Chapter 21
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t watch you do this to yourself. Just give it to me.’
Anneka swiped my newly purchased cream blush from my stained fingers and fetched her make-up bag from the bathroom, where Mum was soaking in the tub.
I’d been attempting to dab the product on my face as strategically as the make-up artist had done yesterday, but so far I’d only managed to make myself look like a haunted Victorian doll that had been languishing, unsold, in a British antiques centre for decades.
Anneka returned, removing all traces of make-up from my face – and my fingers – with a disposable wipe before she got to work.
Mum had started to feel rough again this morning, to the extent that she didn’t have an appetite for a pre-show lunch after all.
I’d spent some time at Corner Brew making the final edits to my client’s speech.
The CEO had emailed me his feedback late yesterday – I’d never seen so many emojis in so few sentences before.
I swapped places with Anneka after a few hours so she could have a wander, but now the time had come to get ready for the wedding – and for the Radio City Rockettes.
Ethan was fine about me missing the ceremony, saying it was probably for the best if I arrived once the formal bit was over with anyway.
Anneka spent the next ten minutes adding waves to my bob using a pair of curling tongs she’d extracted from her holdall like some kind of Mary Poppins magic trick.
She then proceeded to apply fancy products to my face with various brushes, including a generous application of bronzer, which wasn’t something that my face had encountered before.
‘I don’t want to look like a completely different human, Anneka.’
‘You won’t. I’m just making your features pop a bit more.’
I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but I didn’t bother asking.
‘You know, I nearly re-trained as a make-up artist while you were at uni.’ Anneka said casually, still focusing intently on what felt like an endless application of bronzer.
‘I had no idea. What stopped you?’
‘Money, mainly. Lucky, really, as it turned out I much prefer working with dogs than with people.’
‘Ha. I also had no clue about the theatre school thing, by the way.’
Anneka’s brush stilled for a second, before resuming its sweeps. ‘It is what it is. And… I shouldn’t have brought it up.’
‘I’m glad you did, though. I feel like that’s the kind of thing people should know about their sisters.’
‘Well, now you know. Your nails are perfect, by the way,’ Anneka said quietly, staring intently at my eyes as she applied a generous coating of mascara although, somehow, not into them.
‘I asked them to match the lining of the jumpsuit.’
‘I can tell.’ Anneka slid the mascara wand back into its tube and screwed it in as she had a final appraisal of her work. ‘You’re all done!’
She spun me around to face the mirror as if we were in an episode of Queer Eye and I was a pillar of the community who was worthy of such care and attention. Against my instincts, I let out a small gasp. ‘Wow, I look…’
‘Beautiful,’ Anneka finished.
‘I was going to say “decent” but… thanks – I really love my hair wavy like this. I’ll go and show Mum.’
I stood up from the chair and began to climb over the bed towards the bathroom door.
‘Hey, before you do…’ Anneka rummaged around in her enormous make-up bag once more, and I swivelled to face her from the bed. Eventually, she removed a rectangular, hinged jewellery box.
‘Umm, so I was going to give you this on your wedding day as your “something new”, but obviously that, er, never happened. So, I thought I’d give it to you as an early New Year gift instead. Here.’
She handed me the box, which I opened with a frown – the only facial expression I could muster to reflect my surprise and confusion that she’d bought me any gift at all.
Inside was a silver bracelet with five or six charms attached to it.
It wasn’t something I’d have ever picked out for myself – I rarely wore jewellery – but I was grateful for the thought nonetheless.
‘Thank you, this is really generous of you.’
‘May I?’ she asked, reaching for the bracelet. I nodded and extended my arm so Anneka could more easily fasten the chain around my wrist. ‘I… made it myself.’
My breath caught in my throat. ‘Shut up, you did not.’
I took a proper look at the bracelet dangling from my arm, inspecting the pretty charms closely.
They took on a whole new meaning now I knew Anneka had crafted them, each of them reflecting an element of my interests and personality.
There was a pencil, a CD, a pair of headphones and a flower with the letter ‘F’ engraved in the centre.
‘Is this… a mushroom?’ I asked, peering at the fifth and final charm from every angle.
‘Yeah, remember that amazing risotto we—’
‘I remember,’ I interjected, not wanting to dwell on that memory any longer than I had to. That said, I now had a permanent reminder of my fungi fraud.
‘Since when were you a jewellery-making genius?’ I asked.
Anneka shrugged. ‘It’s hardly perfect. But I’ve been learning silversmithing for a couple of years. One of my dog walking clients has a studio in her garden. Do you like it?’ she asked, with wide eyes.
