Tell Me You Do

by Fiona Harper

  But as soon as they’d finished eating, Jason had whisked her out of the diner and into a cab and they’d headed downtown. First stop wasn’t any of the flashy homes of the investments banks or even Ground Zero but the sidewalk outside an old-fashioned jewellers. Jason grinned as he took in the carved wood and glass Victorian window.

  ‘When I was small my grandfather used to bring me here.’ He glanced across at her. ‘He was the sort of man who always carried a pocket watch, and every so often his watch—which had belonged to his grandfather—would need some TLC, and he’d bring it here. I always used to think it was the coolest place.’

  Kelly raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Because of this… .’ he said, and pointed to her feet.

  Kelly jumped back. She hadn’t realised it but she’d been standing on a proper clock, with a white face and ornate black hands, sunken into the sidewalk and protected by a layer of thick, scuffed glass.

  ‘That is cool!’ She shook her head, marvelling at the idea.

  Jason shrugged. ‘That’s New York City for you … always full of surprises.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Come on, I’ve got more of its hidden treasures to show you.’

  And, before she knew it, they were in another cab, heading towards the Lower East Side. When they got out, she frowned. The neighbourhood wasn’t the smartest. Jason led her into a thin community park that must have run blocks and blocks. What kind of treasure could be found here? She really couldn’t guess.

  But Kelly heard it before she saw it. Birdsong.

  And not just the guttural cooing of city pigeons but trills and whistles and arching notes that made her chest squeeze. This tiny fenced-off section of the park was full of ornate bamboo cages, each housing painted-china feeding dishes and a colourful songbird. Larger cages sat on the ground, some with their white-cotton covers still draped over them; some hung from hooks strung on wire between metal posts. About twenty Chinese men, mostly of retirement age, milled around, not really talking to each other but tending to their pets and enjoying the community of like-minded enthusiasts.

  The birds were of all different sizes and colours. Some yellow and black, some shades of grey, some earthy green. What should have been a cacophony of different bird calls wove itself into a surprising and ever-changing symphony. It was magical.

  ‘Hua mei. Best bird here,’ the man standing nearby said, pointing towards his cage. ‘Best song. You listen …’

  She peered into a cage hung at eye level, and a little brown bird stared back at her. It would have been the plainest of the bunch if not for a shocking blue-and-white outline to its eyes, trailing back from the corners as if it were wearing heavy eyeliner.

  The little bird cocked its head, opened its mouth and began to sing. The only thing Kelly could think of doing was to close her eyes and listen. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. The song was full of chirps and chirrups and changes in pitch and direction. It sang as if its life depended on it, as if it couldn’t not sing. And the melody almost brought tears to her eyes for that very reason.

  This morning, standing here in Sara Delano Roosevelt Park with Jason, was the first time in a long time that she’d felt that same sense of joy at living and breathing. And if Kelly could sing—which she couldn’t—she’d have been tempted to throw back her head and trill away with the birds.

  ‘I could stay here all day listening to them,’ she said, sighing.

  Jason just grinned back at her. ‘I had a feeling you’d like it here, but we’ve got plenty more places to visit before the day is out.’ And he slid his hand into hers and laced his fingers between her own.

  Kelly looked down at their joined hands and something hiccupped in her chest. This shouldn’t feel so right, should it? This shouldn’t feel meant to be, as if their hands had been crafted to fit together this way. But she didn’t pull her hand from his as they spent almost half an hour wandering round the small sunken garden, listening to each of the birds in turn.

  Eventually they ended up back beside the first cage. Kelly felt she needed to say goodbye to this little bird. The owner hadn’t been lying—it had the prettiest song of all of them, and she told him so.

  ‘All have unique song,’ he told her, ‘but they learn from other bird too.’ Then he leaned in close and whispered, ‘But hua mei don’t sing if unhappy.’

  Kelly smiled softly. ‘Then your little bird must be the happiest here.’

  He beamed back at her and nodded, and Kelly felt a pang in her chest as they walked away. She’d probably never get to see these birds again or talk to the old man. For some reason that made her incredibly sad.

  But she couldn’t be sad for too long. Too many amazing things to see—an almost hidden statue of Lenin, of all people, high on the roof of an otherwise-ordinary apartment block, a wander through Greenwich Village, alive with bustling shops and cafés, drinking a pint-sized latte in a little coffee shop, just like in one of her favourite TV shows.

  They kept heading north until they reached Central Park. Lunch was a hot dog with mustard—squirted on in a decorative fashion because the vendor liked the look of her, Jason said—and eaten sitting on a rock that poked out of the grass. It was perfect. So was half dozing on the grass, her head in his lap, cloud watching. Who knew that an elephant, a steam locomotive and a baby seal could all be found floating above the Manhattan skyline, completely unnoticed?

  He took her up the Empire State Building. Not really a hidden treasure, he said, but still one of his favourite places in the city, even with the crowds on the observation deck elbowing them in the ribs to get a better view or sticking their cameras through the strong wire mesh and trying not to drop them.

  They rode on the subway. Not because it was essential to get to their next destination. Just because.

