Summer in the City: The perfect feel-good summer romance

by Emma Jackson

  His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at the memory. ‘Yeah, okay. But that’s part of the pressure I think – she’s good at the grand gestures like that.’

  ‘Is a grand gesture vital?’

  ‘It’s supposed to be a momentous occasion isn’t it?’

  ‘Then I hope your account has a healthy balance.’

  He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Shall we go see what they’re like then?’

  Their air conditioning was turned up to the ice-palace setting and there were bright lights shining in the tall glass cases across the floor. The hush and thick grey carpet, which muffled our footsteps, gave it the feel of a library. A polite saleswoman talked to us for a few moments, trying to ascertain whether we needed help and what the budget was, then directed us to an engagement ring display, and left us to fetch complimentary coffee.

  ‘None of these look right,’ Nick lamented after twenty minutes of staring at white gold bands and varying designs of diamonds set into them.

  I could see what he meant. They were very flashy. Beth wasn’t into flashy displays of wealth. She needed something more delicate and sentimental. The image of our mum’s ring came to mind. She’d been buried wearing her wedding ring but the engagement one, we’d kept. It was a twisting vine of gold with small inset diamonds, rather than one large rock.

  I took Nick by the elbow, to get his attention. He stopped chewing his thumbnail and raised his eyebrow at me.

  ‘You should give her Mum’s ring,’ I said softly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mum’s engagement ring. I have it at my place in London. In the safe.’

  His eyes took on a shine that had a lump coming to my own throat, but he cleared his throat and shook his head slightly. ‘But what about you? And don’t make a joke about it not suiting you,’ he forestalled me with quiet ferocity.

  ‘You know I’m never going to need it.’

  He threw another look at the cases and then shook his head again. ‘Okay, we’re done here. Let’s go.’

  I didn’t argue but it wasn’t exactly the kind of attitude that made me think I’d just answered his prayers. We went back outside, and he went over to the nearest hot dog vendor and brought back two enormous hot dogs, dripping onions and relish.

  ‘I got you one because I figured that you would never buy yourself one,’ he told me sharply, holding it out. ‘It has to be done when you’re in New York.’

  I grimaced but took it, trying to push away the memory of Noelle insisting I ate junk food as well because it was an ‘experience’ and ‘fun’. ‘Fine, let’s find somewhere to sit to eat though, otherwise I’m going to have to go back to work with mustard all down my shirt.’

  We found a small paved sitting area down a side road outside an office building and grabbed a free bench. I took a mouthful of hot dog, wondering what had got into him. I loved him but he could be such a moody git sometimes.

  ‘So, are you going to tell me about it?’

  ‘About what?’ I said, my voice sticky. The hot dog was simultaneously tangy and salty, the bun clinging to the brine of the dog and making it a mouthful to chew.

  ‘About what’s happened with you and Noelle. I’ve been holding off asking because you’ve obviously been avoiding the subject and you’ve got enough on your plate but…it’s no good. We’ve got to talk about this before I go back home.’

  I licked ketchup off my thumb and debated playing dumb, but he probably knew everything from Beth if Noelle had spoken to her. The temptation to find out how she was through them was nearly crippling. ‘I shouldn’t have got involved with her. I made a mistake. I’ve got no excuse.’

  ‘You treated her badly?’

  I sighed. ‘That’s for her to answer rather than me. I don’t think I did. You know I don’t cheat on women. I never lied to her – no more than I lied to myself anyway. My mistake was entertaining the idea that anything could come of it at all.’

  ‘You led her on?’ He frowned.

  ‘No. We both knew it would end sooner or later.’ God, it was so easy to say the words as though they didn’t pain me.

  Nick lowered his hot dog and looked at me closely. He’d always had this way of looking utterly guileless that I’d envied. Even when I was being honest somehow I was managing to treat people badly. We were wired so differently. ‘This was different for you though, to the other relationships you’ve had?’

  I concentrated my attention on the hot dog, as though trying to find the best angle to take a bite. It had been different. To me. But… ‘Not technically.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We want different things. That’s the normal reason isn’t it? She wants to find a long-term partner and I can’t be that.’

