as I poured him a cup of the hazelnut roast I was picturing him there in the shower, the water dripping from his hair, his body warming in the heat …
I needed a shower of my own. Later. Without Jon.
I left his coffee on the side and disappeared back into the bedroom, where I lay next to Abigail and blamed it all on the alcohol.
An hour or so later I had a plan. A plan in my head, clothes on, a brush through my hair, and my parka at the ready. I walked out of the bedroom door and into the living room. Jon was on the phone. He motioned for me to come forward.
‘Mum, I’m going to put Liv on,’ he said, and handed the phone to me.
‘What? Why?’ I blustered, caught off guard.
‘I’m gagging for a wee, back in a mo,’ he whispered, and shot off, leaving me holding the phone.
‘Hello?’ I said nervously.
‘Oliviaaaaaaaa! It’s so nice to finally talk to you; Jon says you two have been having a lovely time in New York, snowy, he says, can’t be as snowy as here though, do you think you’ll be home for Christmas, my love? Are you on the same flight as Jon? We’re all here, you know, his whole family, luckily we all live fairly close by, say hello, everyone!’
‘Hello!’ came a chorus down the phone.
‘Hello,’ I replied, confused about which part of all that I should be answering. ‘Jon’s just popped for a wee.’
‘Ooo, that naughty little bugger, I’ve told him before to spend a penny before he phones us, he always has to cut our talks short because he needs to urinate, I tell you one thing though, Liv, he’s just like his dad in that respect, did you know that … ’
Jon’s mum kept chattering and I smiled, realising he probably used the needing-to-wee excuse as an excuse. Finally he returned, said goodbye to them all, and I had him to myself.
‘I have a plan for today, if you want to hang out together,’ I said. Confidently.
‘You have a plan? Aren’t I supposed to be showing you a New York Christmas?’
‘You’ve done so much already, and this isn’t anything amazing, like the things you’ve shown me, but I think we should do it.’
‘Then I’m in.’
‘OK. Get your coat.’ You’ve pulled.
We emerged from the 34th Street subway station into a New York blizzard. Snow covered the ground and whipped around us, stinging our cheeks and making us blink at a million miles a minute.
I took Jon’s hand and raced with him towards the illuminated word that graced the front of the building in giant, three-storey letters: Believe. We were at Macy’s.
We pushed through the revolving door and the department store was every bit as special as Miracle on 34th Street had led me to believe it would be. Stretched in front of us were counter after counter of handbags under spotlights, jewellery displayed behind sparkling glass, and cosmetics of every colour under the sun. Garlands of plush green and white fairy lights covered the ceilings, fans blew warm air out, giant baubles containing intricate miniature scenes of Santa and reindeers hung from the roof and ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year’ rang out loudly from the speakers, accompanied by the cha-ching of cash registers. If John Lewis had a baby with Buddy the Elf, Macy’s would be the result.
‘Have you seen Miracle on 34th Street?’ I asked Jon.
‘Of course.’
‘This is the store! The real store that it’s based on! On Thirty-Fourth Street!’
‘Does that mean the real Santa is here?’
‘Maybe.’ I looked around me and then back up at Jon. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do here; it just seemed like a place you should come. Do you need to do any Christmas shopping?’
Jon laughed, and shook his wet hair onto me. ‘Let’s just have a wander around.’ He took my hand, and I didn’t resist.
There were people everywhere: shoppers, tourists, those just sheltering from the snow outside. We walked around the store and everywhere you looked the word Believe was dangling from the ceiling, written across walls and shopping bags, emblazoned above our heads across sparkling garlands.
Christmas. Did I believe yet? I was beginning to …
We found ourselves in the Christmas department, where rows upon rows of multicoloured baubles and decorations and candle-holders and fairy lights twinkled under the spotlights of the store. I picked up a little tree ornament in the shape of the Empire State Building, with that word again – Believe – written across it. I needed that. I wanted to always be reminded of New York at this time of year when I needed to believe in Christmas, in love, in myself.
‘You look like you’re having your own miracle here on Thirty-Fourth Street,’ Jon commented, coming to stand beside me.
‘Maybe not a miracle, but I do feel like I’m changing. Not too much, but I feel a bit more open than I was before. Does that make sense?’
‘Open to what?’
I looked up at him. ‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure yet. I’m nervous.’
At that point, I shit you not, Santa Claus walked past. Granted, he was probably the store Santa going for a quick loo break, but according to the movie the Macy’s Santa is the real Santa.
‘Look up, kids,’ he said to us, with a
wink and a pat of his belly.
Jon and I broke our gaze with each other and looked up. Mistletoe. There were small bunches of it hanging from candy-cane hooks from the ceiling in various places around the Christmas department, so it wasn’t entirely a miracle, but it was there, right above us.
‘Mistletoe,’ said Jon, looking back at me, a look of both amusement and a touch of nerves on his face. He grew serious and his eyes softened, and for a moment the music seemed to die down, the other shoppers faded away, and it was just him and me, under some mistletoe on 34th Street. I clutched my ornament; Believe.
I stepped the tiniest of steps closer to him, never having felt this nervous about being near to Jon before. He rested his hands on my hips, pulling me in just a tiny bit more. I put my own hands on his arms and there was no turning back. Our faces drew close and moments before our lips touched he hesitated, smiled, a new smile I hadn’t seen before – soft and personal – and then he kissed me.
It was the lightest of kisses and lasted no more than a couple of seconds, but it felt more real than anything I’d had with Elijah. In that moment it was just how I’d imagined it: I felt his hair on my forehead, his warm nose against my still cold nose, his lips – Jon’s lips on mine – which were firm but sweet.
I think I could believe again now.
We pulled apart, both of us blushing a little, both of us ignoring the magnitude of what had just happened given that we were in such a public place.
‘Um, so, I’m just going to buy this,’ I croaked. ‘Do you want anything?’
‘I’m good,’ he smiled.
We paid, held hands again, and made our way back through the crowds slowly, and out again onto the street which was fast becoming a white-out in the snow.
‘Shall we walk a little way, before we get on the subway?’ I suggested. ‘I could do with a little air.’
‘Sure.’
We began crunching our way up Avenue of the Americas, watching our steps carefully, the snow coming up over our shoes. ‘So this is what a real, traditional Christmas looks like,’ I said.
‘How does it compare to your winter sun holidays? Or hanging out in your flat, for that matter?’
‘At the moment, it’s pretty good.’ I smiled. ‘Very cold though.’
Mistletoe on 34th Street Page 21