by Jenny Colgan
‘Not in the sexual sense I hope,’ said Arthur.
‘Nope!’ said Ellie stalwartly. ‘Come on! I am putting on my ra-ra skirt and we are HITTING THIS TOWN.’
New York crackled with icicles and excitement. Ellie linked one arm through Julia’s and one through Arthur’s and they shivered their way north along Lexington Avenue. The streets were very busy, and every so often they would see a feather head-dress or a man in stilts over the top of the crowd, which would make Arthur hop with excitement and Julia exclaim. Ellie held onto both of them tightly and pretended the wind was making her face as sad as it was.
‘Quick, this way,’ said Julia, pulling out the map. They craned over it to try and work out where they were. ‘We cross Sixth and turn into 48th Street.’ Arthur poked his head up.
‘Over here!’ he said. ‘Oops. Walk or Don’t walk; there doesn’t seem to be a flashing man option. Shame.’
‘It is freezing,’ said Julia.
They reached the cross street and turned the corner, then Ellie really did freeze with her mouth hanging open.
The street was entirely full up. Yellow cabs were stopped in the middle of the road. Somewhere, someone had set up a gigantic stereo system that was pumping out pop music, and the whole street was dancing – transvestites of all shapes and sizes together with quite a lot of ordinary-looking kids.
‘Oh my God,’ said Ellie, extending her finger slowly. Set in the stone behind the dancers was a fine old Manhattan building proudly proclaiming ‘High School For Professional Performing Arts’.
Two people jumped on top of one of the yellow taxis and started frugging furiously. The cab driver only laughed and shouted at someone to turn the music up.
Arthur and Julia stared at the scene, smiling broadly at the silliness of it.
Ellie wasn’t smiling.
‘It’s a sign,’ said Ellie suddenly. ‘It’s a SIGN!’
And she took off at a run and disappeared into the crowd.
‘HEY!’ shouted Julia and Arthur. They took off after her, but before they’d gone two yards, Julia was nearly felled by a huge hug from a seven-foot black Marilyn Monroe.
‘HON!’ said Holly Wood. ‘I KNEW you’d come. How did you manage to change your messy friend into something so cute?’ She shot Arthur a look.
Julia scanned the crowds, but Ellie had gone.
‘Oh, hi Holly Wood,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Weird Science. Anyway. You look fantastic.’
‘Hand sewn,’ said Holly, shaking some decidedly anxious-looking sequins. ‘So, come dance.’
‘We’ve got to look for our friend.’
‘Oh,’ said Arthur, hips already shaking of their own accord. ‘She’ll turn up again when she’s hungry.’ And he shimmied into the throng, dragging Julia with him.
Ninety-nine red balloons went by.
Once past the crowds, Ellie slowed down, panting. No-one was behind her. But she knew now. She had to go looking. She was here. She had to. Otherwise, she’d never know.
She was in a slightly quieter seedier street now, and looked around nervously, wondering where to start. It began to snow. She set her head against the wind and went on.
Okay. Where would actors hang out? Where would he be likely to go? Second-hand bookshops and old black and white movie theatres, that seemed like his style. She kept heading south, away from the parade and the tourist sites, and pushed along the endless blocks down into midtown and from then, freezing, on to SoHo, glancing at every face and in every shop window.
Andrew II stared at the piece of paper with the address Hatsie had given him, and up at the elegant brownstone. Well, depending on their powers of deduction – which, frankly, he didn’t rate that highly – they were going to hopefully make it here sooner or later. Hanging around seemed like a dumb idea, but then every time he remembered Ellie, and the awful news hanging over her, he couldn’t bear the thought of going anywhere else.
‘Hmm,’ said Loxy, looking around. ‘I think we need some strategy here.’
‘Excuse me,’ Colin was asking a bag lady on a bench. ‘Have you seen my friends Arthur and Ellie and Julia?’
The bag lady grunted at him and put out her hand. Loxy pulled him away before he put more than five dollars in it.
