City of Second Chances

by Jane Lacey-Crane

‘Who is she, then? Sorry, is it rude to ask that?’ said Kate.

  ‘She’s another accountant at his firm. I think I even met her once, at a Christmas party a few years back. Anyway, I thought I’d give him, and me, some space to think. Hence the reason I was so keen on this trip.’

  ‘I can’t believe it. Martin slept with another woman?’ said Kate.

  ‘That’s exactly what I said, more or less,’ I replied.

  ‘Well, that’s just how it is. I’ve decided I’m going to be calm and whatever happens, happens.’

  ‘Did you come to this zen-like solution when you had your head down the toilet this morning?’ I said.

  Rachel laughed. ‘Something like that, yes.’

  ‘Well, you’re a better woman than I am,’ said Kate. ‘I think I’d have packed his bags for him and sent him off to his lady love.’

  ‘It’s not that easy,’ I said. I didn’t want to play the whole ‘it’s different when you have kids’ card on my sister but there was no denying that it was true. When you had children to think about, the decisions you made had an impact on their lives as well as yours. Kate was lucky in a way – she had no one else to worry about. She did what she wanted, when she wanted. If she decided to up and leave all this behind to farm alpacas in the Andes, then she could. But that life had its downsides too. Kate and I had had many conversations about how lonely she was at times, and about how much she wished she’d made time to have a family when she’d had the chance. Kate was convinced that she was past all that now, despite the fact that she was only forty-two, just three years younger than me. The fact that she hadn’t been in a relationship for almost a decade probably didn’t help either, though. Kate had very high standards when it came to choosing men, standards that most mere mortals would struggle to live up to.

  She used it as a way to keep men at arm’s length, to stop herself from getting hurt, I think. We were children of divorce, you see. Our parents had finally seen sense and split up for good when we were teenagers – I was fifteen and Kate was twelve, almost thirteen – but up until that point, it had been a long road full of adultery, anger and screaming. In truth, our parents should have split up years before; it would have saved us all a lot of heartache. Ironically, they said that the two of us were what had kept them together. We were the reason they gave for staying together and yet we were the ones that were hurt the most by having to live on the battlefield they called a relationship. That experience had marked Kate and me in different ways. I’d married Tom and had kids, eager to make a family that was completely different from the one I grew up in, whereas Kate had sworn off the idea of marriage when she was only fourteen. ‘That shit is not for me,’ she’d said. We’d been at home, having just endured another tense few hours of my parents screaming at each other. My dad had moved out by this point, but he would pop in to see us on occasion. They might not have lived in the same house any more, but they’d still found ways to torture each other.

  ‘I am never getting married and I’m definitely never having kids. Who’d want to put a kid through all this crap?’ Kate had said.

  I’d told her that she would feel differently once she was older, but she was adamant, in the way that only fourteen year olds who thought they knew it all could be. I’d been right though; despite swearing off relationships, Kate had met someone whilst she was at university, David, whom she fell deeply in love with. She’d even talked about the possibility of them getting married and starting a family. But then she’d caught David in bed with her best friend and that had been the end of that. As far as Kate was concerned, all men were adulterous bastards like our father, and you couldn’t let yourself get too close to them. What had followed was a string of brief affairs and one night stands, usually with very unsuitable men. Kate had chosen to focus on her career over anything else and that had been fine until that pesky biological clock of hers had started ticking like an unexploded bomb. The last few times I’d spoken to her she’d told me that she wished she’d made different choices. I hadn’t known what to say, I’d just mumbled something unhelpful about how it wasn’t too late, and we’d left it at that. Not one of my best ‘big sister’ moments, it had to be said.

  Now I was with her, in that pristine apartment surrounded by expensive things, I was determined to be of more use. It was my turn to be there for her after she’d done so much for me. I watched her moving around the living room, folding up the cashmere throw, cleaning away the remnants of our dinner, and I swore to myself that by the time I left, Kate and I would have had a nice long talk about what she wanted out of the rest of her life. I ignored the niggling voice at the back of my mind that reminded me what a mess my own life was, choosing to focus instead on helping my baby sister get the best out of hers.

