One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story)

by Mandy Baggot

‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘And you won’t speak at the fundraiser because you’re afraid you might cry,’ Angel said bluntly.

  Her words almost stole the breath from him. Children had no filter. They were truth tellers. He nodded his head. ‘Something like that.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But, after these last few days of spending time with your mom and our visit to the ice cream store my stomach is still bursting from, I’ve decided that I do want to speak.’ He sighed. ‘I owe it to a lot of people to talk about how a sudden death has affected the life of my family and the people around me and how we can try to live with it.’

  He knew Hayley hadn't told Angel about the heart condition. Looking at her now, so cute in her cat pyjamas, her hair tied in bunches, he couldn’t imagine wanting her to know anything that might break her heart.

  Angel put her hand over his. ‘Yes, you do. And I can help you.’

  He smiled. ‘I was hoping you were going to say that.’

  ‘But I have a condition,’ Angel said, tilting her head so her pigtails fell to one side.

  ‘How did I not guess that?’

  ‘You have to promise to dance with my mum at the party.’ Angel wore a deadpan expression. ‘Proper dancing not just stepping from side to side. She likes Maroon 5.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that, although I think it’s only the lead singer she’s really interested in.’

  ‘Do you have any tattoos? Adam Levine has loads!’

  ‘Not yet. But it could be a look for the future.’ He smiled. ‘So … dancing. I guess, if that’s the price for your help then I can do that.’

  ‘Really?!’ Angel’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Did you think I was going to say no? I’m desperate here, Angel. And dancing with your mom is going to be fun.’

  ‘You haven’t seen her dance,’ Angel said, laughing. ‘OK, what do you need?’

  ‘I need to see that logo and the new slogan.’

  ‘You know it’s top secret, right?’

  ‘I promise I won’t show another soul.’

  Angel nodded then and reached for her sketch pad. As Oliver reached out for it she held on tight, as if she wasn’t ready to let go. ‘Mum said you helped to find my dad.’

  Oliver swallowed. He hadn’t been prepared for that and a tingling sensation started to creep over him. He finally nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’

  Angel put down the pad and threw her arms around Oliver’s neck. She was clinging on so tight he almost couldn’t breathe.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  Tears pricked his eyes at her show of affection and he hugged her close. ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied.

  * * *

  ‘I thought you’d got lost.’ Hayley patted the orange sequinned cushion next to her on the chenille sofa as Oliver came back into the living room. ‘You didn’t read that book again, did you?’

  ‘No, but she did show me her special dictionary.’ Oliver sat down.

  ‘I swear I am going to burn that thing.’

  He smiled. ‘She’s one bright kid.’

  ‘Yes she is,’ Hayley replied, pride in her tone. ‘So, what did you talk about?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘I hate secrets!’

  ‘And apparently, you have a mustard allergy.’

  ‘It isn’t an allergy, it’s an intolerance and I hate intolerances so I ignore it. God, what else has she told you?’

  ‘You once lost your shoe on Brighton beach and you were chased by bees and donkeys on the very same day when you went for a picnic.’

  ‘That’s the very last time I leave you two alone. Ever.’

  Oliver laughed and Hayley smiled at the way his body reacted to it. After the day he’d had it was nice to see him looking a little more relaxed. But there was an elephant in the room, prodding her hard with its tusks.

  ‘When will you find out?’

  That had killed the laughter. She swallowed, regretful at her timing, but it had been on her mind all day. She knew her sentence needed no further explanation as she saw Oliver fall still.

  ‘It’s supposed to take weeks.’ He swallowed. ‘I paid to get it back in twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Hayley said, the word dying on her breath.

  ‘Yeah, tomorrow’s a big day for us all.’ He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

  ‘The fundraiser is nothing compared to you getting news that could change your life,’ Hayley said. This was happening. And it was all happening tomorrow. Now the answer was so close it was terrifying her. She cared about him so much, more than she had cared about anyone. And knowing that, knowing how fast and hard she’d fallen only made it worse.

