Chapter 45
45
POP-UP CHRISTMAS TREE LOT, NEAR CENTRAL PARK, NEW YORK
The text from Rita had been the last straw. The apartment had suddenly got claustrophobic. Words and sentences on all her devices had started to swim in front of Hayley’s eyes. She needed to breathe, ground herself into the city. But it seemed as if the whole world was out buying Christmas trimmings. As she stood by the tree lot, she again took in Central Park in the afternoon. Just outside the gates were the lines of horses, carriages attached, waiting to take couples and families on a romantic tour of the city’s sights. Just along from them were slightly less romantic open-top buses to do the same. The smell of hot dogs and sauerkraut made her lick her lips and remember that she hadn’t eaten all day. It took a lot for her to go off food but Oliver’s kick to the gut had done it. The only upside to the day was getting colour-coordinated drapes that weren’t going to cost a wealthy sheikh’s fortune.
‘What about this one, Angel?’ Vernon asked, pointing to a rather large, bushy spruce.
Angel wrinkled her nose. ‘Not tall enough. You said we could get the biggest.’
‘He said what?’ Dean erupted .
Hayley watched Vernon laugh and move along the line of trees for another look.
‘So how’s it going with the fundraiser?’ Dean asked, slipping his arm through Hayley’s. This was it. Dean was warming up to asking her about the date with Oliver.
‘It’s going. Whether it all comes together for the night I have no idea. It needs to be perfect. I need to live up to a professional event planner who is still phoning Cynthia every four hours even though she can barely speak.’
Dean laughed. ‘That’s New York for you. People here aren’t so good at letting go.’
‘Hmm,’ Hayley responded, her mind immediately going to Oliver.
‘And what about Michel? Any luck there?’ Dean had lowered his voice deliberately and Hayley shot her eyes to Angel, who was scooping Randy up into her arms.
Hayley shook her head and put her hands into her hair as if a stress headache was about to burst forth at the mention of his name. ‘I don’t know what to do next, Dean. The only thing I can think of is getting a radio or TV announcement like they did in Annie . Knowing my luck, it would be equally unsuccessful.’
‘And Oliver could play the part of Daddy Warbucks?’ Dean offered.
‘That isn’t funny.’ Hayley pulled her hair at the mention of Oliver. And the fact her brother had just slotted him into a step-father role. That was never going to happen. And it was all proof that keeping her distance from dates in the past was the right thing to do.
She changed the subject slightly. ‘How can a man just disappear like that? I’m coming to the conclusion that Michel gave me a false name. I mean, we’ve all done it.’
‘Have we? ’
‘I used to go out and tell men my name was Terri and I test-drove cars for Vauxhall.’
‘You didn’t!’
Hayley let out a heavy sigh. ‘What am I going to do if I can’t find him, Dean? I made Angel a promise, a promise I meant with all my heart. But what am I going to do if I can’t deliver?’
Dean slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘She’s had nine years without him. You’re doing all you can. There’s only so many stones to be upturned.’
‘She might be intelligent but she’s still nine and that isn’t going to wash.’
‘Well,’ Dean started. ‘There’s only one other thing I can think of.’
‘Anything. As long as it isn’t appearing on Oprah.’
‘It would be costly, but you could hire a private investigator,’ Dean said.
‘Are you kidding me? Is that really what people in New York do?’ Hayley shook her head. ‘I was thinking you were going to suggest looking at microfiches in the library.’
‘Do they even exist any more?’
‘This is the one!’ Angel yelled, one arm stuck inside the branches of a tree to rival the one in the lobby of Drummond Global. ‘It’s called Bruce!’
‘Holy crap,’ Hayley stated. ‘Bruce the Spruce.’
Dean squeezed her arm in his. ‘Listen, if you want to hire the PI then I can help you out with the money.’
‘I couldn’t do that, I?—’
‘You wouldn’t be asking. I would be offering.’ He patted her arm. ‘Think about it.’
Hayley watched Angel dancing around the tree like it was a beloved totem pole and she was Hiawatha. Looking back to Dean, she sighed. ‘So, tell me about your day. ’
‘My day,’ Dean said, a loaded sigh leaving his mouth. ‘If I told you, I’d get fired. Which is pretty much what I thought was going to happen when I asked Oliver about your date.’
She hadn’t got away with it at all. Dean still wanted to know and she was running out of other suitable topics. Mother might be her only other option. Hayley turned her face away from her brother as her cheeks reacted. She did not want to talk about it. The hurt and humiliation were way too fresh.
‘Well, that sounds a lot easier to handle than getting a text from mum saying she’s found my ten-year diary.’ That should do it.
‘Oh. My. God,’ Dean said, putting his gloved hands to his face.
If Rita had started from 2015 and worked her way back ten years, there was far worse to come than Hayley’s search for Michel. And although it was all true – exactly how she’d really felt when she wrote the words – thinking of her mum, alone, near Christmas, reading the hurtful comments and quips was punching her with guilt. She’d thought about texting back, pleading with her not to read it, or calling and begging, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. The book had been opened and so had the can of worms.