by Mandy Baggot
‘Yeah, we got her good,’ Seth admitted. ‘Nothing often gets past my mom, but this did, and it was perfect.’
‘It was a perfect night,’ Lara said with a contented sigh. Except this perfect night was going to end with a departure back to the UK the next day. And she knew Susie was feeling the same. So much so, Susie had investigated how much it would be to change their tickets, and the answer was a small fortune this close to Christmas.
‘Hey,’ Seth said. ‘It’s not over yet.’ He held her tight, his hands running down her back.
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘We have a whole night of trying to make love louder than Susie and David, so we don’t have to listen to their carnal noises.’
‘Oh no we don’t,’ Seth answered. ‘And I’m not sure I can ever do that again.’
‘You’re not staying the night with me?’ Lara said, stepping away and staring up at him like he’d just announced The Foo Fighters were breaking up.
‘I meant the noises and no,’ he said. ‘I’m not staying the night with you in that apartment where the walls are so thin.’
‘But the bed at your apartment is lumpy,’ Lara reminded. ‘And Trent forgets I might be there and somehow is naked in the bathroom every time I get up in the night to pee.’ She could attest to this after two stays at his West Village place.
‘We’re not staying at my apartment either,’ Seth said.
‘The shelter? I’m pretty sure that would be wrong.’
He smiled. ‘We’re staying here. At the Edison.’
She opened her mouth then closed it again then opened it once more. ‘But, Seth, money …’
‘I know, but, I didn’t book the Presidential Suite or anything and … this is important,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Yes, it is.’ She settled back into his arms, letting him move them slowly in a circular motion. ‘And I bet this place has chocolates on the pillow and everything.’
‘It serves great beer, I know that much,’ Seth answered.
‘Then maybe we should get a couple … to take away,’ Lara suggested. ‘For our room.’
‘I like your thinking,’ Seth said, kissing her lips.
‘Excuse me! Excuse me everyone!’
‘Oh my God,’ Lara exclaimed, looking to the stage where Susie was addressing the room through the microphone. ‘What is she doing?’
‘S-sorry for interrupting the dancing and the party and everything but there’s s-something I have to say … and I have to say it tonight because I can’t say it any other time … because tomorrow, I leave!’ Susie spread her arms out wide, with drama, and almost toppled over.
‘Oh no,’ Lara remarked. ‘She’s drunk too much red wine. This is what she gets like when she’s drunk too much red wine.’
‘And … before anyone tries to get me down … Lara, I’m looking at you … I haven’t had too much red wine.’
‘Says the woman who’s definitely had too much red wine,’ Lara muttered to Seth.
‘What do we do?’ Seth asked her.
‘I don’t know,’ Lara admitted. Then: ‘Pray?’
‘David! David, come up here! Come right up here, stand right down there, where I can see you.’ Susie hiccuped.
Lara side-eyed the crowd, watching from their tables, other couples on the dance floor, Earl on about his fifth dessert, Maggie standing on a chair. Then David came into view, his turquoise suit making him easy to pick out.
‘Susie,’ he called. ‘Come on, you haven’t given me a dance yet. Why don’t we do that now?’ He looked to the band, as if seeking help with the situation.
‘Don’t you play!’ Susie said, spinning around and pointing at the singer as if warning him that making any sound at all was going to end in his demise. ‘David,’ Susie purred. ‘I know I’m going home tomorrow and I know we live so far apart at the moment but I want you to know that … I love you.’ She blubbed, tears slipping from her eyes like ice dripping off a defrosting car windscreen. ‘I love you so much. Being here in New York with you, spending time with you, around the demands of the prince … and, the foils and the feathering … it’s just made me realise that we’re meant to be together. And it doesn’t matter to me that you’re on this side of the world and I’m … not … because it won’t always be that w-way.’ She fell off her shoe, then very quickly recovered. ‘But it matters to me that you know just how committed I am to you and that I’m committed to you … even though you’re going to blow a month’s wages and more on a brooch for your grandmother … because that’s nice! That’s because that’s you … my sweet, sexy David.’
