Mistletoe on 34th Street Read online

  ‘Do you think?’ I asked. My insides fizzed at the thought.

  ‘Of course. I haven’t heard you this excited about a man since that Draco Malfoy lookalike in that club last year.’

  ‘It was a shame that was a gay club … ’

  ‘This Elijah is basically perfect for you. You can have a great time with him with zero commitment, what with him living an ocean away and all.’

  ‘Is it sad that that’s true?’

  ‘Not at all. Have some fun and maybe you’ll come out of it feeling like you’re ready to start dating properly again. Anyway, there’s no rush. And don’t overthink it. If you’re both happy with nostrings Christmas canoodling, then treat yourself. Pull up those Christmas stockings and put an unexpected item in his bagging area.’ Kim pulled a face. ‘Urgh, what am I talking about?’

  ‘You are quite disgusting,’ I laughed.

  ‘But … ’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you do decide you want something, er, sexy, you know you really don’t need to look any further than the man who’s sleeping down the corridor from you.’

  ‘OK, I’m going to hang up now, I’m sure you have some couples massage to go and look smug about.’

  ‘Nooooo, don’t leave me, I’m bored,’ wailed Kim.

  ‘I’m so sleepy and I have to be up early.’ I yawned at her face.

  ‘I’ll sing you to sleep, it’ll be like the old days when you’d drunk a little too much and your head was spinning and the only thing that helped was me singing Disney songs and stroking your head.’

  Mmmm, that did sound nice. I snuggled down in the bed and propped my phone so that Kim and I were facing each other. I closed my eyes and she smiled at her choice of song, as she launched into a soothing version of The Little Mermaid’s ‘Kiss the Girl’.

  19 December

  6 days to Christmas

  I woke up to the sound of my alarm, and my first thought was of Elijah. It was nice to have met a man, even if it was only fleeting. But that was OK, that was how I liked it. Relationships are hard and involve too much leg shaving and sharing and trust.

  I yawned and made myself get out of bed. Jon’s note had said 7.30 a.m., so I piled on some winter woollies and my lovely mac, and paused just before heading out the door. Should I try Anne again? I hovered with my phone in my hand. No, it was too early.

  I reached the near-deserted lobby and was mid-yawn when Jon swung through the revolving door, bringing in a gust of cold air, dark and snow. He was carrying two takeaway coffee cups, a paper bag dangling from his wrist, and a big smile.

  ‘You made it! Good morning, sleepyhead!’ He leaned over and kissed my cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world and I flash-remembered Elijah’s face and lips from last night. Kissing was nice … I snapped out of it, realising I was staring at Jon’s lips. Could Jon tell from my lips what I’d been doing last night?

  ‘Of course,’ I said quickly. ‘Mmm, coffee … ’

  ‘And breakfast. Almond croissant OK?’

  ‘Perfect,’ I yelped, my stomach growling on cue.

  ‘We have to go, you ready?’

  ‘Yep, where are we going?’

  He motioned for me to exit the hotel first and though I was steady on the sidewalk outside, his long legs slipped immediately on the ice and he had to steady himself on me. ‘Careful out here,’ he smiled, and took my hand.

  ‘Haha, get off, you baby.’ A little nervous laughter escaped and I looked behind me back at the hotel. The last thing I needed was Jasmine or Abigail or someone catching me holding hands with Jon and giving me ‘we knew it’ faces.

  I adjusted my earmuffs, pushing my rapidly frizzing hair up and out of my eyes, and slotted an arm through Jon’s for balance, freeing my hands to hold my coffee cup in one and stuff croissant into my mouth with the other.

  ‘Nice, huh?’ Jon smiled at the sight of my scarf covered in flaked almonds and icing sugar. ‘I got them out of a bin just around the corner.’

  I laughed. ‘Yum. Hey, did you look at the UK weather this morning?’

  ‘I did – it still looks pretty grim. I’d be surprised if we fly out today.’

  I sighed. ‘The BA woman said they’d send a rep to the hotel at eleven thirty this morning to give us an update one way or another. How about Virgin?’

  ‘Twelve.’

  ‘So we have this morning at least. Can I know where we’re going or not?’

