by Helga Jensen
It is high time I texted Dick to check on the boys anyhow. They should be up and about by now and hopefully settling into the different time zone. Fortunately, Dick comes back immediately and says they are all fine, that the boys had pancakes for breakfast and love the food in the hotel. I am relieved to hear that. I know Dick is a good father really; it is that Tanja Tart that I am more worried about. I will speak to them later. They won’t be able to keep it to themselves if there are any issues with her.
Satisfied that the boys are fine, I message Sian and tell her about my escapade last night. She finds it hilarious that I thought a man returning my sweater was a murderer. It is okay for her; she wasn’t in a dodgy hotel in a big city all alone. I will be grateful when Jamie arrives. Hopefully, if his flight is on time, we may even catch up this evening.
I put my phone and my sandwich down. I can’t manage much more of it, my nerves are starting to get the better of me, plus it’s awful. I throw bits of rye to a grateful passing pigeon. Unfortunately, he quickly lets his fellow bird people know and a flock swarm the table next to me.
‘Oi, lady, no feeding the pigeons. Did you not see the sign?’ shouts one of the staff.
The man who served me earlier comes out to see what is going on. He gives me an evil glare.
‘What is wrong with you, woman?’ he says.
I apologise and get up quickly to leave. It is time I head back to the hotel to start my transformation anyway. It is going to take me forever to get ready for the most important date of my life.
It was difficult enough trying to find a shirt for Skype the first time we met; preparing for today was a whole different situation. Ultimately, I had to invest in an outfit that portrayed a sophisticated, confident divorcee, even if the reality is that I am an anxious, nervous wreck meeting the possible love of my life for a casual walk along Central Park. It was me who decided on the Central Park bit. Patrick said he’d meet me at Tiffany’s and then I said we could walk over to Central Park, even though it is a bit of a hike. I wanted to stay public in case anything went horribly wrong and he is a murderer and not the man of my dreams after all. Although I could get dragged into a bush by him, I suppose. Hopefully, there would be some bright spark walking his dog who could save me though. I hope dogs are allowed into Central Park. Surely, they must be.
Anyway, I have invested in a pair of the best-fitting jeans I have ever found for this special occasion. My thighs don’t even look their true width in them. As for the top, that was a little more difficult.
Although the jeans were flattering, every top I tried on revealed the most hideous muffin top. Not even a muffin top, more of a complete-chocolate-gateau top really. Eventually, I discovered the most beautiful chiffon blouse. It is cream, embroidered with gold, has floaty chiffon sleeves and is so dreamy. As it has a camisole top underneath you can’t see my muffin top, nor any stretch marks courtesy of the twins. It is definitely one of those pieces that you want to keep in your wardrobe forever. The only downside is that it is a bit cold for autumn in New York – but looking good is the objective here. This is far more important than keeping my chest warm today. Luckily Mum can’t see me.
As for my shoes, I have decided on some pumps that I bought on the high street, and I think I have managed to coordinate the perfect look. For once, I feel like I have stepped off the pages of Grazia, thanks to this beautiful top and a couple of Advil. I used my curling irons to give my hair a bit of oomph and I am quite pleased with how that looks. Even my skin doesn’t look too tired with the luminous foundation I have on, thanks to my spending spree in Duty Free.
It’s soon 12:15. I have no idea how far away I am from Fifth Avenue, so I decide to give it a good forty-five minutes to walk it. I do hope that is enough time.
Whilst walking past Bergdorf Goodman, admiring the imaginative window displays, my phone bleeps. I panic that it could be Patrick cancelling. I am in such a hurry to check my WhatsApp that I drop my phone. Reading it upside down on the pavement I see that it is from Jamie. Thank goodness.
Managed to get Wi-Fi on the flight. Text me as soon as you’re finished. Good luck! Landing in about two hours. Was thinking of an Italian someone told me about for dinner. That’s if you’re not too busy with Patrick. ☺
I manage to write,
Sounds good, safe landing
before I spot Tiffany’s, right in front of me.
