by Lindsey Kelk
‘No, there is,’ she countered. ‘Only what they don’t tell you is the “it” part stands for millions of dollars. Then you just buy your way out of all of this stress.’
‘So I just need to make millions of dollars,’ I sighed with mock relief. ‘Thank you for figuring that out. Maybe this isn’t the right time to give up work.’
‘Or maybe this book is going to be a huge bestseller and you’ll be able to sit at home, eating bonbons all day, living a life of luxury,’ she said, slapping the pages of my proposal with the back of her hand. ‘You gotta get this written, doll.’
‘You really think it’s good?’ I asked, skimming the words I barely remembered writing.
‘I think it’s fucking awesome,’ she replied. ‘You got a title?’
I took a deep breath in and blew it out through my nose. ‘Not yet. I really want it to be something people get right away, something that lets you know it’s a book about how two girls really love each other. What do you think?’
She pinched together her features, her official thinking face. ‘But it’s not just about the girls,’ she said, running her finger down the pages as she scanned it again. ‘It’s about their lives, their friends, their boyfriends, living in the city. You know, it seems to me like it’s about how much Anna loves New York as much as anything.’
‘You’re right,’ I agreed. ‘But I still have absolutely no idea.’
Jenny looked at me, a strange almost-smile on her face.
‘I got it,’ she said, tapping her finger against the logo on my chest. ‘How about, I Heart New York?’
I looked up with a bright smile on my face. ‘It’s perfect. You think they’ll like it?’
‘I think they’ll love it,’ she replied before pulling a face. ‘I mean, as long as it doesn’t suck. This is just a proposal and you don’t even have enough chapters. It’s a good proposal but still.’
‘Thanks, thank you,’ I said, rolling my eyes. A classic Jenny shit sandwich. ‘You’re the best.’
She stretched her arms over her head as she yawned, both of us resting our backs against the kitchen counter, my head on her shoulder as we stared out the window. From here, I could see the Statue of Liberty, waving hello, the Williamsburg, Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges rising up over the water and the bright orange Staten Island ferry sailing back and forth across the water, like a little bath toy. To the east, I saw the sun’s reach stretching further and further across Brooklyn, tinting everything a primrose yellow and glinting off the fancy new developments downtown. Even the docks looked romantic at sunrise and, having been there once for a secret fashion show party Jenny got us into, I knew full well there was nothing romantic about those docks. But that was how you knew it was true when they said New York was the city that never slept. No one looked this good when they first woke up.
‘You wanna get breakfast?’ Jenny asked. ‘There’s an awesome twenty-four-hour diner around the corner that’s not so bad. I’m freaking starving.’
‘Always,’ I replied, tearing my eyes away from the love of my life and smiling at my best friend. ‘Let’s go.’
Life was rarely simple and relationships never were, I thought to myself as Jenny traded her dressing gown for a bright red blazer and picked up her keys. And the only thing I knew was absolutely true was that I really didn’t know anything. New York was a city that was always changing and growing, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. Just because I didn’t like that new coffee shop on 7th Avenue didn’t mean someone else couldn’t love it. Maybe they’d meet their future husband in there, or it might be where their best friend would tell them they were engaged or maybe they’d even write a bestselling book at one of those tables. The most important thing was to keep the things you loved close and take care of them always. I had the subway and Bloomingdale’s and round-the-clock pizza. I had that guy on the corner of 14th and 1st who performed Taylor Swift songs with sock puppets and always gave me a wink when I dropped a dollar into his hat. I had my home, my health, my job. My family back in England and another family, right here. I had Jenny, I had Alex, I had my Alice.
I had New York.
And it was more than I ever could have wished for.
EPILOGUE
One year later …
‘She lives!’ my dad bellowed from behind the paper at the kitchen table. ‘I thought I was going to have to get you going with the jump leads for a minute. I even brought the car round back.’
‘What you two do in your own time is up to you,’ I replied, sitting down beside him. ‘Please leave me out of it.’
‘Less of that cheek,’ Mum said, clipping me round the back of the head and placing another steaming cup of tea in front of me. It didn’t matter which teabags I took back to New York with me, or how much I paid in the little English shop in the West Village, there was nothing like a proper cup of tea made at home.