  ‘You can! Now I know you went to the Empire State Building last night, that Elijah totally stole my plan, but if you can handle one more spectacular view I’ve got something I think you’ll love.’

  I looked up at the dark sky and watched the white speckles of snow appear as if from nowhere and float down around us. I chose my words carefully, not wanting to sound insulting about Elijah or the date. ‘Actually, we didn’t go up the Empire State in the end – I made a mistake. We just met there and then went to dinner.’

  ‘He met you at the Empire State but didn’t take you up there? Wow, that’s ice-ice-baby-cold.’ He peeped a look at me, smirking. ‘What a tease.’

  I shoved him with my elbow. ‘We had a really nice dinner, the restaurant was apparently some New York staple, so it was, in fact, a great experience, and I feel richer for having done it. So there.’

  ‘Then he’s done me a favour – now I don’t feel like you’ll be too bored doing what we have planned.’

  We reached the Brooklyn Bridge. In front of us New York was waking up, its lights coming on and the sky slowly turning lighter. I stopped and took in the view of Manhattan.

  ‘I love looking at this city.’ I breathed in a lungful of frosty air.

  ‘I’m very glad to hear that.’

  ‘What do we have planned?’

  ‘What’s your favourite place in New York?’ he asked, and we continued walking over the bridge.

  I thought. ‘Central Park?’

  He smiled at me. ‘Really? We only went there yesterday.’

  ‘I know, but it was so relaxing – no, screw Central Park: Rockefeller! Rockefeller will always be my favourite – sorry, Kim!’ I called into the early morning air.

  ‘Correct! So you and I are jumping on a subway to 30 Rock, and heading up to the top.’

  ‘To the top of the 30 Rock? Is that allowed?’

  ‘Yes, it’s called Top of the Rock and you get these amazing views across the city, and you can look down at the tree which will make Kim jealous, and the best thing is that when you go up 30 Rock your view includes the Empire State Building, which is pretty cool. So to hell with Elijah and his not-taking-you-up-the-most-famous-building-in-the-world. This is going to be even better.’

  ‘Wait. You can really go to the top of the Rockefeller Center?’

  ‘Yes you can, if you want to?’

  ‘Hell, yes, I want to! Jon, you’re the best!’ I took off in a speed walk across the rest of the Brooklyn Bridge, snow blowing into my face, and Jon jogging to catch up with me. ‘Come on, Jon,’ I called back into the wind. ‘We don’t have all day.’

  Being inside the Rockefeller Center made me feel like Liz Lemon. I took about a dozen photos before we even got up to the observation deck so I could send them to Kim.

  But then I saw the view from the top and … it was everything. Pale yellows and blues danced off glass skyscrapers as the morning sun washed over the city with an icy calmness. Building tops were white with overnight snow, and in the distance Lady Liberty’s flame glinted over the New York harbour. And front and centre was the Empire State Building, standing tall and iconic. I found myself thinking, not for the first time on this trip, I love this city.

  Jon turned to face the view and take a photo on his phone. ‘So if we don’t go home today, if we get another night in New York City, will you be free for the rest of the day or will you be seeing Elijah again?’

  I examined Jon’s profile. ‘I might see him again. Assuming he wants to as well. I farted on our date, you know.’

  Jon did a
double take that nearly had him lobbing his phone over the side of Rockefeller Center.

  ‘You farted? Did he … notice?’

  ‘I don’t know. It was only a small one and I was laughing quite loudly so maybe not.’ I shrugged. ‘Everybody does it, we’re all human and I’m not ashamed. But maybe he’s not into a modern woman.’

  Jon chuckled and went back to taking photos. I stuffed my gloved hands into my pockets and exhaled a cloud of chilly vapour into the cold morning air. ‘But yes, if he wants to hang out again I think I will. It’s good to make the most of people if you’re only with them a short period of time.’

  ‘Says the girl who’s been longing to get home and have some time to herself ever since we arrived. What’s so special about Elijah?’

  I rolled my eyes at his tone of voice; I didn’t know what he had against the name ‘Elijah’. ‘I can’t say if there’s anything special about him yet, but I’m just dying to find out,’ I laughed. ‘Or maybe I’ll just hang out by myself. You’re right; me, myself and I are frankly gagging for each other’s company. We might go Christmas shopping, like a normal person in December. But thank you for this,’ I added, afraid he’d think I was ungrateful for what he was trying to do for me.