I nodded, my own eyes brimming with tears. ‘I love it. Thank you. Although now I feel bad that I haven’t got you anything.’
Anneka scrunched up her face and shook her head. ‘Nah, don’t be silly. You being here – us being here, together – is enough for me. And for Mum – even if she’d never say it out loud.’
As if she’d been eavesdropping, Mum appeared from the bathroom. She looked pale, but determined. If she had overheard our heartfelt conversation, she didn’t acknowledge it while she made her way to the makeshift dressing table, unsteady on her feet.
‘Hey, Mum. Are you sure you’re going to be—’ Anneka’s question was cut off with a hiss-like ‘shush!’ from Mum, as we both know it would be.
‘No more questions, okay? It’s our final night in New York. We’re going out. And we’re going to enjoy ourselves. That’s the end of it.’
Anneka and I looked at each other, but there was nothing to say. Mum had made up her mind, and we had no choice but to go along with whatever it was she wanted to do.
The Radio City Rockettes’ Christmas Spectacular show had been an unrelenting riot of feathers and flailing limbs.
Admittedly, it had also been fun, with the crowd in high festive spirits and our seats far enough from the stage that I felt sufficiently safe from the risk of any unexpected audience participation elements.
‘I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow morning, then,’ I said. It was just gone six thirty, and the show had just finished.
‘Yeah, checkout’s at ten, I think?’ Anneka replied, Mum leaning against a wall outside Radio City Music Hall to catch her breath while rubbing her tummy. ‘And our flight’s early evening, so we should have tons of time to get to the airport once you’re back.’
‘Great. Listen, are you sure you’re okay for me to leave you with Mum? She seems to be going downhill.’
‘Yeah, we’ll be fine. Once we get back to the UK, I’ll make sure she sees the doctor – I’m sure it’s just a virus.’
‘Okay, if you’re absolutely sure?’
‘I’m sure. Have the best time.’
‘Thanks. And… thank you for telling Mum about the wedding.’
‘Sometimes things just work out, Flo. The trick is to allow them to happen.’
I gave her a quick hug, while murmuring into her ear, ‘I’m sorry about what I said the other day.’
‘I know,’ she murmured back. ‘Me too.’
She released me and took one final look at my appearance.
‘Wait, you need one more thing.’ She started shimmying out of her enormous pink coat, and held it out to me. ‘Here.’
‘Oh, I really don’t think—’
‘I know, I know, it’s not your regular style, blah blah blah, but I looked up the venue you told me about and it’s a vibe. This’ll work way better with your jumpsuit than that tatty bomber jacket, plus it matches your nails. Trust me?’
I looked down at the sleeves at my trusty coat, which, to be fair, were frayed at the ends and did bring down the overall look somewhat.
‘Shit, you’re right. Thanks, let’s swap.’
We made the exchange, and Anneka squealed. ‘Flora Bell, your New York makeover is officially complete!’
‘Oh, you went there, did you?’ I said, with a smirk.
‘I did! Go on, go! You look amazing!’
I leaned in to give Mum a quick hug, but she shooed me off with one hand.
I flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address of the venue – a brewery in the Gowanus area of Brooklyn.
According to the loose timetable Ethan had relayed to me, the ceremony should have just about finished by now.
Dinner was due to start at seven thirty, with speeches an hour after that.
Ethan was waiting for me outside the brewery when the cab pulled up.
He looked like the frontman of a New York indie band at an awards ceremony in a slim-fitting burgundy suit and a light grey shirt, open at the neck.
A miniature bunch of seasonal herbs tied with twine was pinned to his lapel, which I sniffed as soon as he pulled me towards him.
‘Hello,’ I said, once the scent of rosemary had faded.
‘Hello. You look extremely pretty.’
‘As do you.’
We kissed, and as we parted I touched his hair, which was brushed away from his face. It was slightly hard to the touch.
‘Hair wax?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, I was meant to get it cut but ran out of time. Figured I probably shouldn’t hide behind my hair tonight.’
‘I love hiding behind your hair,’ I murmured into his ear as he took my hand and guided me into the venue, rubbing my thumb with his.
The interior of the brewery was low-key but atmospheric. It was smaller than I was expecting, but it had a painfully cool ambience, which was reflected by the general demographic of wedding guests, most of whom appeared to be extremely beautiful New York people.
Ethan squeezed my hand as he walked me to the bar.
‘I’m nervous,’ I said.
‘I know. But I’ve got you. Drink? They do a mean pilsner.’
‘Sounds great.’