‘Right, as soon as you’ve had your breakfast, I want you upstairs, showered and dressed,’ she went on, opening cupboards, pulling out pots and pans, bacon, eggs and seemingly every single other item in the kitchen. ‘What time do we need to be where?’
‘I can’t remember,’ I lied. I knew, I was just too scared to think about it. ‘I’ll check my phone in a bit.’
Dad closed up the paper with a flourish, folding it once, twice, with knife-sharp creases. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. ‘Nervous?’
‘Petrified,’ I replied. ‘Anything exciting going on in the news?’
‘We’re all going to hell in a handbasket,’ he replied jovially. ‘Haven’t you heard?’
‘He only reads it for the telly listings,’ Mum muttered, cracking half a dozen eggs into a sizzling frying pan. Apparently she was feeding the five thousand rather than one very queasy daughter. I wasn’t even hungry.
Wait. I wasn’t hungry. That really was a bad sign.
‘You shouldn’t be nervous,’ Dad said, checking his fingers for newsprint even though I was fairly certain the ink didn’t come off newspapers any more. Or did it? It was that long since I’d picked up a newspaper. Certainly didn’t come off Heat magazine, that much I knew. ‘I’m sure it’s all going to be very simple, very straightforward. It’ll be over before you know it and then you’ll wonder why you made such a fuss, sitting up until all hours and rattling on to yourself.’
‘You heard me?’ I asked, sipping my tea. It was perfect.
‘When you get to my age, you’re up to the loo at least twice in the night,’ he nodded. ‘I didn’t like to disturb you.’
‘She’s disturbed enough already,’ Mum muttered to the eggs. ‘Gets it from your side.’
‘All I’m trying to say is, what’s done is done. The meeting went well enough yesterday, didn’t it?’
I nodded.
‘And you can’t change anything now, can you?’
I shook my head.
‘So relax and enjoy it! What’s the point in getting all worked up? It’s out there now, people will make of it what they will.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, scratching at the faded Dairy Milk logo on my mug. It came with an Easter Egg god only knew how many moons ago but my mother never threw anything away. ‘I think?’
‘Knock knock, Clarks!’
As always, we heard her before we saw her.
‘Here’s my girlfriend!’ Dad leapt up from his seat to welcome Jenny with a giant hug as she blew into the kitchen. ‘Look at you! I don’t know how to feel about this. I’m really quite jealous.’
Jenny grinned, rubbing a hand over her six-month pregnant belly.
‘What could I do, David? I knew Annette would never give up a stud like you.’
‘You only needed to ask, dear,’ Mum said, holding her at arm’s length to get a proper look at her bump. ‘I still don’t think you should be flying but I’m very happy to see you. Get sat down and I’ll make you some chamomile tea.’
‘I would kill for a coffee, Annette.’ Jenny grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me squar
e on the lips. ‘She’s not going to give me coffee, is she?’
‘There’s a Starbucks on the high street,’ I whispered. Mum didn’t approve of Starbucks. Only Costa. No real reason, just Mum. ‘We’ll get you one in a bit.’
‘And where’s that gorgeous man of yours?’ Mum asked as she fished through the cupboards for Jenny’s specially bought tea.
‘I hope you’re talking about me.’
Alex. Alex, Alex, Alex. I leapt out of my seat and bolted across the kitchen.
‘I thought you weren’t getting in until this afternoon,’ I said, covering his face in kisses before carefully unloading his most precious cargo. ‘Hi, hi, hi!’
‘Mummy!’ Alice screamed with joy as I bounced her up onto my hip. My own mummy immediately stopped what she was doing, Jenny bumped immediately into second place by the arrival of her granddaughter, and ran over to snatch her up.
‘There she is,’ Mum cooed, holding her over Dad’s head so he could at least grab hold of a foot. ‘Alex, you should have told us you were coming earlier, we’d have come to get you from the airport.’
‘You didn’t offer to pick me up from the airport,’ Jenny commented, clutching her perfectly fine back as she lowered herself into a kitchen chair.
‘I managed to move a couple of things around and get on the same flight as these guys since you ditched me,’ Alex brushed my hair away from my face and gave me a lazy smile.