‘Okay,’ said Colin. ‘We’re in the right bit. Why don’t we just shout?’
‘What?’
‘Andrew!’ shouted Colin. ‘Andrew!’
‘Maybe he’ll be passing on his way to the shops,’ Colin whispered to Loxy. ‘And he’ll hear us and come over.’
‘Oh,’ said Loxy. He thought it over.
‘Andrew!’ he joined in.
‘Calling all units,’ said the cop on the corner, quietly into his radio.
Four hours later, Ellie was still on the street. All the faces had started to look the same to her. As on the London Underground, the eyes flicked away sharply, apart from those of some of the more dodgy-looking men, which made her feel even more uncomfortable. She wandered in and out of antique shops, of cinemas, of chichi delis. ‘This isn’t even looking for a needle in a haystack,’ she began to think. ‘This is looking for a needle in Wales. A really small needle.’ For the eight billionth time she wondered what Arthur and Julia were up to.
She tripped over a tiny dog.
‘Hey!’ yelled a voice. ‘Get the fuck oudda it!’
‘Sorry!’ She stumbled on, laddering her tights and tripping down into a subway station. The millions of hard-faced commuters and travellers down there in the semi-darkness seemed to loom in front of her and she became short of breath, realizing the impossibility of picking out one person from the multitude.
Up top again it was more freezing than ever. She pushed against the wind again and went on, but now she was entirely without direction, plodding forward up the endless, endless streets. The thought ‘this is stupid, this is stupid, this is all stupid,’ swirled round and round her head. Tears pricking her eyelids were whisked away by the breeze. Although it was only early afternoon it already felt dark, with the heavy snow-filled clouds touching the tops of the skyscrapers. Her feet were agony.
Finally, feeling miserable and defeated, and soaked through from the tears on her face to her sodden toes, she fell into the first coffee shop she came to.
‘Well, hello y’all,’ said a familiar voice. ‘What happened to your friend? She ran away, di’n’t she? Can’t say I’m surprised.’
Ellie staggered back and clasped onto the back of a chair.
‘Oh. My. God!’
‘Ehm, yeah well, God or whatever,’ said the waitress from LA. ‘I mean, do you want a priest or do you want some pancakes?’
‘Pancakes!’ said Ellie, recovering from her shock and discovering a broad grin plastered across her face.
‘Okay then.’ The waitress filled up her coffee cup without being asked.
‘So what brought you here then?’ said Ellie, cupping the mug with both hands and inhaling the steam. ‘Oh, that smells good.’
‘Well, you know … I got a big part in a movie. I’m playing a waitress. I’m not actually working, I’m method acting.’
‘Seriously!’
‘Well, durr. No! Some stupid guy.’ She shrugged. ‘With a big mouth and small pants. A three-day wonder, as it turned out.’
‘Yeah?’
‘So I’m stuck here with lousy weather and this crazy East Coast inability to distinguish between “apartment rental” and “extortion”.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Still, there’s Off-Broadway … hey, what’s the matter? You haven’t cheeked me once since you got in here!’
Ellie shrugged.
‘Did you find that fella you came looking for – who was it again? Oh, wasn’t it Rob Lowe? Did you boff him?’
‘No,’ shrugged Ellie. ‘It was Andrew McCarthy.
And,’ she took a deep breath, ‘I am genuinely not looking for him any more.’
‘Andrew McCarthy! Of course!’ the waitress sat down opposite her. ‘Of course. W
hy the hell didn’t I put two and two together? Oh, apart from the fact that I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Andrew McCarthy. Little sweet-faced fella, right?’
‘Yeah?’ said Ellie.
‘Yeah, I think he lives round here … comes in for his coffee most days.’
Ellie attempted to stop choking on her own tongue.
‘You … you’re kidding, aren’t you?’
‘Still looking for him, huh?’
‘Yuh … yuh huh.’
