Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
NOAH
‘So, who are these people we’re going to meet?
’ Evie asked as we neared Grand Central Station late the following afternoon.
It was a brief port of call on our way out to dinner with a friend I wanted Evie to meet.
I thought they’d have something in common, both being journalists, and that he might help her because it was obvious she was worrying about not knowing whether she had a job or not.
‘Todd. I told you about him, remember? We were at college together. Both played on the soccer team. He was one of those naturally gifted players who didn’t care that much about … well, anything.’ I pulled a quick face, remembering the front he’d always put on.
‘Right,’ Evie said, sounding a little disappointed.
‘Sorry, that doesn’t paint him in a good light. He’s rich, hot and had a shitty upbringing.’
‘Still not selling him,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘How come you’re friends with him? He doesn’t sound very you at all. Aren’t you close with your family?’
‘We are but I don’t make a big thing of it.’
‘No, you hide it well – not part of your bad-boy image.’
‘What bad-boy image?’ After my partying days and Gabe losing his way, I’d done my best to avoid a bad-boy image, which is why the recent adverse publicity had been so galling.
‘Todd is the one with the bad-boy image, although he loves my family. Probably more than he likes me. He’s very loyal to his friends. He always has my back. Always used to come home with me on spring break when we were at college and he keeps in touch with my mom.’
‘Okay. He’s inching back up the scale,’ said Evie, screwing up her face with a begrudging twist of her mouth.
‘My mom loves him. He’s got a girlfriend now, and … well … according to my mom, it’s been the making of him.’
‘Don’t tell me, and now she’s nagging you to find a nice girl,’ she teased.
‘No, my mom’s cool with my current status,’ I lied. Mom was super-keen for me to settle down.
‘You know you have a tell when you lie,’ crowed Evie. She folded her arms as if this statement was set in stone.
‘I do not.’
‘Yup, you do. Your eye crinkles up in the corner. Right there.’ She pointed and touched the outside corner of my left eye. ‘I bet she worries that girls are only after you for your money. Or because you’re a Premier League footballer.’
I sighed, because as usual Evie was bang on the money. ‘She’s just concerned about how I’ll find the right girl. That’s all.’
‘Must be difficult,’ she said, laughing at me. ‘Being so irresistible and rich.’
‘You’re so not funny.’
‘Your eye is doing that thing again,’ she teased, even though I was sure it wasn’t.
‘You’re nothing but trouble, Evie Green.’
‘I know, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. At least I’m fun.’ Her eyes sparkled. She was far too much fun, and I was enjoying spending time with her more than I should.
‘Todd works for CityZen magazine.’ I laughed suddenly thinking of the regular column he wrote. ‘He writes the Man about Town column, he knows all the best places to be seen and is invited to all the best places. He told me this bar has a three-month wait list.’
‘Now he sounds interesting,’ said Evie.
‘Here we go. The station.’ I’d never been before but the building’s reputation was legendary.
Evie hooked her woollen gloved hand through mine and picked up her pace.
We walked in through one of the side entrances under an arched roof and quickly came into the large main hall, which at this time of the evening, just after seven, was quietening down.
Several purposeful commuters strode across the marble floor in response to the tinny-voiced announcements calling people to platforms but there was also an air of calm as if a higher order was presiding over events.
Both of us immediately craned our necks to look up at the vast vaulted ceiling, painted in a striking shade of green with gilded illustrations of the zodiac and constellations.
‘It’s stunning. Imagine coming through here every day on your way to work. Do you think people ever stop noticing?’ asked Evie, walking in a circle as she looked up.
‘I hope not,’ I said.
‘Probably do,’ said Evie mournfully.
I smiled, watching her as she frowned in thought. I couldn’t help myself, I stepped forward, to rub away the little scrunched up v above her nose. ‘I don’t think you ever would.’
Evie would always notice the things around her. It was part of her charm and what made her special.
She brightened and grinned at me. ‘I think you’re right. Did you ever see that film—?’
‘The Fisher King,’ I finished for her.
‘Yes,’ she clapped her hands in delight.
‘Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I’ve never seen it. For a while they held New Year’s Eve waltzes here to celebrate the film, but they’ve stopped now.’
‘Shame. It’s a gorgeous scene. The whole of Grand Central Station starts waltzing, all the commuters pairing up.