‘Don’t say I ditched you!’ I said, incapable of stealing another kiss while my father made forced retching sounds across the table. ‘I had my meeting! And you had your meeting! And you said you would bring her!’
‘I’m joking,’ he said as Mason stumbled through the door, carrying what looked like every suitcase on the plane. Jenny never had been good with the concept of travelling light. ‘We had fun flying with Aunt Jen, didn’t we, Alice?’
Alice maintained a dignified silence.
‘And what a treat it was for me,’ Jenny said, taking a surreptitious sip of my tea. ‘An overnight flight with a toddler. I wish we’d done it before I dropped nearly thirty grand on cooking up this one.’
‘She’s joking,’ Mason walked up behind his wife, pinching her neck in a cross between a massage and a Vulcan death grip. ‘Alice was amazing.’
‘Mason brought noise-cancelling headphones and slept for most of the flight while she screamed all the way through The Avengers,’ Jenny countered. ‘And that shit is three hours long.’
‘She was a little rowdy during the turbulence,’ Alex admitted. But my parents were not listening, and did not care. All that mattered was their precious granddaughter.
‘So,’ Jenny slapped her hand on the table. ‘You ready? You excited? You know what you’re wearing? Come on Angie, I’m dying over here.’
‘Not ready, mostly scared and I have three potential outfits, all of which you’re going to hate,’ I told her. Jenny clapped happily.
‘And that’s why I have an extra suitcase of clothes, just for you,’ she said, waving a hand at her mountain of luggage. ‘You gotta show out tonight, Angie. It’s not every day a girl publishes her first novel.’
‘That is true,’ I agreed. ‘Fuck.’
‘Angela,’ Mum snapped, covering Alice’s ears. ‘Language.’
‘She hasn’t read the book, huh?’ Mason asked quietly.
The book. I’d written a book.
An actual book in actual shops for actual people to read with their actual eyes. Or ears if they went for the audiobook, I wasn’t fussy as long as they read it. I’d spent the last month doing interviews, answering questions and generally not quite believing what was happening. But today was the actual day it came out and every time I thought about it, I wanted to dance and puke at the same time. Kind of reminded me of our Hawaii trip, now that I thought about it.
‘I talked to Delia and she’s going to be at the venue this evening,’ Jenny carried on talking while I stared at the copy of my book I’d picked up from Cooper & Bow UK along with a giant bouquet of flowers during my visit to their offices the morning before. ‘Everything should be set up when we get there so we literally don’t need to do a single thing but show up and be awesome, which, you know, is a given.’
It turned out Erin had been right about firing Jenny (as usual). Determined not to give up, she’d thrown everything she had at her podcast and, within three months, she’d signed to Spencer Media’s podcast network and was doing so well, she’d already interviewed four out of five of the boys from Queer Eye. She even let me sit in the studio during the recordings, cementing our friendship for all eternity.
And tonight we were celebrating the publication of my book as part of the Gloss Magazine Festival, recording a special episode of “Tell Me About It” live. I was finally going to be on the podcast and only one year and two seasons later than promised.
‘Hello, is anyone home? The door is open.’
‘We’re in here,’ I shouted to Louisa, watching as giant man Mason attempted to orient himself in my mother’s chintzy kitchen. It doesn’t matter how many times you open that cupboard door, I thought to myself, you’re not going to find a single protein powder, my friend.
‘Oh, everyone’s arrived,’ Lou said, car keys dangling from her hand. ‘I just dropped Gracie off at school. I was going to see if Angela wanted to pop for a coffee.’
‘I want to pop for a coffee!’ Jenny cried, standing up a lot faster than she’d sat down. Six months pregnant or not, nothing was going to keep that woman from her caffeine fix. ‘Let’s go before Annette chains me to the kitchen sink.’
‘Angela?’ Lou asked, tilting her head for Alex’s kiss on the cheek.
‘I’m OK.’ I shook my head.
‘And still in her PJs,’ my dad pointed out. ‘Alice, can you say hello to Auntie Louisa?’
My little girl concentrated on the vaguely familiar blonde standing in the kitchen doorway.
‘Yes,’ she replied before returning to her very important task of showing my mother her new teeth.