  ‘But why? Why couldn’t you be her long-term partner? Potentially? Why do you know for certain you’ll never have someone to offer Mum’s ring to? I always figured you never found anyone who mattered enough to make you find the space for them in your life, but it’s not that is it? You give up before you’ve even started like it’s inevitable and I don’t understand.’

  Anger and frustration bubbled up inside me. ‘I’m exactly like my dad, Nick. I’m like a carbon copy of him at this age. I look like him; I act like him. Maybe you don’t see it because you’re my brother and you love me, but I’m not built for relationships. If I get involved with someone, they’re going to end up hurt and hating me. I can’t risk walking out on a child the way he did. Twice. At some point, whatever feelings I have, I’d end up doing it because I couldn’t take the responsibility. It’s not happening. I won’t do it.’

  ‘That’s what you think of yourself? That you wouldn’t be a good husband or father because your dad wasn’t?’ Nick nudged his glasses back up his nose using his knuckle. ‘That’s such utter bullshit, Stephen. You’ve always been responsible and looked after us. You grew up too quick and were Mum’s rock, even as a teenager. You’re loyal and protective to a fault. Literally, to a fault because we all know the crap you pulled at Christmas was because you were worried for me. Responsibility doesn’t scare you, not even slightly, so what in the world makes you think you would walk out on a wife and child if you were to have a family?’

  I opened my mouth to object, but I couldn’t find anything I could actually argue with. He wasn’t even done.

  ‘You need to do us all a massive favour, Stephen, and stop being a moron. Take a long hard look at yourself. D’you know the reason I haven’t asked you what you’re going to do about your sister?’

  I shook my head mutely because I was sure he was going to tell me.

  ‘Because I know you’re going to contact her. She’s your blood and you’re going to need to know she’s okay. I’m right, aren’t I?’

  ‘Maybe.’ I dumped the rest of my hot dog in the bin next to me and stood up.

  ‘Don’t walk off in a huff—’

  ‘I’m not. I’ve got to get back to work,’ I protested.

  He stood up and looked me dead in the eye. I missed the days when he was a lot shorter than me. ‘I’m just telling you this because I can’t stand watching you treat yourself like this anymore. You’re punishing yourself for something that isn’t even true. Keep the ring, Stephen. I’ll find something for Beth that suits her, and you should try to find someone worthy of that ring, someone who can see you’re a good man—’ he grinned ‘—even though you act like a prick sometimes.’

  ‘You’re an annoying little snot, Nicholas,’ I told him with a laugh.

  ‘I’m only annoying because I’m right.’

  I grimaced and rubbed the back of my neck. It was sticky from the heat of the sun beating down on us. Even if he was right. Even if I tried my best to believe him, what did it matter? It was too late with Noelle. She’d ticked the boxes marked “waste of time” and “commitment-phobic” and “man who will use and hurt me” and then watched me walk out and prove her right.

  Every summer there is a production of a Shakespeare play at the amphitheatre
in Central Park. What’s so wonderful about it, is that’s it’s free and for a large family that means that if you’re willing to queue for the first-come-first-serve tickets you’ll get a rare opportunity to enjoy some live theatre all together. The whole Kingston clan – barring Quinn who was going to look after little Brigid this time around – were going as usual and Tim had asked if I wanted to go to Wafels & Dinges in the East Village for some brunch beforehand.

  Since food was definitely the best way to make myself feel better, I agreed and ordered the De Verdekke for optimum comfort food bingeing, alongside a chocolate sundae. We squeezed into a table at the end of slated bench inside the little café and I attacked my food. If I ate nothing but chocolate, ice-cream and chips for the next couple of weeks, not only would I enjoy it, but I also knew Stephen would have highly disapproved.

  ‘So, you’re all done with your novel now?’ Tim asked as he cut through the mass of whipped cream on top of his waffle.

  ‘Until the next round of edits,’ I mumbled around a mouthful of ice-cream and waffle.