‘Well, there you go. Hang around here long enough and you might get lucky.’
‘Can I … can I use your phone …’ burbled Ellie.
‘Sure.’
Ellie left a completely garbled message back at the hotel hollering for the others to join her, then sat back and ordered enough pancakes for a long day. Which, if you’re Ellie, is an awful lot of pancakes.
‘Excuse me, Sir?’
Loxy turned round, embarrassed. He became less embarrassed when he realized he was standing in front of a cop. A bit less embarrassed and a bit more utterly terrified.
‘Uhm, yes?’
‘Can I ask why you’re shouting out “Andrew” now?’
‘Umm.’
Loxy pondered how to explain this to a cop. He was rather more used to policemen than the others, not only through his work, but also because he drove quite a nice car and was used to getting pulled over to have it searched for anything else he wasn’t supposed to be able to afford. And he was never cheeky and he never lied, having realized long ago that these things just made the whole process take a lot longer.
‘We’re looking for the actor Andrew McCarthy, Sir.’
The cop looked him up and down and slowly pulled his handcuffs off his belt.
‘Sir, I’m arresting you …’
‘What!?’ said Loxy, genuinely stunned.
‘… for Stalking in the Fourth Degree. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ said Loxy, holding out his hands nevertheless.
‘Is that minor with you?’
The cop was indicating Colin, who was watching the proceedings with wonder, rather than fear.
‘Ehm, yes … and he’s not a minor.’
‘Really? And is he also “looking” for your actor friend, eh buddy?’ The cop shoved him nastily on the arm.
‘Yes.’
‘Shall I run away?’ piped up Colin directly to Loxy.
‘Noo,’ groaned Loxy. ‘Although once we’re out of this, I’d recommend running very quickly away from me.’
After dancing frenziedly for half an hour, Arthur and Julia had escaped, giggling, into the calm and serenity of the Guggenheim Museum.
‘Holly was definitely after you,’ said Julia.
‘Yeah,’ said Arthur, gazing fixedly at the pictures. ‘Just not my type, I guess.’
‘I thought everyone was meant to be your type,’ said Julia teasingly.
Arthur reddened and smiled at the ground. Julia nudged him.
‘Give it up,’ she said.
‘Give what up?’
‘You know … admit to the world that you’re an old pipe and slippers gent at heart.’
‘I am not.’
‘Uh huh.’
They wandered up the spiral walkway. Arthur looked at her.
‘Well, you give it up.’
‘Give what up?’
‘Pretending that you don’t know the answer to your own question.’
Julia stared into the atrium.
‘You know.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Until a couple of days ago … when Ellie crashed the car and kind of came to her senses … well, you know, I hadn’t actually finally given up all hope of meeting Andrew McCarthy. And there was a tiny – the tiniest bit of me thought he might be able to help. I know it sounds stupid. But I feel like I’ve given up all hope of ever really knowing what to do about Loxy.’
‘Uh huh,’ said Arthur, studying a particularly elongated nude.
‘What do you mean by that particular uh huh? And I don’t think you’re meant to touch that bit.’
‘But it’s so long … well, I mean, come on Jules. Fair enough to expect a space cadet like the Hedgehog to want to get her life advice from an actor, but I didn’t think it of you.’
Stung, Julia walked on.
‘Well, it wasn’t advice as such … just …’
‘I mean, how many good, loyal, faithful, interesting, trustworthy guys with nice arses are going to ask you to marry them anyway?’
‘Not many,’ said the attendant. ‘Sir, would you mind not touching that? It makes it all shiny.’
‘Exactly,’ said Arthur. ‘To both things.’
‘I know. I know. I know,’ said Julia. ‘It’s just … he’s such a wimp …’
‘Can you get us a brief?’ Loxy was saying in his best Prisoner’s Advocate voice as they walked through the precinct door.
‘And I’ll need a phone call. And then you can tell us what this damned stupid charge actually is, and then we can explain it and you can send us on our way. Okay?’