  And they finished the afternoon off at the Children’s Centre in the public library, staring at the teddy bear inside a glass case that had been the inspiration for Winnie-the-Pooh, along with his battered and only-just-surviving friends. Because her boys might like to hear about it, Jason had said, but he knew the way to the little half-glazed room that housed the display without asking for directions and he smiled at the contents of the case with affection.

  ‘These were favourites of yours, weren’t they?’ she asked him.

  Jason nodded. ‘One of the few things my father used to do with Brad and me was take us to the library. We’d always make a beeline for this case before we ran off to choose our books.’ He shook his head, still staring hard at the tiny moth-eaten Piglet, who was smiling cheerfully back at him. ‘I haven’t been here for years… .’

  That was when Kelly realised what a lot of the destinations on Jason’s eclectic list had been about—he hadn’t just been showing her interesting and unspoilt areas of his hometown, he’d been showing her his New York. The places that held memories for him, even places that held long-denied connections with his family.

  That brought a lump to her throat. And an odd ray of hope to her heart.

  Maybe. Maybe they could do this. Maybe it wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen.

  And she so wanted to believe that was true. She didn’t want this time in New York to be just a fairy tale. And she didn’t want it to end with the cold, grey reality of a London morning as they landed back at Heathrow. Because she wanted to believe there’d been enough of those grey clouds in her past to guarantee she wouldn’t meet them again in her future.

  She’d paid enough, hadn’t she? Surely she could expect some happiness in return.

  Jason would never admit to having a case of nerves, but that was what hit him at twenty-five past ten the following morning, just as he and Kelly approached McGrath’s chosen meeting spot—a busy diner just off 47th and Broadway.

  Just before they walked in the door, Kelly tugged on his hand and pulled him to a stop. ‘You look like you’re about to poop yourself.’

  Jason blinked. There was nothing like the cold, hard truth for making a man feel better.
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br />   ‘But that’s what we want,’ she added, straightening his tie then kissing the tip of his nose. ‘That means it’s getting to you. And if it’s getting to you, you’re good to go.’

  He frowned. He was sure there was some kind of backhanded encouragement in there somewhere, but in his current state of agitation he wasn’t sure how to dig it out.

  ‘And I’ll be there as your wingman.’ She smiled brightly at him.

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ he muttered as he turned and headed inside.

  McGrath and his driver-slash-security guy were sitting in a booth at the back. A waitress led them over to his table. Kelly instantly beamed at the man and accepted his kiss on the cheek with a smile, but Jason felt his bones crunch when McGrath turned his attention to him and shook his hand. You’re not off the hook yet, the handshake said. One false move and you’re toast.

  Jason’s first reaction was to grin and pretend nothing had happened, but he stopped himself. Instead, he squeezed back, not to the bone-fracturing degree of his prospective business associate, but enough to say, Game on. I’m ready. To his surprise McGrath nodded and smiled when Jason pulled his hand away and flexed it subtly.

  The waitress returned, handed them menus and poured coffee. For some reason Jason was ravenous.

  ‘We’ll talk shoes once we’ve ordered,’ McGrath said.

  Jason nodded. ‘Fine by me.’

  McGrath turned his attention to Kelly. ‘This your first time in New York?’

  She nodded enthusiastically. Jason knew that, in books and songs, writers described people as ‘lighting up’, but he’d never really believed it was anything more than a pretty turn of phrase. But somehow, when Kelly started telling McGrath about the day they’d had yesterday, she did it. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  When the waitress came back to take their orders, she fell quiet and scoured the menu. McGrath seemed to pay unusual attention to what Jason ordered—a ton of meat with a couple of fried eggs thrown in for good measure.

  When the waitress had disappeared again, he looked at Jason. ‘Good choice,’ he said. ‘You can tell a lot about a man by the way he has his eggs. If you’d have ordered one of those egg-white omelettes, you’d have been outta here.’

  He must have made a face at the idea of omelettes with no yolks because McGrath almost, almost, cracked a smile.

  ‘You’ve got your ten minutes,’ he said. ‘Go.’

  So Jason went. He told McGrath about the flash of an idea he’d come up with when he’d been investigating the market, how he’d pulled together a team of designers to see if it could be done and how they’d spent the last couple of years making it work. No frills. No fuss. No BS.

  He got his ten minutes. And more.

  As he finished speaking, Kelly leaned across a little and squeezed his knee. McGrath was less demonstrative, but he wore a smile behind his stony expression.

  ‘I like the idea,’ he said. ‘I like being in on something from the ground floor. And I like the idea that I’d be first to wear them.’ He offered his hand to Jason. ‘These Mercuries better be as good as you say they are, Mr Knight, because I’m looking forward to trying a pair on and giving them a road test. If I still like them after that, you’ve got yourself a deal.’

  Jason managed not to pick McGrath up off his feet and spin him round. Just.

  He saved it for when he and Kelly were clear of the diner and heading out back towards Broadway. Then he gently let her down again and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did. Because he couldn’t remember kissing being this phenomenal before. Perhaps because with each touch and taste he was giving, not just taking; he was speaking the truth instead of just making his next move.