‘Oh my God,’ Lara exclaimed, hands going to her mouth. ‘I know what she’s going to do.’
‘David, I love you,’ Susie said, the volume of her declaration causing a squealing feedback on the microphone. She paused a beat, as if she was waiting for everyone’s ears to recover. ‘David, will you marry me?’
A hush descended and every person in the room was looking at the diminutive Spaniard in the brightly coloured suit with the perfectly quiffed hair.
‘Susie,’ David said, striding forward. ‘You are the most irritating chica I have ever met, you know this, right?’
‘Uh oh,’ Lara commented, letting go of Seth. ‘This doesn’t sound good.’
‘I …’ Susie began, wobbling again on her shoes.
David was marching up onto the stage now, each footstep making a thudding impact. ‘Always you have to be the one in control. Well, I cannot take this any more.’ He stopped walking only when he was right in front of her. ‘I will not take this any more. I am a traditional man. You ask me a question that strips me of my masculinity and I will not stand for this.’
Where was Susie’s relationship know-how now? It seemed her friend was breaking every single relationship protocol in one fell swoop. And now she looked like she was going to burst into drunken tears. That never went well. It usually led to ugly crying and more red wine. Lara picked up the skirt of her outfit-repeat red dress and prepared to rescue her friend. Seth caught her arm.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Just a minute.’
‘I have been carrying this around for the past two days waiting for the right moment, wondering if I should really do this before you leave, thinking that you might not feel the same, but never thinking for one moment that you would do this!’ David whipped a blue box out of his trouser pocket and Lara watched as her friend let out an almighty gasp of shock. It wasn’t just any blue box. It was a turquoise blue box … a Tiffany’s box.
‘If that’s a brooch I’m going to murder him,’ Lara remarked.
‘Susie,’ David said, sinking down onto one knee in an effortless move. ‘I ask … will you marry me?’ He popped the top off the box and even from her position on the dance floor, Lara could see that it was not a brooch, it was a ring and its diamond was of epic proportions.
The guests all gasped now and waited in anticipation for what was going to happen next.
‘Get up!’ Susie ordered, using appropriate hand gestures. ‘Get up and get that ring on my finger and hold me like I’m your sexy giraffe!’ She grinned. ‘Yes! The answer is yes!’
Seth put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly and Lara clapped as hard as her injured arm would allow, tears forming in her eyes. She couldn’t have been more pleased for her very best friend.
‘Lara!’
Lara stood stock still, like someone had walked over her grave. It was all Susie’s shouting over the microphone, it was affecting her ears.
‘Lara!’
What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she hearing Aldo’s voice? The tiny clutch bag was on her table, not with her, she couldn’t accidentally have called him.
‘Lara! New York is so big!’
She span around then, the voice closer and came face to grinning face with her almost-brother. Aldo was standing right there, in New York, on the ballroom floor, sporting an I Heart NYC baseball cap. She could not believe it. She opened and closed her m
outh, she looked to Seth, then back to Aldo, then finally she spoke.
‘Aldo, please, please tell me you did not just get on a plane and leave Appleshaw without telling Dad where you were going.’
‘Don’t I get hugs?’ Aldo asked, still grinning. ‘I haven’t seen you for weeks.’
‘It hasn’t been that long,’ she protested, but her heart was jumping joyfully at the sight of him. She threw her arms around him holding him close, breathing in that Aldo scent of sticker books mixed with engine oil and the Lynx she always bought for him. She let him go then and made a serious face. ‘Dad does know you’re here, doesn’t he? Or have I got sixty-five missed calls on my phone?’
‘Yes, Dad knows he’s here.’ It was Gerry’s voice. ‘Because Dad came with him.’
And there was her dad, dressed in his best clothes, plaid shirt and smart grey trousers, smiling at her like being in New York a few days before Christmas was completely normal. It wasn’t. It was so far from normal for all of them that it was nearly surreal.
‘I … don’t understand,’ Lara stated, shock kicking in.