Oh my, oh my, oh my. He is there. Patrick is standing outside Tiffany’s, and he is beyond drop-dead gorgeous. He really is Perfect. Maybe I should cancel the walk, as I think I may have to sleep with him immediately.
Chapter 24
Tiffany’s – meeting Perfect Patrick
Stay calm, Amelia. Stay calm. My head is spinning; I am going to collapse. Is this a panic attack? Am I going to collapse? Has anyone got any Valium?
Oh shit. He has seen me. Wave Amelia, wave. My arm won’t move. Okay, it is moving slightly. I manage to lift my arm. I thank my lovely chiffon sleeves for hiding the bingo wings that are now flapping about like one of those Canadian geese.
He waves back. Oh my god. Those big muscular arms are waving back at me.
I don’t think I can breathe. Can I breathe? Help, is there a paramedic around? I’m going to faint. I think I need some kind of inhaler.
My legs are like jelly, more jelly-ish than normal. I feel like they are going to go from under me. He’s coming up to me. What on earth do I say?
‘Hey, Amelia. Wowee. Finally, we meet!’
Wowee? That sounds like something the boys would say. Just please don’t let him say amazeballs.
Patrick hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. The most loving and gentle kiss I have ever experienced. I am never going to wash my face again.
‘Hi!’ I manage to squeak. ‘So good to see you.’
‘So, umm, Central Park?’ he confirms.
‘Yeah, sure.’
Amid all the excitement, I realise that I haven’t even noticed what was in the window at Tiffany’s. I am so busy sneaking glances at Patrick that I could be anywhere in the world right now; even if I was in a flagship Christian Louboutin store I wouldn’t realise.
‘So, how’s the new hotel?’ Patrick asks politely.
‘Oh, nice, thanks, Patrick.’
‘I’m so sorry the hotel I booked didn’t work out. One of the guys at work said it was a cool place. I feel terrible you didn’t like it. I promise to make it up to you. I said I’d spoil you. That’s all I have ever wanted since we met back in 2001, umm-ish,’ he says with a big smile. ‘To spoil you forever.’
‘Close, 2000.’ I laugh.
He may not remember the exact year, but once again I am flattered. Someone wants to spoil me, he is beautiful, lives in glamorous New York and… doesn’t have long left, my anxiety quickly reminds me.
The leaves are turning the autumnal shades of purple, orange and magenta in Central Park, so it looks absolutely magnificent. I want to pinch myself. I am here with leaves scrunching beneath my feet, with the most charming man I have ever met. He is so different to Dick – a man who didn’t want to be with me – who never wanted to do anything. I am with someone who plays polo and lives what life he has left to the full and, as an added bonus, is ten times better looking than boring old Dick.
I never thought I would say it: but thank you, Tanja Tart. Thank you so much.
I stop myself. Why am I thinking of Tanja Tart when I am here with my beautiful future husband?
‘You’re quiet,’ Patrick says as he takes a long look at me. Oh no, I do hope the sunlight hasn’t accentuated that stray hair on my chin that I forgot to pluck. I feel around my chin nervously. Shit, yes, it’s still there.
‘Oh, sorry, I was thinking of something,’ I say, smiling at him.
He takes my hand and holds it tight. It is the most wonderful feeling I have had in many years. My heart is bursting with happiness.
We are walking along, hand in hand, taking in the giant skyscrapers that shadow Central Park when we come
to a bridge. Patrick seems to know his way around the park extremely well.
He stops and pulls me to one side.
‘This is called Gapstow Bridge. I often come here to chill when I am stressed at work. I love looking into the pond. I could stay here for hours,’ he says, while pulling me closer.
He looks into my eyes and, before I can say anything, he kisses me.
I don’t ever remember being kissed like this. Did Dick kiss me like this when we met? I know it has been a long time, but I don’t remember him ever kissing me like this. He seemed clumsier and his lips were hard somehow. Patrick’s lips are soft, his kiss is so delicate, so passionate, so, well, yummy. I want this feeling to last forever.
‘Oh, Patrick.’ I draw away and catch my breath. ‘You certainly know how to kiss.’ I actually feel like giggling like some kind of school girl right now.