  ‘What are your plans for the rest of the summer then?’ Tim kept checking his phone in a distracted way and I wondered what was going on with him.

  ‘I’ve got to get ready for my September release.’

  ‘Good, good.’ His phone started ringing and his distracted expression transformed into a grin. He sucked a bit of caramel sauce off his thumb. ‘Sorry, Noelle, I just gotta nip outside and take this. You’ll be okay?’

  ‘Sure.’ It was like talking to a fire hydrant anyway. He totally wasn’t listening to a thing I said. I watched him hurry outside, then turned my attention back to my top waffle, stabbing it with my fork and watching the vanilla ice-cream splurge out the sides. I didn’t want to eat it already and that annoyed me as much as everything else. I swirled my fork in the melting ice-cream and a shadow fell over the table as Tim came to sit back down. ‘That was – oh.’

  It wasn’t Tim. A man about my age with a closely shaved head and a neat brown beard was in my brother’s seat. ‘Sorry, bud, someone’s sitting there.’

  ‘Hi, I’m Riley.’ He held his hand out. ‘I work with Tim.’

  ‘Oh, hi. He’s just popped outside…’ I shifted on my seat and didn’t shake his hand. This was weird.

  ‘I know. He arranged for us to meet. The blind date?’

  What. The. Hell.

  I was going to kill Tim.

  I dropped my cutlery and swivelled to look out the window. Tim was still outside, peering in to see how his little stunt was coming off. I stood up. ‘Sorry, Riley. It’s nothing personal. I just gotta go talk to my brother.’

  When I stepped out on the sidewalk Tim was already backing away, hands held up, a half-smile on his face. I grabbed him by the ear, hard, and dragged him away from the window to the mouth of the alley down the side.

  ‘Ouch, Noelle, cut it out.’

  ‘What do you think you are playing at?’ I released him with a push.

  He rubbed at his ear, looking at me all wounded. That puppy-dog expression hadn’t worked for a long time. ‘Trying to help you meet someone.’

  ‘This isn’t help, Tim. It’s interference.’ I swallowed and crossed my arms over my chest. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to pull this crap. I was already a walking bag of frustration barely holding it together, and he’d just given me an outlet to focus it on. My voice was hot with fury: ‘How dare you spring a date on me.’

  ‘It was just an introduction—’

  ‘You got me here on false pretences and then sent in a strange man to eat with me.’

  ‘He’s not strange. He’s Riley. Is this because you haven’t vetted him with your questions? You can go in and ask him them now.’ He rolled his eyes.

  That was about right wasn’t it? Silly old Noelle and her dysfunctional dating habits.

  ‘It is not about stupid questions.’ I pushed my hair back off my face and neck. Suddenly I was feeling hot and my stomach was churning. ‘This isn’t a joke. It might be amusing for you and everyone else in our family to have a good laugh at me and my disastrous love life, but it hurts, Tim.’ I took a ragged breath. ‘It hurts to keep putting myself out there and getting rejected and treated like crap. The least you can do is let me decide when I want to risk it.’

  Tim’s face fell. ‘Noelle. I never realised…we all just figured you weren’t that bothered. You know, you’re always off, doing your writing and going on dates like err…who’s that one in the series? With all the curly hair?’

  ‘You mean Sex and the City? Jesus Christ.’ I covered my face with my hand and shook my head. ‘I’m a real person, with real feelings and I just want to find someone who loves me,’ I confessed into the darkness of my palm.

  I heard Tim’s feet shuffling and then he was hugging me.

  ‘Noelley. You have loads of people who love you.’

  ‘It’s not the same.’ My breathing hitched. ‘You know it isn’t. I want what you and Dee have. Lucy and Quinn. Mom and Dad. I just want that.’

  He squeezed me. ‘I’m sorry. We never meant to upset you.’

  ‘I know. But it needs to stop. I can’t…’ I broke off as a sob choked me. The tears had been threatening for days. I shook with them as my pain-in-the-ass brother held me.

  ‘What happened to that Stephen guy?’ he asked, when I started to quieten down. ‘Is he the reason you’re so upset?’