  He broke away and ignored the raised eyebrows of a few passers-by. ‘I want to see more of you when we’re back in London,’ he blurted out. ‘And not just for a couple of dates—that won’t be enough …’

  Kelly stared back at him. He couldn’t tell if she was terrified or overjoyed at his words. And, seeing as he hadn’t exactly planned on saying them, he felt pretty much the same way.

  He took a breath then dipped his head so it was closer to hers and spoke softly. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I want a relationship. With you.’

  She was still frozen and staring, which wasn’t helping the thudding in his ears. And yet his mouth just kept on moving, saying all sorts of things he was completely unprepared for. ‘I. care about you, Kelly.’

  She lurched forward and kissed him so thoroughly he almost forgot what he’d just said, then she pulled away, shaking her head and laughing. ‘Then heaven help us both because the same kind of crazy is creeping up on me too.’

  They kissed again, this time softer, slower. The sounds of the city around them melted away.

  ‘I can’t believe this is real,’ she whispered when they pulled apart. ‘I didn’t think …’

  ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘But I want to try.’

  She bit her lip and nodded. ‘I do too, Jason, but I’m scared. Really scared.’

  The look of pain on her face, even as she smiled sweetly at him, was almost enough to rip him in two. He pulled her close and held her tight. ‘I know,’ he mumbled into her hair. ‘Just give me a chance. I promise I will do my absolute best to be the man you deserve.’

  She pulled back and looked at him, studied his face as if all the answers she ever wanted to find might be written there, then after a long minute she nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Stuff it. You only live once.’

  ‘Stuff it?’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Nice. I’m feeling very wanted now …

  She punched him on the arm. ‘Shut up and kiss me again,’ she commanded him. ‘And then you can take me somewhere nice for a late lunch before our flight. Somewhere really nice. I think I’m worth it.’

  He punched her back. Gently.

  But she was. She totally was.

  Kelly sang to herself softly as she reached for a bottle and squeezed a good-sized dollop of the hotel’s expensive-smelling shower gel into her palm. Warm water hit the back of her head and cascaded down her body in rivulets. She took her time washing. The grime of this city—wonderful as it was—could not be underestimated, and she wanted to smell and look and feel her best for Jason this afternoon. They only had a few hours left now before they headed back to the airport and she was determined to make the most of them.

  The shower gel smelled heavenly and her skin was feeling softer already. She worked her way up her legs and then higher, but when she reached her upper torso, she stopped. Her hand remained frozen on her left breast and the water continued to drum on her upper back.

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was stare at the wall, notice the exact width of the grout between the marble tiles.

  She closed her eyes and moved her hand over the breast again, slower this time. Firmer. Concentrating on exactly what she could feel under the surface of the skin.

  No. Oh, God, no.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JASON CHECKED HIS watch. Kelly had gone for a shower more than forty-five minutes ago. He strolled over to her door and listened for running water, but everything was silent. He stood there for a few moments more, but he couldn’t even hear her moving around inside.

  He knocked gently. ‘Kelly?’

  Still no sound. He knocked again. ‘Are you okay in there?’

  His pulse began to skip. Slowly he turned the door handle and pushed the door open. He didn’t have to walk more than a couple of feet into the room to find Kelly, still wrapped in a towel, sitting on the end of the bed and staring blankly at the sheer curtain that covered the window.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked softly.

  She didn’t react at all as he moved closer and he began to get scared. He’d never seen her like this before. Where was all the life, the movement? Where was all that glow that had captivated him not more than a couple of hours ago?

  As he neared her she blinked, shook
her head slightly and then looked drowsily at him.

  ‘Kelly, are you sick?’

  She blinked again then frowned as she processed his very simple question. ‘Maybe … I mean, I’m not …’ She paused and cleared her throat. ‘Can we just stay here until it’s time to leave for the airport?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll have lunch brought up.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever… .’ She went back to staring at the window.

  Jason’s first instinct was to get out of the room. But he made himself stop and look at her again. ‘Do you need anything?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Would you rather be left on your own?’ She certainly didn’t seem to be affected by his presence one way or the other, and someone needed to call room service.

  ‘I think so …’

  He’d go then. But not for long. He’d check on her again shortly.

  Knowing Kelly’s passion for experiencing authentic American cuisine, he ordered a couple of burgers and the hotel’s famous salad from the menu. Then he went to pack his suitcase while he waited for the food to arrive. Once he’d tipped the waiter, he knocked on her door again.

  She was dressed this time, in casual clothes for the flight back, and she’d moved from the end of the bed and was curled up, clutching a pillow. Her open—empty—suitcase sat on the floor. He walked over and sat down on the mattress next to her. ‘It’s ready.’

  She looked up at him. ‘I’ll have mine in here.’

  He shrugged and stood up. ‘Okay … I’ll wheel the trolley in. We can picnic.’

  She sat up suddenly. ‘No.’

  Jason froze.

  She seemed to realise she’d spoken rather sharply. ‘I mean … I’d rather be on my own.’