by Jenny Colgan
She could hardly think any more. She found herself back on Fifth Avenue, pushing blindly through the crush, the sheer weight of people slightly freaking her out when she was disorientated and just needed somewhere to have a really good cry, in private. There didn’t seem to be a lot of privacy in this city.
Her phone rang. She fumbled for it in her pocket, her heart thudding. Was this it? What was she going to say? Sorry, Austin, this is it for us? I’m leaving you because you’re about to leave me anyway and I don’t want to go through four months of torture whilst you faff around between London and New York unable to make up your mind? Or, Please please please come back to London with me and give up all hopes of an exciting future to be stuck behind a desk in Stoke Newington for the rest of your life?
She was tempted not to answer – nobody’s name would come up on her screen because she was abroad – because she didn’t know what to say, and a snot-and tear-filled gabbling wouldn’t really help anyone. But to not answer would be worse, passive-aggressive and horrible and scary, and if Austin was putting things off, it wouldn’t help if she did too.
‘Hello?’ she whispered into the phone, her hand where she’d taken off her glove to press the green button already feeling cold and stiff. Automatically she kept walking north to where it seemed quieter; up through Columbus Circle and skirting the bottom of Central Park.
‘Oh thank GOD,’ said Pearl. ‘There you are. Issy, I may have been … ahem … slightly exaggerating before. About how things are.’
‘What?’ Issy snuffled, wrenched back to reality.
‘Um,’ said Pearl.
Pearl was standing in the basement kitchen of the shop. It looked like a bomb had hit it. Strawberry cake mix that Issy had carefully made up in advance was dripping off the walls. Receipts and pieces of paper were piling up on surfaces all over the place. It was the middle of the night and Pearl hadn’t slept properly in two days.
‘I think,’ she said, finally, ‘I think I’ve broken the mixer.’
‘Frick,’ said Issy. The industrial mixer was a central part of the operation. ‘But it’s Saturday tomorrow! It’s a huge Christmas shopping day. The entire world is going to be out.’
‘I know,’ said Pearl. ‘And some cake mix landed on the calculator and I’m having, um, some trouble cashing up. And possibly there’s a health inspection due.’
Issy made up her mind. ‘Listen,’ she said, with a heavy heart. ‘It’s all right. I’ve got this totally posh plane ticket.’
She paused and took a deep breath.
‘I’ll fly straight back. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Chapter Fourteen
It didn’t take Issy long to pack. Apart from Caroline’s ridiculous coat, she’d worn almost none of the unsuitable clothes she’d packed so quickly, with such excitement. Flicking pointlessly through the television channels, she saw Sleepless in Seattle playing on TCM and nearly burst into tears.
Austin arrived back at the hotel shortly after her, a grumpy Darny in his wake.
‘This really isn’t good for me,’ Darny was saying. ‘Having to deal with conflict in an already difficult childhood.’
‘Shut up, Darny,’ Austin said. His face fell when he saw Issy with her suitcase out.
‘It’s not because of you,’ she said. ‘Honestly. Pearl can’t cope without me. Things have gone really wrong.’ She looked at him straight on. ‘Sorry. I can’t leave the café.’
Austin looked straight back at her. His heart was pounding in his chest. Darny was sitting in the corner, his face drawn and tense. Austin didn’t want to mention the letter in his pocket. It wouldn’t make anything better. It would make everything worse; Issy might think he was blaming her, because it had happened in his absence. He never wanted her to think that she had done anything wrong; with Darny, with him. Not anything. He felt a terrible lurch. There was so much he wanted to say, but would any of it change that essential truth?
‘I know,’ he said, quietly.
There was a long silence after that.
Issy felt as if she’d been punched in the face. He was going to let her go, just like that. Without even vaguely trying to persuade her to stay. For some stupid job. For his career. Everything she had ever thought about her big, handsome, gentle Austin … well, she hadn’t imagined that this would happen. Not like this.