  Eleven

  ‘Are you ready for this?’ I asked Rachel.

  ‘As I’ll ever be, I suppose,’ she said, taking a deep breath and linking arms with me as we made our way up the steps and into the red brick building that was New York’s 7th Precinct.

  ‘I feel like a criminal already, and we haven’t done anything,’ whispered Rachel.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, it’s fine,’ I said, my voice full of a confidence I didn’t really feel. The black and white tiled floor of the main reception squeaked loudly underfoot as we made our way to the desk. The woman sitting behind it was on the phone.

  ‘Let’s just have a seat and wait until she’s done,’ I said, pointing to a long wooden bench that ran the length of the far wall. There was a man in handcuffs sitting on the end, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to give us any trouble – we were in a police station, after all. Rachel examined the bench before she sat down, making sure it was free from anything unpleasant.

  ‘That’s a bit much coming from a woman who’s been known to fall asleep on a toilet floor,’ I remarked.

  ‘Very funny. Just making sure I’m not sitting in anything unmentionable.’ She parked her bum gingerly on the bench and I sat beside her. We waited for about ten minutes. Each time the receptionist put down the phone we would make a move to get up but then the phone would ring again, and she would gesture for us to sit back down.

  ‘This is getting silly,’ said Rachel. ‘She can’t just make us sit here. What if this was an emergency?’

  ‘It isn’t though, is it?’ I whispered. I didn’t want the lady to overhear. Our mere presence seemed to have annoyed her; I didn’t think Rachel getting all stroppy would do much to aid our cause. ‘Look, see, she’s ready for us.’ The receptionist was waving us over to her.

  ‘About fucking time,’ muttered Rachel.

  As we approached the desk, I gave the receptionist my biggest smile, the one usually reserved for really stroppy waitresses or surly shop assistants. It was like a sickness with me – the grumpier the person I encountered, the more I would try to compensate by grinning at them like an idiot. I was fighting negativity with joy, one snotty waitress at a time; I was like a superhero.

  Rachel saw my wide smile and shook her head. ‘You know you look nuts when you smile like that. Just relax. I’ll take care of everything.’

  ‘Can I help you, ladies?’ The receptionist wore a name badge that read ‘Delores’ pinned to her blue shirt, and she was sporting the largest gold hoop earrings I think I’ve ever seen. Seriously, I could have used one as a hula hoop, they were that big.

  ‘Yes, we would be very grateful if you could tell Lieutenant Bittenbinder that we are here to speak to him about a rather urgent matter,’ said Rachel, haughtily.

  I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing; she sounded like something straight out of Downton Abbey. She’d also adopted the raised chin and stiff back pose that made her look like Dame Maggie Smith. Poor Delores didn’t quite know how to react. I thought at one point she was going to curtsey, but she seemed to rally herself at the last minute.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure if that’s possible. I’ll just have to check. Can I tell him what this is regarding?’

  ‘It�
��s about a missing person and possibly a dead body. Is that enough information for you to be able to do your job?’

  Delores stood up and made her way towards the back of the office.

  ‘Are you going to tell her to run along, like a good girl?’ I said, smirking.

  ‘Just wanted to make sure they knew we were serious, that’s all,’ said Rachel, still holding her chin in the air like a dowager duchess.

  ‘Serious about what? Recapturing the colonies? I feel like your bloody lady-in-waiting.’ We both started sniggering but stopped as Delores made her way back towards us.

  ‘I’ve told the lieutenant you’re here. He’ll be out in a minute, if you’d just take a seat over there.’ Delores gestured back to the bench and we sat.

  I watched the clock on the wall tick round until eventually, after about twenty minutes, I saw a man coming towards us. He was tall and broad shouldered, he had his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow and he was carrying a gun in a shoulder holster.

  ‘Be still my beating heart,’ Rachel leant across to whisper to me. ‘Look at the size of those arms. He’s like all my cop fantasies rolled into one.’