  I waited for him to turn his gaze to me.

  ‘I mean it,’ I said. ‘Thank you for bringing me here. Thanks for being my guardian Clarence angel and showing me a bit of what New York is really all about.’

  ‘What New York at Christmas is all about,’ Jon clarified, ‘and we’re just getting started. I have plenty more up my sleeve if we don’t go home today.’

  ‘Are you worried at all?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About the snow. About not getting home for Christmas.’

  Jon shook his head, beaming a smile out over Manhattan and jiggling on the spot to keep warm. ‘Nope, I’m quite happy. Besides, the UK has the silliest weather in the world. It may be a white Christmas now, but give it a couple of days and it’ll be washed away by rain and by New Year’s we’ll have a heatwave. Then it’ll hail and go back to cold again. So no, I’m not worried, we’ll get home.’

  ‘It’s Boxing Day one week from today, you know.’ We walked around the observation deck to face Central Park; a patchy white blanket draped over seven miles of the city.

  ‘So it is.’

  ‘What do you think you’ll be doing this time in a week? It’s about one thirty in the afternoon at home.’

  ‘I’ll be long gone. My whole family will be. We’d have recently finished a huge lunch of leftovers, and something will be showing on the TV, like an Agatha Christie adaptation or The NeverEnding Story, and whoever had got stuck with the washing up will have full use of the two sofas to lie back on. Everyone else will be in some overstuffed state of coma draped over the armchairs or in a pool on the floor. The wrapping paper from Christmas Day will still be in disarray around us, someone will have trodden chocolate orange into the carpet, which one of the dogs will be licking at, and the kids will keep falling asleep and then waking up to either play with presents or ask why they don’t have any presents left. Ahh, it’s the best time of the day.’ He smiled. ‘What do you think you’ll be doing this time next week?’

  ‘Well, I have a Christmas tree, which is a first for me,’ I said, proudly. ‘But there won’t be presents or wrapping under it. Which is fine, by the way. So I think I’ll be munching bacon, curled on my sofa, reading some grisly book about murder which I’ll love, and probably taking frequent naps in various places around the house.’

  ‘Like a cat.’

  ‘Indeed.’ I looked at my watch and sighed. ‘But I don’t know, maybe I’ll stick on a Christmas film after all – something New Yorky, something like Elf. Now, I really don’t want to leave, but we need to get back to the hotel soon.’

  Jon sighed. ‘It’s that time already? All right.’ We began making our way towards the elevators down. ‘I don’t want to leave either,’ he said. ‘Not at all.’

  We squished into the lift with a whole lot of other people, and I was pressed against Jon, eyeball to pec. ‘Rockefeller, or New York?’ I asked.

  ‘A bit of both. It feels like there’s a little magic in the air at the moment.’

  ‘Because of Christmas? I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think I’m beginning to understand what you mean.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jon agreed. ‘Because of Christmas.’

  Back at the hotel, Jon and I hung around the lobby looking at the photos from this morning on our phones and drinking the free coffee, waiting for the BA rep and the other members of Girls of the World to arrive. Abigail arrived first, bags under eyes and make-up free. She looked worried, and sad. Before I could go to her, Dee appeared, with Ian strolling over casually moments behind her. They did not look sad. They looked like they could be on their honeymoon, with their easy smiles and relaxed demeanours. Jasmine was last, wearing her flight outfit again, fully intending to go home as soon as she possibly could, through hell, high water, or deep snow.

  Since the Virgin rep wasn’t due for another half an hour, Jon hung about close by to earwig, and Carl joined him.

  The BA rep arrived and began with a sigh, which is never a positive start. ‘I’m sorry to say that, as yet, there’s no improvement with the weather in the UK.’

  There was a collective groan from the group of passengers, but I did spot Ian lightly stroke the back of Dee’s hand with his.

  ‘Is it getting worse?’ asked Abigail.

  ‘Well … yes. There is definitely a disimprovement, to be honest. No flights will operate today. If there’s any change whatsoever we’ll attempt to reach you all by phone, and will also contact the hotel here who will post any updates on that flipchart over there by the coffee machine.’