  ‘I told you, he was just a friend,’ I lied, pushing back and wiping my cheeks.

  Tim cocked his head at me and sighed. ‘Your family are a bunch of idiots, but we’re not blind. We could all see you liked him. Did he do something? Do I need to gather the posse and go kick some British butt?’

  I laughed at the thought of my ridiculous brothers banding together to avenge me, and then I pictured Stephen’s face and the laughter died. ‘No. He didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Oh. It’s a shame it didn’t work out then. We liked him the best out of all the guys you’ve brought him to meet us.’

  ‘I know.’ My face crumpled. ‘I liked him the best too.’ I started crying again and Tim gave me another hug.

  ‘Oh, big sis. Have you tried everything? He definitely liked you too. You’re a genius at working things out; you can’t figure it out with him?’

  ‘It’s not that easy is it?’ I blew my nose on a napkin he handed me. ‘You better go apologise to Riley.’

  ‘Oh, whoops, yeah.’ He pulled a face and made me laugh again.

  ‘I don’t feel like going to the theatre this afternoon.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll break it to the others. Just, don’t go hiding away from us yeah? I’ll tell them all to lay off.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I bit my lip on pointing out he was the worst offender anyway.

  We went in separate directions and I walked home. The crying had helped some, but my frustration was still there. Sometimes these things hurt because it felt like a failure, and sometimes they hurt because you’d found someone special and lost them. After talking to Beth and Tim, I was pretty certain it was the latter and I had no idea how to fix it. Stephen was the one who called time on us, even if I didn’t give him any reason not to…

  I took a shower to wash off how sticky I’d got from the heat outside and the crying and then I decided to try and tidy up. I really had become a slob recently.

  After cleaning up all the dishes and clothes, I grabbed a document box to file away my notes and paperwork for Book 8. The document wallet with my character profiles was on the sofa and there were two loose sheets on the arm. I gathered them up, ready to put them away and remembered that these were what Stephen had been holding when I came back in from getting his soup the other night. One was the profile I’d put together on his dad and the other was for the character of James…

  Oh crap. This was what he’d read while I was out of the apartment. This profile of a womaniser that read like all the worst things he thought about himself. I hadn’t put James’s name at the top and it had been sitting the
re with the one about his dad… He thought this was what I thought of him?

  And then I’d confirmed it as he was breaking up with me. I sat down heavily on my sofa. Crap. That was one huge pile of negative reinforcement. I squeezed my eyes shut thinking over what he’d said. I’d got hung up on the phrase ‘stick it out’ and not the fact that he said he’d been trying.

  Had he been trying to be more than he’d ever given himself credit for? It had certainly felt like it, even if he’d said he couldn’t make me promises. But when you said that to someone, usually it was because you didn’t want to disappoint them. You were going to try but you weren’t sure if you’d succeed, and wasn’t that the same in every relationship?

  But now I’d let both his fear and mine implode on us. He thought I had no better opinion of him than a deplorable character in my novel. And he’d spent most of his life thinking he was just like Trevor because people said he looked just like him and was a charmer. How did I convince him that I knew he was more than that? How could anything I say break down that mental block?

  If I called him up and just told him that the profile wasn’t him, why would he believe it after what I’d already said to his face? Why would he even answer his cell phone when he saw my number pop up?

  ‘Show don’t tell’ was a common mantra for writers. Perhaps the thing I had to do was exactly that. I needed something that would prove to him that the character profile was not of him but of James and explain the mistakes I thought we’d made. I felt a little shaky about the idea of putting myself out there to be rejected again but it was like I said to Tim, it was my choice when to risk my heart, and I wanted to take that risk for Stephen.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nick flew back to England at the weekend and Georgina was back in the office on Monday. As soon as I saw her stride in on her high heels, coffee in hand, I knew I had to deal with the fallout from the yacht – and with the uncomfortable position she’d put me in.

  I slipped my phone in my pocket on record and checked on who was in the office. Most of the day-trader team were already there at 8am as usual.