‘I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,’ he says with a big grin.
‘Well, that was worth waiting for, that’s for sure.’ I laugh.
He draws me close again and kisses me for round two. I could definitely get used to this. He is the best kisser I have ever known. This time he slowly moves his arm down my back. Oh God, I hope he doesn’t feel all the lumps and bumps.
We pull away from each other once again and look into each other’s eyes. There is no denying the chemistry is electric. Why on earth did I not take him up on that date? Why would I not call him? I suppose it was all about fear and lack of confidence when I was younger. He asked me out; I should have gone. I resolve to never doubt myself again.
My wonderful Perfect Patrick is holding me so tight that I can feel something in his pocket. Oh no, it is a bit embarrassing, but at least he seems to feel the same as I do. Oh, now it seems to be pulsating.
‘Fuck, what now?’ says Patrick abruptly. He digs into his pocket and fishes his phone out. Oh! It was on vibrate. I thought it was a bit of a weird sensation.
‘I’m on my way, I’m on my way. Okay, don’t worry. Calm the fuck down. I’ll be there,’ he barks down the line.
I am surprised by his tone on the phone. It is as though someone suddenly flicked a switch. It makes me intrigued as to who is on the other end.
‘Listen, I have to go,’ he says as he ends the call. ‘I’ve been called away. I may have to travel tonight.’
‘Oh no. We are just getting to know each other. Do you have to leave?’ I say disappointedly.
‘It’s that boss of mine. I’m going to have to run. I’ll message you later.’
He gives me one of his amazing kisses and runs. He physically runs down Central Park, leaving me standing there all alone.
I feel as though I have been handed the most amazing Christmas present and someone has taken it away from me.
Chapter 25
Manhattan – I’ve lost Patrick
Jamie is already waiting for me inside the trendy little Italian restaurant he has chosen for us. Even though the restaurant is bustling, I quickly spot his familiar blond head and rush over to the table.
‘This looks fabulous,’ I say, looking around at the unusual décor. It has metal pipes on the ceiling and a Vespa tucked away in the corner. My mum would probably have said it needed someone to plaster the ceilings, as those pipes shouldn’t be exposed, but it all adds to the charm of the place.
‘I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you a Manhattan. Hope that’s okay? I thought you needed more than a boring old spritzer when you’re here in New York,’ says Jamie.
‘Perfect.’ I grin. ‘So, flight all okay?’
‘Not too bad,’ says Jamie. ‘Got a bit of news to tell you though. Should we order first?’
‘Hope it’s nothing bad,’ I say curiously.
‘No, not really. Probably for the best. Let’s order the food first, then chat. We only have the table for an hour or so.’
We pick up the menus as we wait for our drinks. There is so much choice I don’t know where to start. Everything sounds delicious.
‘Ooh, grilled sardines,’ I say.
‘Ooh, bruschetta,’ says Jamie.
‘Ooh, pasta with lobster,’ I say.
‘Ooooh, ravioli stuffed with meatballs.’ Jamie laughs. ‘Think it’s going to have to be three courses for me.’
‘Absolutely. Have you seen the tiramisu they have over there?’ I say, looking at the fridge full of cakes.
The server comes with the Manhattans, which are presented in Martini glasses with a juicy-looking cherry on the side of the glass.
‘Cheers,’ I say. ‘I’ve never tried one before.’
‘I haven’t either,’ confesses Jamie.
‘Ooh, it’s a bit strong, but… Yes, nice,’ I say as I take a sip.
‘Hmm, lovely,’ says Jamie, taking a huge slurp.
‘So, what’s the news?’ I ask.
‘Ladies first. How did your date with Patrick go?’ asks Jamie.
I start telling him about the date. The amazing date that was far too short.
It’s typical, but the server comes up and interrupts me as I am in full conversational flow.
Jamie orders the grilled octopus to start, and I order the sardines.
‘For main course, it has to be the lobster pasta,’ I say, my mouth watering. ‘Do you have any garlic bread?’ I ask.
