First We Take Manhattan

by Colette Caddle

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ Krystie said, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. ‘I had a fit.’

  ‘Oh, my God. Are you okay?’ Sharon was immediately all concern.

  ‘Fine. I was more embarrassed than anything else but he was cool.’

  ‘He seems cool.’ Sharon smiled. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t fancy him. He’s gorgeous and it’s obvious he fancies you.’

  ‘Is it?’ Krystie grinned.

  ‘It is.’ Sharon sighed. ‘A knight in shining armour and in a fancy car. I’d be quite happy to let him take care of me.’

  Krystie looked at her wistful expression and hugged her. ‘Your knight’s out there somewhere.’

  Sharon hugged her back. ‘Go to bed, you look tired. I’ll bring you some hot chocolate and a hot-water bottle.’

  ‘You are the bestest friend a girl could have, know that?’

  Sharon laughed. ‘You better believe it.’

  When she was settled in bed with her hot drink, Krystie felt warm inside as well as out. Max had been so wonderful this evening. He had taken control, kept calm, looked after her and, though she felt embarrassed that he’d witnessed her having a fit, he’d soon made her feel completely at ease. Although she still couldn’t remember the actual seizure – she never could – she remembered how gentle and reassuring he’d been before-hand. On impulse she picked up her phone and sent him a text: ‘Thank you for being so great tonight, Max.’

  She hesitated for a moment then added an ‘x’ and pressed send.

  A moment later his reply came back making her laugh: ‘You should be asleep!! Neil Young concert booked. Sinéad will be thrilled. Tnx for the idea. xx ☺’.

  She typed back: ‘Great!’

  His reply was instant: ‘Sleep! x.’

  And, smiling, she switched off the phone and settled down for the night.

  Krystie was brushing her hair the next morning when her phone beeped. She smiled when she saw it was from Max: ‘Hope you had a good night. See you later. x.’

  She frowned, wondering what that meant. He must be just dropping by to see Sinéad. Looking at her watch, she realised that she needed to hurry. Her boss had announced that they had a lot to talk about and could she be in for eight thirty. Perhaps Max was joining them. She put on a cream polo-neck over jeans, added a suede belt and tugged on her cowboy boots. After pulling her plaid cap down low over one eye she shrugged into her leather jacket, grabbed her bag and legged it for the train.

  She only just made it to the station in time to slip between the doors of the last carriage. Since she’d woken she’d been thinking about the fit and wondering what had brought it on. She got them so rarely that when she did she tried to evaluate what had triggered it and make damn sure to avoid it in the future. Max had been wonderful, but he was still her boss to an extent and she needed to show both him and Sinéad that she was a good bet and a safe one, and that they could rely on her. She would phone her old GP this morning and arrange an appointment as soon as possible. He would organise a brain scan and possibly change her medication, though in her heart she knew that it wasn’t necessary. She was pretty sure that the combination of working long hours, not eating regularly and drinking more than usual was the reason. That and the fact that she was completely hyper about her new job and seriously stressed about the mystery surrounding Sheila and the part she’d played in it. It would be a bloody miracle if she hadn’t had an attack. She had to calm down and take care of herself. Now that she had the job of her dreams she couldn’t and wouldn’t risk losing it.

  ‘Someone is very quiet today,’ Ellen remarked as Krystie stood in the queue at the counter lost in thought. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Krystie said brightly, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She was glad the other woman was too busy at the coffee machine to notice. ‘Make it a weak one, Ellen.’

  ‘Weak? Now you really have me worried.’

  ‘I’ve decided it’s time to get healthy. I might even go jogging with you and Rory.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ellen turned to look at her.

  Krystie rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Duh! In your dreams. I’m right on the beach and I keep promising myself that I’ll go for early-morning walks, but the bed is just too comfortable.’

  ‘Get a dog,’ Rory said, coming out of the kitchen with two plates of bacon and eggs.

  ‘God, that looks good,’ Krystie said, her mouth watering.

  ‘Sit down and I’ll make you some.’