  He shook his head, his fingers smoothing through her hair. ‘That isn’t true. Most of the people there tomorrow have all had their lives changed. They get out of bed every morning and there’s a giant hole in their hearts and their homes. We all get news that’s going to change our life at some time.’ He kissed her head. ‘Bet it was life-changing when you found out you were having Angel.’

  ‘Are you kidding?! I passed out in the doctor’s surgery and ate a whole bag of custard doughnuts.’

  ‘My point is proven.’

  ‘I’m still not going to be able to concentrate on food and décor and the trumpeter’s issue with the spotlights though,’ Hayley stated.

  ‘Yes you are, because I don’t want to see you tomorrow.’

  ‘What?’ She sat up straight, looking at him in shock.

  ‘I want you to focus on the fundraiser. You and my mom have worked so hard to make this night a success. All the tickets have been sold, it’s going to be the best and most profitable night the foundation has had. Tony has a date … and I’m going to be there.’

  She couldn’t help the breath leaving her. ‘You’re coming.’

  ‘How could I not? Angel says you have a table magician.’

  ‘She hated that idea.’

  ‘Well, I love it and so will the mayor and the police commissioner.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘So you have to promise me, no calling, no messaging, no thinking about anything but the fundraiser.’

  Hayley screwed up her face. There was no way she was going to be able to do it. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Promise me, Lois.’

  She looked into his eyes and saw the need for her to give him this. Smothering him when he didn’t want it wasn’t going to change the outcome of the result. She just had to hope and pray for good news and let him bring it to her when he was ready.

  ‘Arrrrgh, I’m going to say this really quickly before I change my mind.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I promise.’

  As the two words left her lips, his mouth was on hers, kissing an insistent path across her jawline and slipping down her neck. She giggled as his mouth touched a ticklish spot.

  ‘So,’ he whispered. ‘You know how you like a magician?’

  ‘Yes, Clark.’

  He raised his head, his eyes dark and full of longing. ‘How about I make your clothes disappear?’

  ‘Why, Mr Drummond, is that a magic wand in your pants or are you just pleased to see me?’

  60

  The McArthur Foundation Fundraiser – The Crystalline Hotel, Manhattan

  Hayley looked at her watch. There were less than thirty minutes before the doors would open and the very first guests would start to come into the room. She held her breath, looking at the layout in front of her. The tables were heart-shaped and Cynthia had mixed up attendees so everyone would be sitting with someone they weren’t overly familiar with. The table cloths were turquoise, the plates bright white, the tableware shining silver and the glasses all polished so you could see your reflection in them. White and turquoise orchids stood in glass vases in the centre of each table together with platinum, gold and turquoise balloons. Turquoise and platinum drapes hung across the windows with beaded butterfly decorations in the middle of each one. The pastel globes across the stage were lit up, shadows of butterflie
s fluttering inside every piece. It was everything she had wanted and so much more.

  ‘It looks wonderful, Hayley,’ Cynthia said, standing at her shoulder.

  ‘You got the balloons I wanted.’ She turned to face her. ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘Ah well, the Drummond name still carries a little weight around this city,’ Cynthia answered, smiling.

  Hayley checked her watch again. ‘Have you heard from Oliver?’

  Cynthia shook her head. ‘He said the same to me as he told me he said to you.’

  ‘This is so frustrating. I just want to know.’

  ‘I know.’ Cynthia put an arm around her shoulders. ‘But let’s look at it this way. The worst outcome is nothing changes.’

  That was true but she was praying for something else. A miracle at Christmas. Or perhaps she’d had her fair share of those already with Angel and Michel. Earlier she’d had a phone conversation with Rita she thought she’d never have. She had cried, her mother had cried and both of them had said things to each other they’d left unsaid for far too long. There had been a full on thawing over tissues on both sides of the Atlantic and whether it was just Rita reading her diary or perhaps Neville from the bowls club softening her, Hayley was glad.

  ‘The shrimp is lovely,’ Angel said, arriving next to them.

