I'll Take New York

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I'll Take New York Page 22

by Miranda Dickinson


  Back in the blandness of his apartment, Jake poured a double whisky and drank it quickly. He was tired and tomorrow’s early start would be a test, but it had been worth it for the experience. The party had been fun and he had surprised himself with how much he had enjoyed it. One of the many new experiences of his New York life. In the dimly lit interior of his home he caught himself wondering what Jess would have thought of him volunteering to work at a children’s party. How different from the person he had been in San Francisco!

  Maybe I’m changing for the better, Jess, he told the frozen image of his ex-wife that sat in a frame on his still-empty bookshelf. And maybe I like the change.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The Comedy Cavern, 7th Avenue, Brooklyn

  ‘… So I said to her, “You mean this isn’t the line for Ellis Island?” …’

  The small audience in the dimly lit comedy bar erupted with laughter and applause as Russ ended his stand-up set.

  ‘You’ve been a great audience and I’ve been Russ O’Docherty. Goodnight!’

  He hopped down from the low stage nodding his appreciation at the audience’s congratulations and bounded over to Bea and Imelda’s table. ‘How was that?’

  ‘Great,’ Bea replied, hugging him. ‘You were so good.’

  ‘The crowd were on fire tonight,’ he grinned, kissing Imelda’s cheek and sitting down. ‘It helps the flow, you know?’

  ‘Let me buy you a drink, Mr Comedy Central,’ Imelda offered.

  ‘That’s kind. A Bud would be great.’ As Imelda headed to the bar, Russ turned to Bea. ‘Thanks for coming tonight.’

  ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for anything. You really are good, hun.’

  ‘And the new material? Because you haven’t heard it before.’

  ‘It’s great. So much slicker than the last time I saw you perform.’

  Russ beamed. ‘Isn’t it? The guys who run the club reckon it’s my best yet.’

  ‘I’d have to agree.’ Bea was proud of her best friend. She didn’t know how he did it: even reading to groups of children at Hudson River Books, while she loved it, brought her out in a stress rash. When she knew how nervous and paranoid Russ was before a gig, the change in his confidence when he was in front of an audience was phenomenal.

  ‘Hey.’ A smiling blonde appeared by their table, smiling at Russ.

  Playing it cool, he turned to look at her. ‘Hi.’

  ‘I loved your set,’ she purred, her body language completely focused on him.

  ‘Thanks,’ Russ replied, clearly flattered by the compliment.

  Bea smiled to herself as the woman handed Russ a business card.

  ‘So – call me. OK?’

  As Russ watched his latest admirer’s waggling behind sauntering away, Bea shook her head. ‘What it is to be a man in demand, eh?’

  Russ shrugged. ‘You know what they say about women and comedians.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ he grinned, inspecting the number on the card, ‘but I’m gonna have fun finding out.’

  Imelda returned with a round of drinks and, after joining Bea in mocking Russ about his comedy groupies, the three friends quickly settled into their usual banter. Bea loved nights like these, having fun with her closest friends. It had now been over a week since she’d last seen Jake – his new practice calling him away from New York sightseeing for the next few weeks – and Bea was keen to redress the balance of time missed with her best friends by spending time with them now.

  From the Comedy Cavern, they went to GiGi’s, a friendly local diner that specialised in serving enormous hamburgers around the clock. Russ set about demolishing two bacon double burgers with spicy pepper jack cheese, his ability to shovel food after a gig still impressive to Bea after years of witnessing it.

  ‘I hear the party was a success,’ Imelda said, trying her best to ignore the loud munching from across the table. ‘One of the kids’ moms came into my store today raving about it.’

  ‘We’ve had three enquiries about parties already.’ Bea knew Bronagh’s party had turned out well, but even she had been surprised by the response following the event. ‘I think we could offer it as a new service. If we did, would you be up for helping dress the bookstore for each one?’

  Imelda grinned as she sipped her iced tea. ‘Always. It was a lot of work, but fun, too. Just say the word and I’m there.’