‘Oh, Lara,’ Aldo said shaking his head. ‘Dad and Mrs Fitch got on the internet and found this cool site with all these cheap deals for flights, and we sold the old piano no one played, and Mr Jones finally paid his invoices, and then we got Silas to take us to the airport and we flew …’ He made appropriate whooshing noises and swayed his hand around like a plane. ‘And I ate all the plane food, even the dry bits and then we landed – eventually – and then we came here. We’re staying at this hotel because you showed me the pictures and Dad said it wasn’t too expensive, and then I took photos of the tall buildings and the cars and—’
‘You sounded so happy in your calls, Lara,’ Gerry told her. ‘And all the things you were talking about … Aldo didn’t stop going on about the food and the beer and the Statue of Liberty and the Christmas markets and the reindeer and—’
‘The stitches in her arm from the fight,’ Aldo added.
‘What?!’ Gerry exclaimed, looking at his nearly son.
‘Oh, didn’t I tell you about that bit? Sorry.’
‘I’m fine, Dad, really,’ Lara answered.
‘I just thought, why have you come home for Christmas and do the same thing we do every year, when Aldo and I can come here too, and we can do something different, something none of us have done before. Spend Christmas in New York.’
‘But, Dad, the haulage yard …’
‘Closed for Christmas,’ Gerry said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘First time in twenty-five years.’
‘But, my flight back tomorrow …’
‘You’ll never guess how much I got for that piano,’ Gerry said. ‘We can change it.’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Lara gushed, flinging her arms around him and hugging him hard.
Seth couldn’t believe it. Her family had flown across the world to be with her, so they could spend a Christmas like no other before. He really hoped he could be a part of that.
‘Oh, Dad, Aldo, I want you to meet …’ Lara began.
‘You must be Seth,’ Gerry said, extending his hand.
‘No dojo, Seth,’ Aldo said with a grin.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,’ Seth said, shaking his hand. ‘You too, Aldo.’
‘I’ve heard a lot about you from Lara,’ Gerry continued. ‘I hope she hasn’t got you into too much trouble already.’
‘Hey, Dad!’ Lara exclaimed.
Seth slipped an arm around Lara’s waist and held her close. ‘Ah, Mr Weeks, it’s nothing I can’t handle.’
‘He’s funny,’ Aldo remarked, pointing at Seth. ‘You’re funny. I like you.’
Seventy-Two
Christmas Day, Kossy and Ted’s home, Gramercy
‘Did you make the thick gravy?’ Aldo asked Kossy. ‘I like the thick gravy.’
‘Aldo, don’t be rude,’ Lara said. ‘We’re in America now, sometimes things are a bit different.’
‘Like everything is so tall,’ Aldo said, putting his hand up to the sky. ‘And everything is wider too …’ He almost knocked a row of Kossy’s ornaments off the dresser. ‘And it’s colder and snowier and Father Christmas sounds funny when he talks.’
‘Aldo still believes in Father Christmas,’ Lara whispered to Seth. They were all preparing to sit around the family dinner table for a turkey feast of monstrous proportions. There was a giant turkey – the size of a fat ostrich – sitting on a platter in the middle of the table, its skin tanned and glistening, and it was surrounded by all the trimmings in mismatched crockery collected over many years. There were peas, carrots, sprouts, puréed cauliflower, mashed potatoes and sweetcorn and Lara’s stomach was rumbling at the thought of being able to tuck in at any minute.
‘I made the thick gravy, Aldo,’ Kossy informed him, bustling from the oven with a beef Wellington on another platter.
‘That looks awesome,’ Ted declared, helping his wife make room on the table.
Seth stole a kiss before pulling a chair out for Lara. ‘I still can’t believe you’re here for Christmas.’
‘Neither can I,’ Lara admitted.
It had been a busy few days since Gerry and Aldo had come to town. Keen to explore and visit all the places Lara had told them about in their across-the-Atlantic communications, she had taken it upon herself to be their guide and it had been such fun being the New York aficionado. Who would have thought it – the girl who had never flown before being the expert on all things NYC.
And Susie was back in England for Christmas, but with David. The prince had needed reassuring that his star stylist was going to be back before New Year’s Eve to attend to his follicles but, after that, David had taken ownership of Lara’s ticket home, so he and his new fiancée could spend some quality time together sharing the news with both their families … and his abuela via Skype.