  She checked her watch. ‘No time. I’ve a meeting in ten minutes and, anyway, I’ve already had a bowl of porridge.’

  Ellen brought her coffee. ‘You really are on a health kick.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone but I actually love the stuff.’ Krystie grinned. ‘Later!’

  ‘Morning, Sinéad, cold out there, isn’t— Oh my God.’ Krystie pulled up short and stared around her. The floor was littered with designs and Sinéad sat cross-legged in the middle of them with her sketch pad, music blaring. She dropped her bag and bent down to pick up the pages nearest to her and then moved slowly around the room picking up one page after another, studying them in silence.

  Sinéad, who hadn’t opened her mouth, watched her and waited, chewing anxiously on her pencil. Krystie went to turn down the music before facing her boss. ‘These are amazing.’

  ‘Really? Don’t just say that because I pay your wages,’ Sinéad warned.

  ‘I mean it, Sinéad,’ Krystie said, fervently. ‘They’re giving me goosebumps. They’re jumping off the page. I can visualise them; I can almost feel them in my hands.’

  Sinéad’s face lit up with a mixture of excitement and relief. ‘Are they good enough for New Yorkers?’

  ‘They’re good enough for royalty!’

  Sinéad laughed. ‘Oh, there’s a thought. But right now I’m focusing on Manhattan.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Krystie’s eyes widened.

  Sinéad stood up, stretched and then sat down in her chair. ‘Yeah, I’ve decided to lure my sister out of hiding.’

  Krystie sat down opposite. ‘I’m listening.’ Her eyes flickered between her boss and the designs as Sinéad explained her plan.

  ‘So, what do you think?’

  ‘I think you’re right. I doubt she’d be able to resist checking you out. She would be so proud.’

  ‘I hope that’s true. But there’s something missing.’

  Krystie looked at the sketches and back at Sinéad. ‘What?’

  ‘You. I need you to create some designs of your own.’

  She gaped at Sinéad. ‘But I’ve still so much to learn!’

  ‘About millinery, yes, but not about design, and that’s what’s important here. I have much more chance of getting into the big stores if I can present them with two contrasting styles. Do you think you can do it?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I think I can. Thank you.’ Krystie leaned forward and flung her arms around Sinéad.

  ‘Don’t thank me. I’m using everything and everyone at my disposal to find Sheila.’

  ‘That’s fine too. I’d love to be able to help.’

  Sinéad smiled. ‘Thanks, but I hope you’re ready for a lot of hard work and long hours.’

  ‘No problem,’ Krystie said, promising herself she would get a lot more early nights. She was on the point of telling Sinéad about her seizure but realised that she would have to say she was with Max when it happened. She’d better talk to him about it first so they got their stories straight.

  ‘Then let’s get started.’

  It was amazing how Sinéad’s smile changed her from being an attractive woman to a stunning one, Krystie thought. She looked at the sketches and thought that they weren’t just the work of a talented person but a passionate one.

  ‘Tell me,’ Sinéad said, ‘where or how do you design best?’

  ‘I usually just go window shopping and then when I think I have some ideas I sit down somewhere with my pad and pencil.’ Krystie looked back at all Sinéad’s
designs. ‘When did you do all these?’

  ‘I’ve been up since five listening to Leonard Cohen.’

  ‘You did all of this in one morning?’

  ‘It doesn’t usually work like that but I suppose it’s been so long since I designed anything, once I started I couldn’t stop. I tell you what. Let’s get to work on a couple of them and then you can take off early and head into town and see if you get any ideas.’

  They worked steadily all morning and, when Sinéad went out for lunch, Krystie rang her GP to make an appointment.

  ‘We have a cancellation at six. Could you come in then?’ the receptionist asked.

  Krystie hesitated. She didn’t want to let Sinéad down, but it was more important for both of them for her to get a check-up. ‘Yes, I’ll be there, thanks.’

  She was about to call Max when she heard someone coming up the stairs and the man himself appeared. ‘Hey!’ She smiled at him. ‘I was going to ring you.’