  ‘We ought to start planning our Christmas campaign,’ Russ said. ‘It’s October next week. I have some ideas already.’

  Where had the year gone? Bea couldn’t believe so much time had passed and how differently her life had turned out from the path she’d expected. When the year began, she had still been with Otis, ignoring his broken promises and listening to his veiled hints that this might be the year he moved their relationship to the next level. But March had arrived and with it the series of events that would lead Bea to call time on their relationship. And then, she had discovered a new friend in Jake … She couldn’t have predicted any of that and yet, as she looked at it now, she felt more contented and confident than ever before. It had been a strange year so far, but a good one: and it wasn’t over yet. What did the next three months hold in store?

  ‘Why don’t we arrange an evening to discuss it?’ she suggested.

  Russ nodded. ‘OK. Come to mine tomorrow evening and I’ll make dinner for us. We can go over all our plans and work it out.’

  The following evening, Bea and Russ closed the shop and walked the five blocks to his apartment. Unlike Bea’s apartment block, which had all the charm and crankiness you would expect in a century-old building, Russ’ home had only been built fifteen years ago: a sleek glass, wood and stone building with open-plan, loft-style apartments that looked out over the fringes of Prospect Park. It was too stark for Bea’s taste, but suited Russ down to the ground.

  While Russ juggled pans in the kitchen, Bea sat on the wide leather corner couch looking over lists of possible ideas to tempt Brooklyn’s residents into Hudson River Books for Christmas. It felt very early to be thinking of the festive period but in retail it was essential to be ahead of the times. Ordinarily they would have begun planning their Christmas campaign at the end of August, but this year Bea and Russ had opted for a more relaxed approach. The introduction of their monthly-changing zones in the bookstore had kept customers coming back and business felt decidedly more stable than in previous years. Bea was pleased with how much they had achieved: Christmas would be the crowning glory of an excellent year’s trading.

  Russ brought in bowls of steaming Thai food and Bea cleared a space between the plans on his teak coffee table for him to put them down.

  ‘This looks great,’ she said, inhaling the sweet spicy aroma of lemongrass, peanut and chilli from the glazed beef and pork dishes.

  ‘Well, I try. I have more rice if you need it.’

  ‘And generous catering, too. Is there no end to your talents?’

  ‘Probably not. I am the great, untapped potential in Brooklyn.’ He handed Bea a pair of chopsticks.

  A thought struck Bea. ‘Talking of untapped potential, have you spoken to Frank about our end-of-year accounts? We should probably check where we are with him before we commit too much money to the Christmas campaign.’

  Russ dismissed this with a wave of his chopsticks. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine: The weekly books have been very healthy so far.’

  Accounts had always been Russ’ domain with the bookstore and he had worked closely with Frank Folds, the long-time keeper of Hudson River Books’ financial affairs. Bea, who found accounts scarier than anything else, was glad to not have the responsibility – another example of how well she and Russ worked. While Russ hated ordering stock, Bea loved dealing with every catalogue, order and delivery. It worked perfectly. But Bea still worried every time end-of-year accounts were due.

  ‘All the same, we should check. I know you think I’m paranoid but everything’s going so well at the moment. I just want to
make sure we’re covered.’

  ‘Relax. I’ll call him tomorrow.’

  ‘We really need it sorted, Russ.’

  ‘I know. And I said, I’ll call him tomorrow. You worry too much.’

  ‘When it comes to the IRS, yes, I do. They aren’t the kind of people you go around upsetting.’

  ‘Leave it to me, OK? I’ll do it. So, Christmas. Thoughts?’

  ‘I think we keep it simple,’ Bea replied. We don’t want anything that will require too much organisation. The store will be busy for most of the month, hopefully, so I was going to suggest we dress the store mid-November and maybe have one or two new things appearing each week till Christmas.’

  ‘I like it. Or …’ his eyes lit up as an idea struck ‘… we could turn the store into a giant advent calendar.’