It is quite magical.’ She sighed, looking wistful.
‘I guess most people don’t even know how to waltz these days.
’ I heard her humming to herself and recognised the familiar one-two-three, one-two-three refrain.
I stepped back from her and searched up a waltz on my phone.
I wasn’t sure what had got into me, but as the music started, it was worth the whimsicality to see Evie’s head lift and the smile of pure enchantment that touched the corners of her mouth. I bowed because it seemed appropriate, and I knew she would love it. ‘Dance with me?’
‘Oh.’ She stood motionless for a moment, and I could tell that I’d surprised her.
I took her in my arms then held out one hand and she placed hers into it. I stepped forward, with my left foot nudging her opposite foot backwards. The steps came back easily and for the first time in my life I was grateful to old Mrs Robbins who’d insisted our class learn to dance.
Evie followed my lead, shuffling at first until her confidence grew, and then we were gliding around the small patch of floor that we’d commandeered, not bothering anyone or getting in their way. Eventually, the music faded and we stopped.
Evie gave me the most angelic smile, standing in a beam of light and I felt my heart go boom inside my chest, as if it had ballooned so hard and fast it had filled my entire chest cavity. For a moment, all I could do was stare back at her.
‘That was lovely, Noah. Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘I’ll remember this forever.’ She took my hand and linked her fingers through mine with a quick squeeze.
A couple walking past gave us a discreet burst of applause, reminding us that we were not alone.
‘Let’s go up,’ said Evie, tugging my hand and leading me over to the split staircase up to the next level.
We leaned on the stone balustrade looking out over the station. Even a level up, the roof was still a long way above us.
‘This really is gorgeous,’ said Evie, her eyes soft and luminous with appreciation. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever forget this.’ She turned and smiled at me. I felt a little tug, like a silk ribbon wrapping around me and easing me towards her.
We spent another fifteen minutes gazing up at the roof.
It seemed neither of us were in a hurry to leave and we kept turning to each other and smiling.
It struck me how often we were in accord, as much in the quiet introspective times as during the busy, active periods when it was easy to chat and laugh.
As I stared at Evie, at her pretty face and the curls spilling down her back, I realised it would be hard to say goodbye to her. Maybe … I could invite her on a date in London, once I was back on the team and things had settled down.
* * *
The bar had a speakeasy vibe, and Todd had warned me I’d need a password to get in.
I thought he was jerking me around, but when we arrived at the unobtrusive doorway and opened the door, we were greeted with a sharp stare from a balding man sitting on a high stool reading a copy of The Great Gatsby.
‘Help you?’ he asked, sounding disinterested and vaguely irritated that we’d disturbed his reading.
Evie and I exchanged a quick look, and I had that quick frisson of uncertainty. Had I got the correct address?
‘We’re meeting someone here?’
‘Who?’ he asked with a long-suffering sigh.
‘Todd McLennan,’ I said, expecting to be told that we had the wrong place and to leave forthwith and never darken his door again.
‘Downstairs,’ said the man and went back to his book.
Evie’s face creased up, the silent amusement written all over her face.
Like chastened school children, we crept down the concrete steps, hemmed in on either side by walls painted in oxblood red.
It wasn’t the most inviting entrance and I was beginning to wonder if Todd was playing some elaborate joke, especially when we arrived on the floor below, it was just an empty space, except for a large armoire-style wardrobe.
A petite woman in an overcoat with a brown trilby stepped out from behind a curtained alcove and tilted her head, staring at us expectantly.
‘F Scott Fitzgerald,’ I suddenly blurted out.
She gave me a nod, opened the wardrobe door and ushered us through.
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ murmured Evie, following me.
On the other side of the wardrobe and, yes, we had to push through a few coats, we stepped out into a bar in full swing.
The sudden contrast was like a punch to the face.
Dark panelled wood covered the lower parts of the wall, the upper part in plush, rich-red wallpaper.
Waiters, with a strong barber-shop vibe dressed in waistcoats and striped drainpipe trousers sporting waxed moustaches darted about carrying cocktails, decorative glasses filled with brightly coloured liquids and the occasional tall half pint of golden beer.
Judging from the level of noise rocking the place, the loud chatter punctuated with bursts of laughter and shouts of approval, people were having a really good time.
Evie’s eyes darted this way and that drinking it all in.