You Belong With Me

chapter044

‘New York is different to London,’ Elliot said, as they got ready to head out for brunch, Edie pulling fingerless wool gloves on.

‘Wow, really? Thanks, Bill Bryson,’ Edie said, to amusement. One decent night’s sleep and some caffeine and she was certainly resembling herself.

‘Oh, for fu—! I’m talking about the nature of the hassle. People are more open and shout at you here, but keep moving quickly and we should be fine. There’s not usually any paps on this street, and I’m going to avoid their usual haunts. Also, I can’t really take you to any tourist sights – is that OK?’

‘That’s fine – I did it all when I came here about seven years ago. The Empire State can’t have changed much.’

‘Ah. Who with? Friends?’

‘My ex, Matt.’

‘Oh right,’ Elliot said, then paused. ‘Slag.’

Edie hooted with laughter.

‘How long were you with him?’

‘Three years. Twenty-six to twenty-nine.’

‘Gross,’ Elliot said, and the air crackled with the frisson of comic jealousy and real jealousy.

‘He’s dead actually.’

‘Shit, really?’

‘No. Engaged with a baby called Lila, according to what he posts on Facebook,’ Edie said.

‘Hmm, liked him better when deader,’ Elliot said.

In the elevator on the way to street level, Elliot pulled his hat disguise on. ‘What a life this is. Do I look like a Home Alone robber?’

‘Hahaha. I never think of you as famous any more, except when I have to,’ Edie said.

‘I don’t think of myself as famous either.’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Not really. It’s so separate to me. It feels like a prank that’s got out of hand. Like I did something silly, and I can’t take it back yet. In my head, I live fifteen minutes from you at home, and I’m still exactly like you, but I’m on this mad adventure, for the time being.’

Edie surveyed him thoughtfully. ‘I think I get that. I really do.’

‘Nothing imaginary about the amazing table I’m getting us tonight though,’ Elliot said. ‘Loser Matt could never.’

They held hands and strode with purpose once outside, Edie’s chin buried in the neck of her coat, relishing being with someone who knew where they were going. No start-stopping and bovine Google Maps staring.

Elliot took her to an unshowy diner, and they sequestered themselves in a far corner booth. Edie could tell they were following tried and tested paths that Elliot had designed for himself in this environment, offering lower chance of occurrences, mishaps.

‘It’s tons of pressure but totally different to Void pressure,’ Elliot said, twiddling his fork in his huevos rancheros, after Edie asked about work. ‘There, the responsibility was business. This one is heart not head. I want to do it justice. The pressure is coming from me, not a boardroom.’

‘I understand why,’ Edie said, sucking on the paper straw in a large beaker of ice water. ‘… From only the scrap I read, it’s special.’ (Speaking of special, this was the best mushroom omelette she’d ever had.)

‘That’s it, exactly! It’s special. You know, the whole pitch of Your Table is Matteo’s coming back to the city and running the restaurant his late father owned, his father who was an industry legend. Awful parent, sensational at his job. People don’t think Matteo can do it. It’s all about him proving himself and striving for paternal love he’ll never win. Feels, uh, thematically deeply meaningful to me,’ Elliot said, smiling. He paused. ‘Could you get a better demonstration of why my life is nonsensical? I’m explaining why I have to be in America for the sake of someone who doesn’t exist.’

Edie smiled and squirmed. This was too much clarity for comfort. That Your Table meant he wasn’t coming back to the UK for a long while was obvious, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. And although Elliot wasn’t pitting his love for her against the dramatic needs of a fictional legacy restauranteur, he was.

‘I think of it very much as an ensemble, but Matteo is the premise and the linchpin. The thought of letting the other cast and crew down by screwing it up is unbearable. Which means I’m truly committed.’

‘Plus, if you’re too modest to say it, I will – you’re the star, you’re the draw,’ Edie said. ‘Matteo is a main character, but in the real world, so are you. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and so on. Why doesn’t England adopt home fries?’

‘Good?’ Elliot said. ‘I hoped you’d like it here.’

‘It’s great.’

‘I suppose that’s true about being the lead, but I try not to think about it as it’s a group effort and there are people in it far more talented than me. Ines has hit it out of the park. She won’t be given decorative roles after this. Or she will, but she won’t have to take them.’

Edie squirmed some more. ‘Great,’ she said. She could tell Elliot had that home from school trip unbridled enthusiasm where he wasn’t gauging her reaction. Was Edie going to be her higher self, and say nothing snippy? No, she decided. ‘Does Ines manage not to straddle you in your fag breaks?’

‘Er … oh. Haha. Yeah. Calmed down entirely,’ Elliot said, the beat where he figured out what Edie was referring to making it obvious that, until now, the Padrona outrages had been entirely forgotten. ‘She’s just a very touchy-feely, affectionate person. Too nice and trusting for this industry altogether, I fear. I worry.’

‘Do you?’

‘No! Not like that at all. Like a sister. I know you didn’t have the best introduction to her, but I think you’re going to love Ines in the show.’

Edie nodded and said nothing, because she no doubt would, and that wouldn’t be easy either.

‘Hey, I saw this dress I think you’d like …’ Elliot said, fishing his phone out and showing her a website.

Edie looked at the Vampire’s Wife shimmering chiffon, with a four-figure price tag.

‘Can I get it for you? For Fraz’s wedding maybe?’

‘Ehm … are things I own already not going to be good enough for that?’ Edie said, wondering if this was a subtle intervention. Even imagining a coded maternal conversation: Darling, you’re going to look after Edie, aren’t you …? What’s she planning for her outfit?

‘Wow,’ Elliot said. ‘That was uncalled for. “Can I buy you a present?” “So you think I look like crap?” Jeez, Edie.’

‘I didn’t mean that!’ Edie said. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m a gold-digger, that’s all. I’m sorry I was spiky – that’s really kind, and I would love that dress, thank you. You’ve got my taste exactly right.’

There was a strained silence, during which a waiter refilled their coffee.

‘You don’t want me to think you’re a gold-digger?’ Elliot repeated, and Edie fretted that she’d really hurt his feelings and spoiled the day.

‘Yes. I know it says more about me and nothing about you …’

‘Amazing. You’d be the worst gold-digger ever known. Truly the most ineffectual, unsuccessful, embarrassment to the profession of gold-digging. You’ve told me to kindly piss off literally every time I’ve tried to buy you anything more than a pint. “Edie, have I taken that hint right, you like diamonds?” “Shove your solitaire up your arse, creepy Bluebeard.”’

Edie put her hand over her mouth as she laughed, and Elliot shook his head. Thank God for the glue of a shared sense of humour.

As they left, hand in hand, not only was she glad they hadn’t fallen out but she registered that he’d casually and possibly intentionally implied that what he’d have bought her was an engagement ring. Another zero on the great cheque of expectations that existed only in Edie’s head.

It’s not any promise that you’ll feel the same in a year’s time.