  This was a typical Russ O’Docherty idea. It sounded brilliant but was bound to entail a lot of work – exactly what neither of them wanted for the busy festive season. ‘How do you propose we do that?’ she asked, careful not to hurt his feelings.

  ‘Chill, Captain Cautious,’ he grinned. ‘We dress the store early, like you say. Then we advertise that there will be something new every day from December 1st through 24th. It can be something small, like free candy or a discount off novels if you buy a coffee. The main thing is we’re offering something. That way, every time people come into HRB there’s something new.’

  Bea considered this. ‘We’d need to draw up a list and have everything ready to go on the first day of December.’

  ‘Naturally. Think about it, Bea: one small change every day will keep customers guessing. We throw in a few larger deals to mix it up a little and people will love it. Trust me, this could work.’

  Persuaded by his enthusiasm, Bea agreed and after they had eaten they compiled a list of advent surprises to integrate into the bookstore’s Christmas schedule. An hour later, Russ made peppermint tea to celebrate a job well done.

  ‘That’s business over – and we are officially bookselling superheroes,’ he proclaimed, raising his mug. ‘So, how’s everything else in your life?’

  Bea felt her shoulders tense. Was this heading towards another Otis lecture? ‘Good, thanks.’

  ‘Oh no. You don’t get off that easily. I need details.’

  ‘Actually, I’m happy. The happiest I’ve felt all year.’

  ‘But there’s something else going on, isn’t there?’

  ‘Russ …’

  ‘It’s a valid question. I’ve been watching you for the last couple of weeks, Bea James. You’ve got something on your mind.’

  How could Russ be so wrapped up in his own worries one minute and blindingly perceptive the next? Bea knew he was right: since the birthday party she hadn’t heard much from Jake, only that he was busy with his new practice and having to work weekends to keep on top of it all. His absence had given her time to think, not least about the last time she had seen him. When they had stood in the office together, Bea could have sworn that a moment passed between them. He’d looked so unbelievably handsome in his costume and she had suddenly found herself wanting to be closer to him … But that was completely out of the question. The Pact stood between them, a safety curtain to prevent any romantic notions that might try to sneak past. Jake was adamant he didn’t want another relationship: and considering how awful his impending divorce sounded from the little he had told her, who could blame him?

  She didn’t need to be battling with this, she had told herself over and over. The happiness and peace of mind she’d discovered since The Pact was entirely due to not thinking of Jake as a potential boyfriend. So why couldn’t she get the image of him gazing down at her in the darkened office out of her mind?

  For a few moments, Bea debated whether to mention Jake to Russ, but decided not to. Nevertheless, she felt the need to address her conflicted feelings. Perhaps, she thought, if she could broach the subject without being specific, Russ might be able to offer insight that would help her without descending into cheap ‘Suit Man’ jibes.

  ‘You’re right,’ she began. ‘I do have a – situation – on my mind.’

  ‘I knew it!’ Russ almost jumped off the sofa in triumph. ‘Spill.’

  Bea took a breath, suddenly shaky. ‘It’s a bit embarrassing, actually. There’s someone I like. He’s a really good friend and I love what we have. But recently, I’ve started to wonder if there could be more.’

  ‘Go on.’ Russ was watching her carefully.

  ‘It can’t happen: I know it can’t. But a part of me wishes it could. Does that sound crazy?’

  Russ shook his head. ‘Not at all. It’s natural to want something you feel you can’t have. Could you – is there any way you could let the guy know?’

  ‘No. The lines of friendship between us are very clearly drawn. And it’s past the point where it could change, I think.’

  ‘So you’ve known this guy for a while?’

  Bea hesitated. If she said how long she had known Jake for, Russ would guess who he was and she would never hear the end of it. Since the birthday party, Russ seemed to have finally accepted that Bea and Jake’s friendship was strictly casual. She hadn’t mentioned him after that, so Russ was none the wiser. Keep it vague, Bea … ‘Yes, I have,’ she replied, aware that the truth was being stretched by the omission.

  ‘And I’m guessing you’re scared you’ll lose this friendship if you admit your feelings?’