She put out her hand to steady herself. Austin saw her and wanted to burst into tears. She looked so vulnerable. But what could he do? If it wasn’t now, it would be later. Should he just prolong the agony? He felt as if he were ripping apart inside; and yet here they were, words still coming out of their mouths, almost like normal human beings.
‘I’m just going to phone the airline,’ Issy said, feeling as if they were someone else’s words, someone else’s script. Surely she should be saying, let’s take a ferry ride to see the Statue of Liberty; or go for a romantic evening in a cocktail bar where a pianist would be tinkling ‘It Had To Be You’ in the corner; or go and watch the adverts and the sailors down in Times Square and look at the great bows and Christmas lights that draped every corner of the city.
‘I’ll get someone to do that,’ Austin was saying, like a robot.
‘Someone at your office? In New York?’ said Issy, then wished she hadn’t. Everything was bad enough without being spiteful on top of it. ‘Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean that.’
‘No,’ said Austin. ‘It’s OK. I’m sorry. I mean …’
He looked so thoroughly miserable, all Issy wanted to do was take him in her arms and hold him till he felt better. But what good would that do? she thought. He seemed to have made up his mind. Prolong everything? Pretend to carry on a financially ruinous and technically impossible career between two totally different continents?
‘Ssh,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She indicated Darny. ‘We can talk about it back in the UK.’
‘Mm,’ said Austin. He couldn’t figure out where exactly this had all gone so terribly wrong. Issy hadn’t even taken a second to look around or tried to see the positive side of New York. She’d been against the entire thing right from the start, almost as if she’d decided that it was going to be a disaster, and therefore it had turned into one. It made him incredibly cross.
They stood a little while longer with neither of them saying anything.
‘Well, this is boring,’ said Darny. ‘I can feel my ADHD kicking in.’
‘I’ll make the call,’ said Austin.
‘OK,’ said Issy.
After a tense ten minutes, it was arranged that Issy could go back on a flight leaving very early the next morning. Just one more night to go.
‘Do you want to go out?’ said Austin.
‘I think I’m finally going to have that nice bath,’ said Issy, trying to paste a smile on her face and stop her voice from wobbling, though she didn’t quite succeed. ‘Then an early night; I’m going to be up to my eyeballs when I get back to the café.’
‘Yeah,’ said Austin. ‘OK.’
But as they lay together in the huge, comfortable soft white bed, listening to the distant honks and whoops of the traffic, there was not the faintest possibility of sleep. Instead Issy cried; great silent tears, dripping down into her pillow. She tried not to make a sound or disturb Austin, until he turned over and realised her pillow was wet.
‘Oh my darling,’ he said, holding her tight and stroking her hair. ‘My love. We’ll work it out.’
‘How?’ said Issy, sobbing. ‘How?’
But Austin didn’t have an answer to that. Either way, it seemed, would leave one of them very unhappy. Which in the long run would leave them both unhappy; that much he understood. He sighed again. Why did life have to throw up speed bumps when they seemed to be running happily along? And this, he thought, stroking Issy’s soft dark hair, this was a big one. Their tears mingled together on the expensive pillowcases.
Pearl had finally thrown up her hands and admitted defeat. She had phoned Caroline and asked her to come in early.
Caroline had turned up and tutted at the state of the place. Then she had made a call of her own.
‘Perdita! Chop chop!’ she had shouted at the pleasant-faced middle-aged woman who’d arrived, slightly frightened-looking, three quarters of an hour later. Perdita had instantly started scrubbing everything down from top to bottom, as Caroline briskly went through the figures.
‘One thing divorce does is make it very easy to read a balance sheet, see where all the money’s gone,’ she growled.
Pearl was still gazing at Perdita. ‘She’s your cleaner? How can you have a cleaner and still come to work in a café?’
‘Because Richard is an evil cunning bastard,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ve told you this before.’
Pearl eyed her shrewdly. ‘But you must be getting close to a settlement now,’ she observed. ‘It’s been dragging on for years.’
‘Pearl, you’re a terrific salesperson and a wonderful organiser in the café, but your paperwork is a dog’s dinner and you bake like a wookie,’ said Caroline tightly, ignoring her. ‘Division of labour should have been sorted out properly before Issy flounced off.’