  ‘I can see that. You’ve got half of it over your face. Come here,’ Hayley said, licking her fingers.

  ‘Oh no, no, no. Not mum spit!’ Angel screamed, skidding away.

  ‘I’ll get a wipe,’ Hayley said, about to head across the room to where she’d left her bag.

  ‘Hayley, wait. I can clean Angel up,’ Cynthia said. ‘You need to change into this.’ She took a couple of steps towards a package on the plinth at the side of the stage. Hayley watched as she brought the box over to her.

  ‘It’s a clown costume, isn’t it?’ Angel folded her arms across her chest. ‘I told you clowns were a bad idea.’

  ‘It’s from Oliver,’ Cynthia said, passing it over.

  Hayley swallowed. She knew what this was before she even removed the paper. ‘It’s an Emo Taragucci, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it?’ Angel asked, eyes ballooning.

  ‘I think you ought to take it to the restroom and try it on,’ Cynthia encouraged.

  ‘I can’t wait to see it!’ Angel exclaimed.

  ‘Hold up there a second, Miss Shrimp Face, we have wiping to do,’ Cynthia said, taking hold of Angel’s hand.

  * * *

  Hayley smoothed her hand over the light silk as delicate as a feather. The black fabric, bright pink Japanese blossom falling effortlessly over every inch, was like it had been created just for her. She’d never dreamed she would ever own an Emo Taragucci design. The dress cost thousands of pounds but, what made it all the more special, was Oliver knowing which one had been her favourite. He had chosen so perfectly.

  She was at the doors to the ballroom waiting for the glitterati of New York to arrive. Through the glass, Hayley could see the snow was still falling, the sky an inky blue, breath from the mouths of the doormen visible in the night air. A woman entered.

  ‘This is it,’ Cynthia said through gritted teeth. ‘This is Madeline Fisher from the foundation. She’ll be the one inspecting our party favours.’ Cynthia beamed a smile. ‘Madeline! Welcome, welcome! You look wonderful.’

  Hayley swallowed, her mouth dry. She checked her watch again. She’d promised not to think about Oliver but it had been on her mind from the minute she woke up. By now he had to know the outcome of the test results. Would he still come tonight? What if he was home right now, on his own, with the truth no one wanted?

  ‘Madeline, this is Hayley Walker. She’s the event planner I’ve been working with to coordinate the fundraiser,’ Cynthia introduced.

  Hayley stretched out her hand. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’

  ‘You’re English,’ Madeline noted, shaking her hand.

  ‘Yes, but don’t hold it against me.’ Hayley laughed, then shut her mouth up as Madeline failed to react.

  ‘I heard about poor Aimee. Fancy breaking her foot taking the trash out. I mean doesn’t she pay someone to take the trash out?’ Madeline asked, her attention back with Cynthia.

  ‘I’m afraid the gossips are a little off, Madeline. She’s actually got glandular fever. The poor dear can barely whisper,’ Cynthia responded.

  Hayley spotted Angel handing out goody bags to guests.

  ‘Excuse me one moment,’ Hayley said, heading towards her daughter.

  She picked up a bag and held it out to a guest as she walked past the table. ‘I need you to cover me,’ Hayley said to Angel, her smile fixed.

  ‘What d’you mean? Where are you going?’ Angel curtseyed at a lady in an orange ball gown. ‘Welcome to the McArthur Foundation Christmas fundraiser. I hope you enjoy the party bag …’

  ‘Favours. Party favours,’ Hayley jumped in. She turned to Angel. ‘It’s not a party bag. Party bags are full of Haribos and cheap plastic crap mums feel they have to buy. There’s gift vouchers and jewellery in these. And that’s not the kind you can eat.’

  ‘Is there?’ Angel asked, her eyes dropping into the bag she was holding.

  ‘I need to call Oliver.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t. He told me you’re not allowed to call him because he’s busy with work.’

  Her daughter had no idea about the severity of this situation. She should be handling it better. She checked her watch again. ‘It’s almost half past seven.’