  ‘I like the sound of that,’ he grinned. ‘Were you offering to take me out to lunch?’

  ‘No, my boss is a slave driver, she doesn’t allow me out.’

  He frowned. ‘You make sure to eat and take a break. You need to take better care of yourself, Krystie, and you certainly shouldn’t be overdoing it after last night.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking along the same lines and I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for this evening.’

  ‘Are you worried?’ He took his sister’s chair and pulled it closer.

  ‘No, it’s standard procedure to have a scan done after a seizure,’ she assured him, touched by the concern in his eyes. ‘I’ve been really dumb these last few weeks. I brought the attack on myself but I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be sensible from now on. Anyway, I won’t have time to misbehave. Sinéad told me about her plan. I’m so excited.’

  ‘I’m not sure there is a plan, is there? Sinéad has started to design but I don’t think she’s figured out how she’s going to get these big New York fashion stores to actually take a look at them.’

  ‘I have some ideas about that,’ Krystie said, anxious to help.

  ‘Great, as long as it’s not too stressful: that wouldn’t be good for your health.’

  She opened her mouth to deny it but he was way ahead of her.

  ‘Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I told you, I’ve read up on it.’

  ‘I’ll be careful,’ she promised, smiling.

  ‘I think we need to make a few changes around here to make this place safer.’ He spun around in the chair and scanned the room with a critical eye.

  Krystie wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Sometimes people focused too much on the illness and forgot that it was only a tiny part of her life. Still, no doubt he had to think of the insurance implications.

  ‘Really, there’s no need,’ she tried to reassure him.

  ‘Do you always know when you’re about to have a seizure?’

  ‘Sometimes I think I’m going to have one and don’t but, yeah, I get some strange feelings when it starts, so I have time to get somewhere safe.’

  ‘Good. We’ll install a panic button and link it to the café and you can press it if you’re alone and think you’re in trouble. A safety gate at the top of the stairs too, I think.’

  ‘Oh, for crying out loud! Why not just put me in a play pen just to be on the safe side?’ She laughed.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think Rory and Ellen would prefer to find their tenant in a heap at the bottom of the stairs with a hat pin sticking out of her jugular?’ She had to laugh. He rolled his chair closer and took her hand. ‘Look, Krystie, I’m not trying to make an issue of this or turn you into some kind of invalid. I just think once everyone knows the drill then we can all relax and get on with life. Does that make sense?’

  She nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Great. We’ll talk to Sinéad when she gets back.’

  ‘There’s just one little detail that you’re forgetting. How do we explain to your sister why you were with me last night when I had the attack?’

  He smirked. ‘We’ll just have to tell her that we were on a date.’

  ‘But if we went on one date don’t you think she’d expect us to go on more?’ she said, disturbingly aware that he had moved even closer.

  He reached out and ran a finger very gently down the curve of her cheek. ‘I think she might.’

  He leaned in to kiss her and, despite all the promises Krystie had made herself, she found herself turning her mouth up to his and sliding her arms around his neck.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sinéad sat with her back against the sofa, a pad resting against her knees, the radio belting out hits from the eighties in the background. She was working round the clock on her plans to take her designs to New York, determined that she would make it happen. She didn’t feel as angry at Sheila any more, either. She knew in her gut that her sister was alive, although she had given up saying so. She was fed up being told not to get her hopes up. But she couldn’t stop wondering what had made her leave and in such a way. Her thoughts as always came back to Philip, but she still couldn’t make sense of it.

  ‘You’re up early.’ Dylan walked in and, wincing, lowered the volume on the radio.

  She looked up and smiled. ‘Yeah, I can’t seem to switch off.’ She was going through a list of celebrities, columnists and fashionistas in New York that Krystie thought they should send hats to. It was a costly business and she wanted to make sure that they got their money’s worth.

  He sat down next to her and leaned in for a kiss. ‘I am delighted to see you happy, Sinéad, but do you think you could take this evening off?’