‘It’s a shame Candy and Dwight couldn’t be here,’ Lara remarked as everyone began passing the bowls of food left and right and filling their plates. She could smell the turkey Ted was carving and it was making her mouth water.
After hearing about Seth’s mission to find his real mother Gerry had asked Lara if she ever thought about her own mother and if she wanted to find out where she was. Lara had thought about it, for maybe thirty seconds, and then told her dad no. Her mum knew exactly where she was, where she had always been, in Appleshaw. And, unlike with Seth, there was no adoption red tape stopping her from making contact.
Gerry also shared that her mum had struggled with motherhood from the outset. Just the sheer being responsible for another person aspect. Then their marriage had fallen apart because of their differences in respect of family and the future. Gerry wanted more children, a home and his business to provide them with a comfortable living. Her mum had wanted lavish nights out and a penthouse apartment in the city. Their opposites that had attracted had finally been what pushed them apart. But he had never closed the door on her keeping contact with Lara, in fact he had tried hard to encourage it … until one day he had a note from someone at her address saying she had moved and left no forwarding address. It was now Lara’s opinion that sometimes, for whatever reason, people just weren’t supposed to be part of your life forever.
‘It’s OK,’ Seth said, handing her the peas. ‘They already had plans with Dwight’s sister. Most people aren’t like us, planning Christmas in the last few days.’
‘That’s true,’ Lara said with a nod. She gave herself five peas. Any more and there wouldn’t be enough room for the better stuff, like the mound of mashed potato she needed.
‘But we’ll see her tomorrow. At the annual shelter basketball game.’
Lara shook her head. ‘Oh no, Dr Mike, you really are getting competitive about this game, aren’t you? Was it you who suggested that street kid storyline in the script?’
‘You’re damn right, it’s competitive,’ Ted replied, putting delicious-looking slivers of meat onto a plate. ‘And don’t think we go easy on the sh
elter guests.’ Again, homeless people were made to sound like boarders at a bed and breakfast. ‘They give it to us hard and they get it back just the same.’
‘I think I might sit that one out,’ Gerry remarked. ‘I’m more of a darts man myself.’
‘No, Gerry,’ Ted said. ‘You have to play. It’s American law.’
‘Is it?’ Aldo asked, all wide-eyed, peas slipping from his lips.
‘Do not listen to my husband, Aldo,’ Kossy told him. ‘He’s insane. Particularly at Christmas.’
‘Lara, five peas?’ Seth remarked, eyeing up her plate.
‘You haven’t seen how many pieces of turkey I’m going to have.’
‘Never been shy of food, my Lara,’ Gerry said fondly. ‘That’s why she can shift hay bales better than most of the lads in the yard.’
‘Not better than me,’ Aldo insisted.
‘Do I smell competition, Aldo?’ Lara asked.
‘I think that’s the sprouts,’ Aldo answered.
‘Christmas music!’ Kossy exclaimed, leaping up from her chair. As she got up she knocked into one of the giant Christmas trees and it started a dangerous stray. The lights flickered, and a few baubles fell to the floor and Ted, turkey fork in one hand, had to reach out and stop it from tumbling into the dinner table.
‘Sorry, Ted,’ Kossy said, leaning in close to the sideboard. ‘Alexa, play Michael Bublé Christmas.’
‘Kossy, come on, there are other people who have sung wonderful Christmas songs.’
‘Cliff Richard’s done a few,’ Gerry remarked.
‘I like the one about the war with the trumpets,’ Aldo stated, gravy on his chin, having already filled his plate with food.
‘Playing songs by Michael Jackson on Kossy’s Spotify,’ the machine answered.
‘No!’ Kossy exclaimed, hands in her hair. ‘Not Michael Jackson! Michael Bublé!’ The opening bars of ‘Thriller’ sounded out.
‘Alexa! Stop!’ Kossy shouted.
‘So,’ Seth said. ‘Before we start eating and we get to the Christmas music.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve an announcement to make.’