‘Like mother, like daughter,’ Dad smirked. ‘You were a little smartarse too.’
‘David,’ Mum snapped.
‘Yes, I know, I know,’ he said, slapping the newspaper on the table before standing up. ‘Let’s get these suitcases upstairs before I trip over them and break my neck. I’m sure you could use a hand, Mason.’
‘Uh, sure,’ he replied, carefully putting the smallest, lightest suitcase out of the three down in front of my dad. ‘Thanks Mr C.’
‘You want anything from the coffee shop, Angie?’ Jenny asked as she practically dragged Louisa out the door.
‘No, I’m fine,’ I said, eyeing the half-cooked eggs Mum had abandoned on the hob. Good job I really wasn’t hungry. ‘Thank you!’
‘Go wee,’ Alice demanded, turning her attention from her teeth to grabbing at her crotch.
Before I could stand, Mum was sailing off to the downstairs bathroom, Alice grinning as she began to realize just what she had stumbled into. An adoring and willing slave. The front door slammed on Jenny and Louisa, Mason and Dad headed upstairs and Mum and Alice were locked in the loo, leaving just me and Alex in the kitchen.
He settled into the seat next to mine. Even with his hair rumpled from the plane, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, I couldn’t think of a time I’d been happier to see him.
‘Last time we were here together, we almost got married,’ he said, looking around the room. It had barely changed since I was sixteen so I couldn’t imagine it was that different to the last time he was there. ‘What kind of trouble are you planning to get me into this time?’
‘Well, we can’t get married again,’ I waved my wedding ring in his face. ‘And we agreed no baby talk until the new year, so I don’t know. What does that leave us?’
He shrugged off his leather jacket and cracked his neck with a happy groan.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m kind of excited to find out.’
I leaned in for a kiss, ta
king hold of his hand to feel for his wedding ring.
‘Masochist,’ I whispered just before our lips met.
‘You’re the one who wanted to stay at your mom’s instead of at a hotel.’
He had me there.
‘I know you’re stressed about this,’ Alex said, pushing my hair back from my face. I resisted the urge to curl up in his lap and purr. It was already after nine and I had to get this show on the road. ‘But it’s gonna be awesome. You’re excited, right? Because you should be.’
‘I am,’ I replied, smiling. ‘It’s scary but good scary, if that makes sense. I’m more excited now you’re all here.’
‘My wife, the author.’ He brought his face to mine for one more perfect kiss. ‘I’m so fucking proud of you.’
As I kissed him back, I realized it wasn’t a lie. I was excited. About the book, about Alice turning into a toddler terror. I was excited for Jenny and Mason’s baby and her inevitable world domination and I was excited for everything I didn’t even know about yet. When I thought about all things that had happened since I’d walked out my mum’s front door on my way to Louisa’s wedding all those years ago, none of it seemed real. Meeting Jenny, meeting Alex, getting married, having a baby – how many little tiny things had to fall into place for even one of those things to happen? What if Jenny had been in the loo when I checked in at my hotel? What if Alex hadn’t stopped into Manatus for a drink? It could all have been so different. The only thing that had stayed the same was the fact that I’d had no idea what I was doing back then and – being completely honest with myself – I had even less of an idea now.
But that was OK, we had the rest of our lives to figure out what came next.
And I couldn’t wait.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Jesus, this one could go on for a while – do you want to go and get a cup of tea? No? OK, let’s just get started. First things first, without Lynne Drew, there would be no book in your hands today and there is no version of this written thank you that could adequately show my appreciation for all that you’ve done. I owe millions of thank yous to my friends at HarperCollins and we’ll need more pages if I’m going to get everyone but special shout-outs to Martha Ashby, Kate Elton, Charlie Redmayne, Lucy Vanderbilt, Damon Greeney, Eleanor Goymer, Liz Dawson and everyone in sales, marketing, design and production who has worked on, worked with or been forced to endure either this book or any of the others that came before. Thank you to my publishing family around the world, especially Jean Marie Kelly, Leo McDonald and Kimberley Allsop – you have all endured, you are all owed. And of course, a special thanks to Felicity Denham for keeping me in pizza and booze and nice hotels. I’ve never seen anyone handle a Post-It Note quite like you, champ.