  ‘And he’s going to be here any minute.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because he made me a promise and if he doesn’t keep it I have a lifetime’s free golden chicories on Rabbit Nation.’

  Hayley palmed her face. ‘The suspense is killing me.’

  ‘I heard one of the waitresses say the menu from every corner of the world is killing the chef. You’re just going to have to be patient, Mum.’ Angel smiled at another guest. ‘Welcome to the McArthur Foundation Christmas fundraiser.’

  * * *

  Outside the Crystalline Hotel, Manhattan

  This was, without any doubt, the hardest thing Oliver had ever done. His hands were shaking as he looked at the piece of paper in his hands. So much was going to change and it scared him.

  The car stopped outside the Crystalline Hotel and he looked to the front doors, the two Christmas trees at the entrance, lit up in platinum and turquoise. He checked his watch. It was edging towards nine. Everyone would have eaten, just like he planned. Before he said anything to his mother or Hayley, he wanted to address the room, like he should have done every year since Ben died.

  The car door opened and the driver was there waiting for him to disembark. He should move now, get out, put one foot in front of the other through the snow. His legs were shaking so much he didn’t know whether he was going to be able to do it. He needed to man up. Own this moment more than he’d ever owned anything before.

  He stepped out onto the white sidewalk and slipped the piece of paper into his coat pocket.

  61

  The McArthur Foundation Fundraiser – The Crystalline Hotel, Manhattan

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you one and all for attending this year’s McArthur Foundation fundraiser. It’s a pleasure to see so many faces, previous attendees and newcomers, here tonight to enjoy this fabulous event and celebrate all the good work the foundation has undertaken this year,’ Cynthia said.

  The crowd all clapped their hands again and Oliver could feel the sweat on his palms as he stood in the wings. He was more terrified about this than he’d been about his first full meeting with the board of Drummond Global. He’d thrown up in the men’s room before that encounter. That was another reason he hadn’t got here for the meal, he just wouldn’t have been able to stomach it.

  ‘It’s five years since we lost my eldest son, Ben, and there isn’t one day that passes where he’s not thought of. He left a huge dent in our family but tonight’s McAr
thur Foundation fundraiser isn’t about dwelling on our pain and suffering …’ Cynthia paused. ‘Our loss … It’s about coming to terms with their passing and celebrating the lives of our loved ones …’ A murmur grew from the audience and his mother stopped speaking. She looked to her left and saw him stepping out onto the stage. People in the audience started to clap their hands and he willed his legs to keep holding him up. There were tears in Cynthia’s eyes as he met her, leaning to kiss her cheek. So many questions were written in her expression. He couldn’t answer them yet. The applause died down and, as he pressed the piece of paper to the stand, Cynthia left. He was entirely on his own.

  ‘Good evening everyone. I’m Oliver Drummond, the CEO of Drummond Global.’ He paused. ‘Tonight, just Oliver.’ He put his hands to the lectern. ‘Firstly, I want to apologise for interrupting my mother just then. I think I scared her half to death … because I was the very last person she was expecting on stage tonight.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Because … since my mother asked me to speak at this event I’ve been thinking of every excuse I can to get out of it.’

  There were a few rumbles of discontent and a couple of laughs before he carried on.

  ‘For me, heading up a billion-dollar corporation and dealing with difficult international negotiations on a daily basis is a piece of cake compared to standing here in front of you good people and telling you what this foundation means to me.’

  He took a breath, looking out into the audience. He needed to find Hayley. He wanted to know she was listening to this.

  ‘For a very long time I despised this organisation and I hated what it stood for. Everyone connected with it was still grieving, wallowing in death and illness and making plans to die. I have to say that scared the crap out of me. Why would I want to tell everyone about my feelings? Why would I want to drag up memories of my brother when all it does is rip my heart out?’ He paused. ‘For so many years I wanted to forget him. I wanted to forget his death, pretend it never happened, because it tainted everything. It crushed my mother, it practically killed my father and it turned me into some sort of control freak in an ivory tower so high Rapunzel would have needed hair extensions to get out of it.’