  She looked up at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we’ll spend most of the next few days with our families. It would be nice to have one evening with just the two of us.’

  She kissed him and smiled. ‘Sounds good. What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Meet me in town after work. We’ll have some dinner and if you’re good I might even take you dancing.’

  Sinéad couldn’t help thinking that a late night was the last thing she needed. She had to come up with the best collection ever in order to draw out her sister and intended to work until lunchtime the next day, when she and Dylan would go to his parents’ home for the annual exchange of gifts. But she had hardly seen him in the last couple of weeks and he had been pretty cool about it, so she owed him one night out. ‘Ellen and Rory are having a party after they close at six so I’ll have to show my face, but I could be in town for eight.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ He kissed her again and slipped his hand inside her pyjamas, his eyes twinkling. ‘We don’t really have to go dancing, do we?’

  She shivered as his fingers moved down across her stomach. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘No dancing.’

  Arriving into work a little later than planned Sinéad smiled when she saw Ellen dressed in her Mrs Claus outfit. ‘Any chance of a strong Americano? You can tell Santa I’ve been a very good girl.’

  Ellen raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s not what the elves tell me. You’re coming along later, right?’

  ‘Of course I am, along with the lovebirds.’ Sinéad grinned. She still couldn’t believe that Max and Krystie were dating.

  ‘Are they really an item now?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘It’s looking that way.’

  ‘I’m delighted. They make a nice couple.’

  ‘Yeah, they do,’ Sinéad agreed.

  ‘Oh, don’t forget to pick up your desserts before you go tomorrow.’

  Sinéad gasped. ‘Oh, crikey, I’m glad you reminded me. I am so focused on work at the moment, Christmas is sort of passing me by.’

  ‘There will be plenty of Christmases. I think that you’ve got your priorities right. I hope it works, Sinéad.’ Ellen smiled. She and Rory were the only ones outside of the family whom Sinéad had told about Krystie spotting Sheila in Manhattan and her plan to find her sister
.

  ‘You are one lovely Mrs Santa.’ Sinéad hugged her. ‘See you later.’

  Krystie was already bent over a hat when she arrived. ‘This is what I like to see, the staff hard at work.’

  ‘Morning! I’m afraid the staff is working on her ma’s Christmas present,’ Krystie admitted.

  ‘I think given the hours you put in I can let you away with that, just this once.’ Sinéad put down her coffee, took off her coat and hat and came to join her at the table. ‘Oh, Krystie . . .’

  ‘What?’ The girl looked up at her. ‘Is it awful?’

  ‘Oh, please, you know it’s not,’ Sinéad laughed.

  Krystie grinned but then looked back at the hat in her hands and sighed. ‘But something’s missing.’

  Sinéad sat down and took the hat from her. ‘Tell me about your mother. Is she going to wear this or just keep it and stare at it because her darling daughter made it?’

  Krystie laughed. ‘No, she’ll wear it. She loves hats, and they suit her too. But, yes, it will mean a lot to her that I made it. I thought that this would be a good Sunday hat but it’s too fancy with the trim and too plain and boring without it.’

  Sinéad stared intently at it. The hat was based loosely on the cloche style in a rich but understated moss green. The trim was cream with a floral motif in the same shade of green. ‘Her eyes are green?’

  ‘Hazel.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Sinéad chewed her lip. ‘What if you made the trim a plain velvet or silk band in the same colour, but perhaps a shade darker or lighter?’

  ‘Oh, yes, that would work. You are so good at this,’ Krystie said with a wistful sigh.

  Sinéad laughed. ‘I’d better be, I’ve been doing it a long time. Don’t doubt yourself, Krystie, you’re a natural and you’re a human sponge. I can’t seem to teach you fast enough.’

  The girl shrugged. ‘I’m enjoying every second.’

  ‘It shows. Now, do you mind if we forget about Ma for the moment and do some work that will actually bring in some money?’

  Krystie grinned and put the hat on a mannequin head. ‘Yes, boss.’