‘She didn’t exactly flounce off,’ said Pearl. ‘Caroline, I have a theory about you; do you want to hear it?’
‘If it’s about my astonishing self-control when it comes to food, I’ll just tell you again, nothing tastes as good as skinny fee—’
‘Nope,’ said Pearl. ‘That’s bullshit. No, here is my theory: I think you work here because you like it.’
‘Like it? Working? In a job a robot will probably be doing in two years’ time? In a job that persistently refuses to recognise my creative interior design and organisational skills and insists on putting me in front of the general bloody public after I’ve already been a major player in the corporate world? Yeah, right. Perdita, you’ve missed a bit. And sort out the skirting while you’re down there.’
‘Yeah,’ said Pearl. ‘I reckon you really do like it.’
Caroline glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.
‘Don’t you ever dare tell a bloody soul. PERDITA! Did you bring those bags I asked you? Well, if it takes two runs at it, it takes two runs; just bring them in, would you?’
Perdita soon came in weighed down with two suitcases.
‘What the hell is in there?’ said Pearl.
‘Aha!’ said Caroline.
Maya arrived just afterwards, arm in arm with a girl with very short hair.
‘Hi,’ she said happily to everyone, beaming her lovely smile. ‘This is Rachida. Rachida, this is Pearl and Caroline. They are being very patient with me.’
Pearl raised an eyebrow, feeling guilty because she had not been in the least bit patient.
‘I’ve had her up all night practising,’ said Rachida. ‘Our friends have got a cappuccino machine. She’s got it down to six seconds.’
‘Thank you,’ said Caroline. ‘Do your friends do bookkeeping too?’
‘Shut up,’ said Pearl, looking at Maya and Rachida.
Rachida left, kissing Maya full on the lips as she did so. Maya took off her coat and hung it up behind the door, unconcerned. ‘See you tonight!’ she yelled cheerfully. Then she turned round.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘I reckon I’m ready.’
Pearl smiled a huge wide smile at her, ridiculously cross at how pleased she was.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Go bring up that new tray of mince pies. Surely I got them right sixth time out.’ And Pearl started to slightly relax, leaning behind the counter and turning on the stereo. ‘Deck the Hall with Boughs of Holly’ came thundering out of the sound system, and she found herself joining in on the falalas. She must need sleep, she thought.
Issy cried all the way to the airport in the cab. She cried as she sat in the posh lounge, where she completely wasn’t in the mood to sample any of the luxury treats. She cried all six hours across the Atlantic, pausing only to watch Sleepless in Seattle so at least it seemed like she had an excuse. She cried all the way back on the Heathrow Express and all the way back up the Victoria Line and all the way across town on the number 73.
Then she pulled herself together and walked into the café.
She stopped, and gasped. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t really noticed from the outside; there were a lot of people with their faces pressed up against the glass, but she hadn’t really taken it in. But here, inside, the entire place was transformed.
Snow lined the fireplace, which was thickly wreathed with ivy. Ivy also hung down in garlands from the ceiling, linking up so the café appeared to have trees growing out of it. Every table had a display of silver ferns and holly, and there was a huge wreath on the door, so the entire place felt like an enchanted forest. Most remarkable of all, however, was that some space had been cleared in the windows, taking out their display box. In its place was a snowy landscape, complete with white hills and a little wooden town, lit up with tiny lampposts. Figures were tobogganing down the hills; there was a school with children playing outside, a hotel with ladies in ballgowns descending the steps, and several cosily lit houses, and round it all ran a dinky steam train, with carriages with tiny people inside them. There was a station with a station master waving a flag and blowing a whistle, and vintage cars parked outside, and tucked behind the highest of the hills, against a backdrop painted with stars, was Santa Claus on his sleigh with all his reindeer. It was utterly enchanting.
‘AUNTIE ISSY!’ Louis hurtled out from behind the counter and leapt on Issy as if he hadn’t seen her for months. ‘AH DID MISS YOU!’