It doesn’t look as though I am going to be kissing Patrick again tonight, so I think I will be safe with the garlic. I still haven’t heard anything from him, which I am a little concerned about. I am beginning to wonder whether he had some kind of code with someone: if I wasn’t how he remembered me, then they should call him and he would pretend to be called away. Then again, I think back to the palm reader: she seemed to know her stuff. Then there was that kiss, surely that gave away his feelings for me. There must be some kind of simple explanation. I guess it is because he has to work hard to earn the money and, if that means an urgent business trip, that is what he must do.
‘So, you were saying…’ Jamie says, turning back to me.
‘Well, this may sound really weird, but a fortune teller told me I was going to get married to Patrick.’
‘What?’ Jamie screams, making half the restaurant turn around. ‘You’re not going to marry a guy you don’t even know. Has he asked you to marry him?’
‘Well, no. A fortune teller I met on the flight told me. So, if that was to be true, I suppose it doesn’t really matter that our date was cut short. We would have the rest of our lives together,’ I explain. Although it is anyone’s guess how long that will be.
‘What about the boys? You don’t know this guy properly, Amelia. You’re normally the sensible one. Sian I would expect this from, but not you. How can you be sure he’s “The One”?’
‘I’m not sure he’s the one, but the fortune teller told me he was. That’s all,’ I explain again. ‘It’s all a bit strange, I agree. I suppose you can’t rule anything out though. Life does have a habit of surprising me,’ I say.
The grilled sardines arrive, and I order another Manhattan. I notice Jamie looking uncomfortable.
‘Is your octopus a bit chewy?’ I ask.
‘No, why?’
‘You don’t seem very happy, that’s all,’ I say.
‘I’m fine. Let’s just eat,’ he says.
‘Oh, look, text from Sian,’ I say, looking down at my phone. I know it is rude to be on your phone when you are at the dinner table, but I was checking in case Patrick had messaged.
How’s Perfect Patrick? Jamie said he was meeting U later. Have fun, I’m off to bed now. Tell me all tomoz. Love U xxxxxx
‘Oh, so you’ve been in touch with Sian today?’ I say.
‘Yeah, I told her I was looking forward to catching up with you tonight. I promised her I’d keep an eye on you. That’s why I’m so disappointed in you rushing into things, Amelia,’ says Jamie.
‘I’m only saying what the fortune teller told me. Of course, I’m not going to rush into getting married. Do you really think I’d do that to the boys? T
hey come first, for goodness sakes,’ I say.
‘That’s such a relief, Amelia. Great news. I just want you to be happy but take your time.’
Our main courses arrive and we gobble them up as we chat about Jamie’s dad. I didn’t realise it was his birthday today until Jamie told me.
‘To your dad,’ I say, clinking glasses. ‘The first anniversary of everything is the hardest. Remember when your dad went out and bought that XR3i convertible?’
‘Yes, Mum went nuts with him. Bless, she died not long after and Dad thought the car was cursed. I’ll never forget, she accused him of having a midlife crisis and said he would run off with a dolly bird next. Oops, sorry,’ Jamie adds, remembering my circumstances.
‘It’s fine, Tanja isn’t really a dolly bird,’ I say.
‘Oh, and do you remember when your mum went ballistic and said you’d been drinking cider with Sian?’
‘Yes, all Sian’s fault once again,’ I agree. ‘My mother stopped me from going to the rugby club disco for months.’
‘Yes, it wasn’t quite the same without you and your crazy dancing,’ says Jamie. ‘Remember, you loved that “Time Warp” song? You thought you knew every step for the dance.’
‘Oh, don’t. Nooo.’ I laugh.
Our desserts interrupt our memories and I stop talking immediately when I see the huge slice of tiramisu on the table in front of me.
Like the rest of the meal, it is absolutely superb.
‘I’m so stuffed,’ I say to Jamie. ‘I really shouldn’t have eaten all that.’
The server comes along and clears our plates the minute we put the spoons down.
‘I think they want the table back,’ says Jamie.
‘Yes, we’d better think about heading off,’ I agree.