  I didn’t want to dwell on how many cop fantasies she had. I sensed there were lots of them that didn’t need to be shared.

  ‘Behave yourself, Rachel,’ I warned.

  ‘Good morning, ladies. I’m Lieutenant Bittenbinder, how can I help you?’ He reached out and shook both of our hands in turn. When he held Rachel’s hand I was sure I heard her moan just a little and I prayed that the nice man hadn’t heard. She’d obviously been rendered mute by his touch, so I figured it was up to me to explain.

  ‘We’re here about those bodies that were found in the forest, in Albany. We think one of them may be a friend of ours. Well, we don’t think, the newspapers have suggested it.’

  ‘You’re British?’

  ‘Yes. Our friend Olivia went missing some time ago. Twenty-two years ago in fact. The last time we were here. You were handling the case at the time. You probably don’t remember… I…’

  ‘I drove you guys to the airport the day you left, right?’

  ‘That’s right. I’m Evie Grant and this is Rachel Connors.’ I gestured to the doe-eyed fool standing next to me.

  ‘My God, I can’t believe you came all this way.’

  ‘Well, Olivia didn’t have any family.’ Rachel had found her voice suddenly. ‘We felt like we owed it to her to come and see if she’d been found.’

  ‘I do remember you, both of you,’ he said, looking at Rachel. She blushed a little and I rolled my eyes. She was shameless. ‘But I’m not sure how much help I can be. It’s no longer my case. The bodies were found in Albany and the investigators believe that the victims may be from all over, so the FBI are in charge now.’

  ‘Then what do we do now?’ asked Rachel. ‘We just want to help find our friend.’

  ‘I understand that, ladies, really, I get it. All I can say is that if you leave me your details, I’ll make a few calls and let you know what I find out. Are you staying in Manhattan?’

  ‘Yes, with my sister.’

  ‘Well, all right, then. Leave your details with Delores and I’ll be in touch as soon as I find anything out.’ He shook both our hands again and then turned to go.

  ‘Lieutenant?’ He stopped and turned back to face me. ‘Do you think it’s her?’

  ‘I honestly can’t say, and I make it a habit never to guess. Like I said, I’ll be in touch. And please, call me J.J.’ He smiled at us both and then walked away.

  ‘Okay, bye J.J.!’ Rachel called after him. I shook my head at her.

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘He told us we should call him J.J. I’m just doing as I’m told.’

  I gave Delores all our details and we left the station. I felt odd, as if I’d lost all my drive and energy. What had seemed like a good idea, now seemed like a childish impulse. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear from J.J. Bittenbinder. As I’d been standing there, explaining to him who we were and why we’d come, I’d suddenly felt very stupid. Maybe it was all best left alone?

  Rachel and I started to walk back to my sister’s apartment. The route took us right past the diner I’d had breakfast in yesterday.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ I said.

  Rachel looked at her watch. ‘It’s only eleven but I could eat.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Come with me, you’re in for a treat.’ I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her across the street and into the diner. It was busier than the day before; there were no seats available at the counter and all the booths were full except one, way down at the end. Judy saw me straight away and came rushing over to give me a welcome back hug.

  ‘Hey, Joe, look who’s back for more of your sexy pancakes,’ she called out towards the kitchen. Joe stuck his wizened old face out of the servery.

  ‘I told you yesterday, lady, if you can’t find a man who makes you feel as good as my cookin’ does, you’re in trouble.’

  ‘Thanks, Joe, I’ll bear that in mind.’ I laughed.

  ‘And who is this?’ said Judy, looking Rachel up and down.

  ‘This is my best friend, Rachel. Rachel, this is the lovely Judy.’

  ‘Well, any friend of this girl’s is a friend of mine. Come on, let’s get you sat down.’ She ushered us over to the empty booth and then she headed back out to the kitchen.

  ‘Wow! I leave you alone for one morning and you end up making friends with the locals. You’re a marvel.’ Rachel perused the menu, but I didn’t even pick mine up; I knew what I was having.