Issy let herself enjoy being bowled over and smothered in kisses.
‘I missed you too, my love.’
Louis beamed. ‘WE HAVE A TRAIN! DID YOU SEE OUR TRAIN? IT’S A REAL TRAIN! IT GOES ROUND AND ROUND AND THERE IS SANTA CLAUS BUT HE IS HIDING SO YOU DON’T SEE HIM!’
‘I did see it,’ said Issy. ‘It’s wonderful.’
‘Well, my wretched children don’t appreciate it,’ sniffed Caroline. ‘Why are you back so early? Did you get a stain on my jacket?’
Louis stroked Issy’s hair. ‘Did you bring me a present?’ he whispered.
‘I did,’ whispered Issy, answering the easiest question first. She reached into her hand luggage and brought out a snow dome she’d bought at the Empire State Building. It had all the lovely buildings of New York – the Empire State, the Chrysler, the Plaza – with little taxis on the ground, and when you shook it, a snowstorm commenced. Louis held it in absolute awe, shaking it again and again in amazement.
‘I like my pwesent, Issy,’ he said, quietly.
Pearl came round from behind the counter, looking at Issy carefully. She wasn’t her normal ebullient self at all. Pearl thought it could just be jet lag. But no, it was more than that. It was as if a light had gone out somewhere behind Issy’s eyes. Her face was drawn and pinched-looking, with none of its usual rosy glow.
‘That’s a beautiful present, Iss,’ she said, using the gift as an excuse to give Issy a big hug.
Issy nearly lost it again, but felt she was pretty much all cried out. She turned to Caroline.
‘Did you do this?’
Caroline nodded. ‘Well. My interior decorator did. I think it’s dusty and clutters the house up, so I brought it here. Achilles did look a bit sad at our minimalist look, but heyho. We should absolutely win that bloody Super Secret London prize for best shop.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Issy. ‘Thank you.’
She smiled at Maya, who was expertly balancing four coffee mugs on one arm whilst pouring off perfectly frothed milk with the other hand.
‘Well, it didn’t take you long to get the hang of things.’
‘It did, actually,’ said Maya. ‘I’ve been up practising five hours a night.’
Pearl nodded to confirm the truth of this. Issy looked around. Everywhere were happy-looking people eating away. Many of her regulars waved. She wanted to cry again: it felt good to be home.
‘I thought you were all having a
total disaster,’ she said.
‘A temporary blip,’ said Pearl. ‘We’re totally over it now.’
‘I see that,’ said Issy. ‘Could I possibly get a cup of coffee?’
Austin cried all the way into the office, but hid it. Darny wasn’t paying attention anyway. He washed his face in the men’s room, installed Darny with his DS next to his secretary, marched into Carmen’s office before he even had a chance to think, and signed the papers. Now he belonged to Kingall Lowestein.
‘Hey!’ said Merv, swinging by to shake his hand and have his photograph taken with Austin for the bank’s newsletter. ‘You won’t regret it.’
Austin already did. ‘Can your PA send over those school forms?’ he said.
‘Sure thing,’ said Merv.
Issy started the batches for the next day’s cakes so they could get a bit ahead of themselves. Maya was looking at her with wide frightened eyes, imagining her instant dismissal, but Issy smiled and said they were so busy with the window display bringing shoppers in that would she like to stay for a while, and Maya grinned widely and gleefully acquiesced. Issy also thought privately that she wasn’t sure she herself was up to being jolly in the shop all the time and might take some more time off. On the other hand, what else did she have?
‘Can I come over?’
‘Yes,’ said Helena, with the fervour of someone who wasn’t getting enough adult conversation. ‘Whenever you like. Stay as long as you like. Bring wine. Chadani Imelda, stop putting that up your bottom.’
‘Um,’ said Issy. ‘Um. Can I stay the night?’
There was a pause.
‘Oh,’ said Helena.
‘Oh,’ said Issy.
‘Oh darling,’ said Helena.
‘Please don’t start me off,’ said Issy. ‘At least wait till I get there.’