  ‘Mm-hmm.’

  Russ moved to the edge of his seat, his voice softer when he spoke. ‘Oh Bea. This happens, sometimes. We begin with the best intentions and life has other ideas.’

  ‘But how are we supposed to move forward if life keeps throwing spanners into our plans?’

  ‘We just – do. This guy, do you think he knows how you feel?’

  Panic tightened Bea’s stomach. ‘I’m not sure. I think he might …’

  Russ didn’t speak for a while, sipping tea as he considered what Bea had said.

  ‘Actually, I hope he doesn’t know,’ Bea added, before Russ could reply. ‘That way I can deal with how I feel without it threatening our friendship.’

  ‘I don’t think it would be threatened, personally. I think, if you’ve laid the foundations of your friendship first, a relationship could be stronger.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I mean, look at your previous relationships: out of all of them how many of your previous boyfriends were you friends with before?’

  Bea thought about it. He had a point: the longest she had known someone before dating them was a couple of weeks with Otis, and even then most of that time had been spent flirting towards the inevitable. ‘None of them.’

  ‘Exactly! Maybe that’s part of the problem. If you had a solid foundation to begin with, it could make all the difference.’

  Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Brilliant. So the reason my relationships have failed in the past is because I didn’t make friends first? That makes me feel a whole lot better.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying, Miss Pity Party. I’m simply suggesting that you could try something different next time you enter a relationship. If you already know somebody, a great deal of guesswork is removed. You know their bad habits and their annoying traits, all because as friends they aren’t out to impress you. When you date somebody you hardly know, all you see is the version of themselves they want you to see. The bad stuff comes later, once you’re committed. And that’s when it becomes hurtful – because you feel as if you’ve been hoodwinked. You don’t get that with a friend.’

  ‘So what should I do?’

  Russ smiled. ‘Keep doing what you’re doing. This guy’s friendship obviously means the world to you. But look for opportunities. My guess is, he’s battling exactly the same dilemma. If he is, you’ll see signs. Then you’ll know what to do.’

  Was what had happened between Bea and Jake before Bronagh’s party a sign? Bea mulled this over for the next few days as she and Russ began to pull together all they needed f
or the bookstore’s Christmas advent campaign. There was no way she would know until she saw Jake again. And that might not be for a while. His most recent text message apologised for another weekend without a New York excursion, the practice commanding all of his time. Bea wondered if his absence might also be necessitated by the ongoing divorce proceedings. If so, she completely understood. At least with her and Otis the only thing to sort out following their split were the boxes of their belongings at each other’s apartments. Dividing up almost a decade of life together, while a court looked on, must be horrendous.

  She replied to Jake’s text wishing him all the best with his demanding schedule, saying she looked forward to seeing him when time next allowed. With nothing more she could do, she turned her attention to her own business.

  Almost a fortnight after the last letter from Grandma Dot, a new parcel arrived. This time, Bea laid the book aside – a copy of Jane Austen’s Persuasion – to read Dot’s letter first. She wanted to know more about Abel Flanagan and Grandma Dot’s secret courtship and try to understand why her grandmother had kept the story to herself for so long.

  Dearest Bea,

  I hope my last letter didn’t shock you. I hope you will understand why I wish to share this with you now. I am merely illustrating my belief that you should never rule out the possibility that you might find love again.

  You will see that the Book Mice have selected Jane Austen’s Persuasion, one of my all-time favourite novels. We think we have time to waste, but life proves we have not …

  Abel Flanagan wanted me to marry him but not until he’d saved enough money to support us. I believed that when he had the means to provide a home for us, my father would see he was a man true to his intentions. Oh, how I wish I hadn’t delayed our happiness!

  Abel finally proposed to me in July 1939. I accepted, of course, but then faced the decision of whether or not to tell my father. I considered elopement – with the worrying events in Germany several of the village girls had run away with their sweethearts, fearing the worst. But I loved my father and had no intention of bringing shame on our family. So I asked Father if I could talk to him and he agreed.

 

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