  ‘So we, um, could we fly somewhere else and then get a train into the UK?’ Abigail pressed. ‘If it’s not improving how are we going to get home for Christmas?’

  The BA rep shook her head. ‘I don’t know. We have considered diverting our flights to elsewhere in Europe, but many of their airports are closed too. Their train stations are closed. Their roads are closed.’ She looked at our faces as this sank in. ‘Europe is under a blanket of snow.’

  As a group we stood silently, digesting this information for a moment until one woman piped up with, ‘This is bloody ridiculous. You wait years for a white Christmas and when one finally comes you’ve buggered off to America.’

  We all nodded in agreement, concluding that it really was bloody rude of the weather.

  The BA rep continued. ‘There’s still the best part of a week before Christmas, so don’t get disillusioned yet. But I do understand – I want to go home too. My husband cooks a cracking turkey.’

  I for one had no right to complain. I wanted to go home so I could sit on my arse on my own, my biggest decision being whether to eat cold pizza or a packet of Pop-Tarts for breakfast. Whether to watch Pitch Perfect for the ten millionth time or finally get round to watching Blackfish, like I’d told everybody I already had. But some people, including this poor woman, actually had plans. With real-life people.

  OK, as Kim would say: no grumbling. It is what it is. I pulled out my phone and began to walk away from the group.

  ‘Are you calling Elijah?’ Jon stopped me.

  ‘No, I was calling my parents, but then yeah, I might call Elijah.’

  ‘Let’s go ice-skating!’ he bellowed, fists in the air.

  ‘YES,’ cried Carl, standing up behind Jon, munching into a big bag of Lay’s.

  ‘Let’s go ice-skating, with Carl,’ Jon said, a little less enthusiastically.

  ‘You’re going ice-skating?’ said Abigail softly. ‘Can I come with you? I can’t really think of anything to do by myself for another day.’

  ‘Ice-skating! What fun! Can we come? I mean, can I come?’ piped up Dee, followed by Ian with, ‘Yes, and can I come too, if you’re all going?’

  Jon was grinning at me, and although he was definitely do
ing this on purpose – he seemed very anti-Elijah – ice-skating did sound very New York at Christmas, and what did I promise myself?

  ‘Fine, sounds great. I’m just going to update my parents and then I’ll call Elijah, see if he wants to join us.’ I smirked and was about to turn away when I remembered. ‘In the meantime, shouldn’t you wait for the Virgin rep to actually confirm you two aren’t flying today?’

  ‘Oh yeah … ’

  I rang Mum and gave her the news that I wouldn’t be home for another day. She asked me to give Anne a ring, as if I hadn’t been trying, and she also updated me on Lucy (still not on a plane to Thailand: still not a happy bunny: potential to fly today, though unlikely). Then I called Elijah.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, my heart thumping.

  ‘Hi,’ he replied, yawning.

  ‘It’s Olivia.’

  ‘The Big O. I know it’s you, my British butterfly.’

  I shuddered. ‘The Big O’ brought back memories from high school and teenage boys thinking they were funny. I ignored that part. ‘So you may have already heard, but the BA rep is here at the hotel and she just confirmed we won’t be flying today. Maybe tomorrow, she said, though … ’ I paused.

  ‘Well that sucks. Or maybe it doesn’t. You all right, O?’ he asked, sounding concerned. I liked when he called me ‘O’, just not ‘The Big O’.

  I edged further away from the group. ‘I don’t think we’ll go home tomorrow. I mean already they have two days of backlog and the storms don’t look like they’re going to clear anytime soon. I’m not sure I’m going to get my team home for Christmas.’

  ‘Or you?’

  ‘Me, not so important.’

  ‘I think you’re important.’

  ‘But I’m not going home to anything, or anyone, which is kind of the point, but I feel bad for them … Anyway. I don’t know if you’re at all interested but we’re going to go ice-skating this afternoon, if you want to join us. If you want to meet up again. It’s no biggie if you don’t, you know, whatever, man … ’ I trailed off and waited.

  ‘I mean, I want to see you, but … ice-skating?’

  ‘Yep. Getting my Christmas on, bitches.’ Cringe.