  ‘We bonded over our shared experiences of widowhood,’ I said.

  ‘Blimey! How long were you in here for?’ said Rachel, putting down her menu.

  ‘I guess Judy just must have a knack for getting people to open up.’

  At that moment I watched Judy come out from behind the counter, holding two plates with one hand and a jug of water with the other. She was a marvel. She popped the plates down and then one of the customers she was waiting on picked up their phone and showed the screen to her. Judy looked in my direction and then back to the phone. She said something I couldn’t hear and then just shrugged. The other customer at the same table, the one with their back to me, turned around to look, before quickly turning back. Judy left them to their discussions and made her way over to Rachel and me.

  ‘You decided what you’re gonna have, ladies?’ she said, pulling a notepad out of her apron.

  ‘I’m going for the classic Reuben sandwich, I think,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Good choice. And for you, gorgeous? Don’t tell me – more pancakes?’

  I nodded, and Judy took our menus.

  ‘What was all that about?’ I asked. Judy looked back down the restaurant.

  ‘Ah, it’s nothin’. More gossip. Some people just like to be in other people’s business, is all. I’ll be right back with your order.’ She wandered back down the restaurant and as she went I noticed that a few other customers were now looking in my direction.

  ‘Why do I get the feeling everyone is staring at me?’ I said. Rachel turned to see what I was talking about.

  ‘No idea. Maybe they think you’re famous. Probably heard you speak and thought you were Kate Winslet.’

  ‘Ha bloody ha.’

  ‘Anyway, forget all that. What are we going to do now? Whilst we wait for the luscious lieutenant to get back to us.’

  ‘Not a lot we can do,’ I said with a sigh. I didn’t feel like talking about it now; ever since we’d left the precinct I could feel my mood taking a nosedive. Where was Judy with those bloody pancakes? I needed to eat my feelings as soon as possible. I scanned the diner for any sign that salvation was on its way, but I was disappointed. All I saw were people trying not to stare – at me.

  ‘Did I have my knickers on show when we walked in here?’

  ‘You’re wearing jeans, my dear, so that’s not possible.’

  ‘Then why do those people keep staring at me?’

  Rachel got up
from her chair. ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’

  ‘Rachel, no, stop, what are you doing?’ I reached out to try and grab her, but I was too late. She strode down the diner to the very last table by the door and then leaned down to speak to the woman sitting there, the one who had the phone. The woman showed Rachel something on it and Rachel looked down in my direction and then back at the phone. What the hell? I saw her smile at the lady and the lady smiled back, so I figured it couldn’t be too bad. Rachel came back to the table and slid into the booth, taking her time placing her napkin on her lap before looking at me. She had a twinkle in her eye and a smirk that made me uncomfortable.

  ‘So?’ I said, unable to stand the silence any longer.

  ‘Who was a busy little bee yesterday, then?’ she replied.

  ‘What? How do you mean?’ I was lost.

  She arched one eyebrow and I wanted to punch her; I hate being kept in the dark.

  ‘I came here for breakfast and then I went to the bookstore – nothing very exciting.’

  ‘You call getting a snog from a movie star “nothing very exciting”. You’re such a dark horse sometimes, Evie.’ Rachel took her phone out of her bag and tapped something in. She scrolled through a few things until she found what she wanted and then she turned the phone around to show me: a picture of Daniel holding my hand and kissing me on the cheek. I’d been right – I had heard someone taking a picture. Shit. I reached out and took the phone from her. The picture was on a celebrity gossip site and the tagline underneath read, ‘Daniel Roberts Spotted in NY with Mystery Woman’. I was a mystery woman! The article underneath talked about how we’d been hiding in the back of the bookstore, trying to avoid being spotted, and had spent several minutes in a passionate embrace.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ I exclaimed. ‘They can’t just make stuff up. That’s not what happened at all.’ I gave Rachel her phone back and slumped down in my seat, my mood even darker.

  ‘Looks like the story’s been picked up by a few websites,’ she said, scrolling through her phone. ‘You’re famous, Evie.’