‘I love your accent,’ said the cop.
‘… and he’s all over me all the time, like he just can’t leave me alone …’
‘Colin, don’t make me come over there. I’m only telling you once.’
Colin was attempting to imitate the ‘Wanted’ posters on the wall.
‘Right, let’s get this sorted out. Best start with me.’
‘Is that the worst you can think of to say about him?’ said the attendant. ‘What’s his number? I’ll have him. And Sir, I won’t tell you again.’
They passed into a room covered in Pollocks that seemed to jump crazily from one canvas to another.
Julia stood stock still in the middle of the room for thirty seconds.
‘Arthur,’ she said suddenly, turning round, her eyes full of tears. ‘Have I been a complete and utter wombat?’
Arthur came up to her gently and put his arm around her.
‘Of course you have,’ he said, squeezing her tight.
‘But … what if it’s too late?’
‘I think if he’s been crazy about you for two years, a few weeks isn’t going to make a difference.’
‘Oh my God – what if I’d got off with that stupid surfer boy?’
‘Well, don’t worry about it, because you didn’t. Anyway, you just couldn’t bear the thought of anyone not fancying you for a change.’
‘Christ, yeah.’ She looked embarrassed. ‘Well, they normally do.’
‘I know. But, one day you just have to say, “let ’em. I’ve got mine”.’
‘Oh Arthur.’ She wiped her nose. ‘Oh God, sorry … was that your sleeve?’
‘Again, don’t worry about it,’ said Arthur, mentally allowing himself three free angel points.
‘I have to go and phone him right away.’ She pulled away agitatedly, and started rummaging in her pockets for change. ‘I can get him on the mobile, even if he’s at the prison. I just phone the British number and …’
‘Okay.’
She stopped faffing suddenly and looked up.
‘Oh my God – you know what this means? I’m getting MARRIED!’
‘I know!’
‘I’M GETTING MARRIED!’
She jumped up and down and Arthur spun her around in a hug.
‘Don’t they make the loveliest couple,’ said one of the other attendants.
‘Oh Jesus,’ said Siobhan. ‘Lox, why did you phone me?’
‘Well, I don’t know, do I? You’re the only person who knows where I am. And why I’m here. Because I, personally, have pretty much forgotten why I’m here.’
‘You should have phoned the consul.’
‘What for? You’re acting like I’ve got four pounds of heroin up my jacksie. Which I haven’t –’ he glanced crossly at the duty sergeant, who was trying to pretend not to eavesdrop.
‘
But Lox, they haven’t phoned – I don’t know where they are. I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to do … ugh …’
‘Hang on a second – are you having sex?’
‘Loxy, I …’
‘I’m going to prison and you’re having sex???’
‘I don’t think I could help you any more if I wasn’t …’
But he had already hung up.
‘Come on then Sir.’
Loxy wearily started taking off his coat and indicated to Colin that he should do the same. Suddenly, his mobile rang.
The desk sergeant reached inside the coat, picked it out and pressed the ‘on’ switch.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ could be heard distinctly around the precinct lobby.
‘I think,’ he said, passing it back to Loxy, ‘it’s your friend that’s having sex again.’
‘We’re all clear for now,’ the officer in SoHo heard on his radio. ‘Keep an eye on him, but I don’t think the girls will prove so much of a problem. I think he’s got a message to them anyway; there’s certainly a lot of screaming going on.’
Andrew II noticed all the police and wondered what the hell was going on. This was getting stranger and stranger. He hoped the girls remembered that American policemen had guns.
‘You’re in New York!!!’ Julia was so over the moon she didn’t even stop to question whether it might not be to see her.
‘I’ve got to see you.’
‘Ah,’ said Loxy. ‘That might be a problem. You see, we’ve been arrested.’
‘Oh my God.’
Arthur held Julia up while she went weak at the knees.
‘Who’s “we”?’ he whispered, urgently.