Chapter 51
The shower in the hotel room can’t get hot enough to scald off the smell of vomit, beef, and Boeing.
I’ve lathered myself up with soap and rinsed off three times.
I’m hoping that if I drown myself in enough aftershave that it’ll mask any remaining odour.
I soap myself up one last time. What if, after all this, Olly still doesn’t want me back?
I’m going to humiliate myself in front of everyone.
Be brave, Callum, nothing ventured nothing gained.
The room phone rings. I reach out the shower and pick it up. ‘Hello?’
‘Babe, are you ready yet? Meeting downstairs in thirty.’ There’s excitement in Soumia’s voice.
I try not to get water on the handset. ‘That’s not the plan, the bar doesn’t open until later?’
‘Don’t worry about it, everything’s under control. Time for a quick drink before Operation Olly.’
‘No, I don’t...’
She’s already hung up.
I dry myself off and put on my lucky Aussiebums and wiggle into a pair of Hollister jeans.
They’re the only brand that fit me just right.
I stuff my feet into black Nike trainers that I paid far too much for and have done very little running in, then hold up part of the plan.
A black t-shirt with pink writing, Kiss Me Quick, and a huge pair of glittery lips.
I manage to squeeze into like a contortionist, though it looks like a crop top on me and only covers half of my belly button.
In for a penny, in for a pound. I throw on my jacket to cover what is practically a moob tube to give me some dignity while I make one quick errand.
I grab the key card out the electric kill switch on the wall, take the lift to the ground floor, and run out the hotel door and up the sidewalk to a traditional bakery two blocks away.
The aroma of freshly baked goods fills the small outlet.
Behind a glass screen are cakes in every colour you can image.
Huge American sized cakes. One serving is enough to put you in a diabetic coma.
I salivate at the chocolate brownie which is topped with Oreos and M you’ve got to go soon.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I mean, we’re all finishing these off and then we’ll head out.’
‘Where the hell are we going? The karaoke doesn’t open for another hour, and where’s Olly?’
‘He had to check the aircraft over before it’s return flight. He’s going to meet us there, don’t worry.’
‘And he definitely has no idea what’s going on?’
‘Who knows anything in this life, babe? None of us do, not really.’
‘Soumia?’
She’s pushing me towards the door. ‘We’ll take in a few sights first.’
‘Soumia, I’m dressed like a middle-aged Britney Spears. I want some Dutch courage, and then I’m hoping to spend the rest of the evening with my tongue down Olly’s throat. I’m not arsed about the sights.’
‘Yes, yes, ok.’ She’s not listening to a word I say. ‘Stop fussing.’
‘Soumia, this isn’t the plan.’
Ivy’s voice billows out over the gang. She ushers us all together for a group pic. ‘I’m too old for instabob, but a nice picture on our media channels might go a long way to repair some of the damage from previous night stops.’
Nick shouts out, ‘Do you want me to show my arse so I can be recognised?’
‘I do not wish to see your pasty behind or any other appendage you may be concealing.’ Ivy holds up the camera. ‘Say Tiny World.’
There’s a chorus of Tiny World as Ivy takes the picture, phone in hand, vape in mouth.
‘Do you want me to take one of you all together?’ Alex has appeared.
I double take. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Soumia told me you were both on a night stop and asked if I wanted to join you for a beer.’
‘Soumia messaged you?’
Soumia’s fiddling with her watch. ‘Yes, what of it? I message people all the time.’
Alex is shooing us all back together for a team portrait including Ivy, the Queen of the team. ‘Come on get closer.’ Alex takes a few snaps. ‘They look really good.’
‘Let’s head.’ Soumia’s practically dragging the crew out the door.
I hang at the back of the group to walk with Alex.
‘I owe you an apology for blocking you,’ I tell her.
‘I would have done the same.’
‘I should have known it was a set up.’
‘I’m sorry too. I should have been around more.’
‘Shall we start again?’ I offer out my hand.
She dismisses it and hugs me. ‘Yes, but this time with less Sambuca.’
‘I think I deserve at least one, dressed like this.’
‘Deal,’ she says. ‘But it does suit you’
‘Do you know about the plan?’
‘I know all about the plan.’ And she winks, dragging the all out far longer than necessary.
With that, we quicken our pace to catch up with the gang.
The sights and sounds of New York are dazzling.
The constant beeping from taxis, the singing from street performances, the huge billboards enticing you with the latest must-have products demonstrated by the hottest celebrities currently in Vogue.
When you look up at the buildings they seem to touch the heavens.
Whole streets and blocks are neatly compacted into tiny spaces which go on forever. The magic of New York.
I’m unable to appreciate it fully as the nerves in my stomach distract me.
Soumia shouts to the gang over the noise of the traffic. ‘I thought we could go for a walk in Central Park first.’
We enter Central Park at West 59th and take a stroll around the pond.
The trees are showing early signs of summer with fresh buds flashing a hint of green.
Looking back over the pond, there’s a row of skyscrapers, all standing tall with broad shoulders.
Another photo opportunity for us all. This is why I always wanted to fly; to meet new people and explore new places.
I duck to miss a low flying pigeon. For a second, I feel like I’m back in Piccadilly Gardens.
There’s still a late spring chill in the air, and there’s a definite breeze around my midriff, but being here with Soumia and Alex is warming.
They’re actually talking to each other; I’m hoping it’s the start of a friendship for them.
Nick and Dave are sat on a bench. They very much look like a middle-aged couple in love.
Dave cracks a joke and only Nick laughs, something I’m sure you’d only understand if you were in their inner circle.
They share a tender kiss; a glimpse of what life is like when they close their front door and block out the world.
I’m very aware I look like an eccentric man who’s decided to take his rubber duck for a walk in the middle of Central Park.
Ivy’s appeared at my side.
‘Did you come here in your day?’ I ask her.
‘I did. The buildings weren’t as tall and there wasn’t as many coffee shops back then.’ Ivy wipes her nose with a hanky she’s pulled from her jacket sleeve. ‘How are you really doing, Callum? You’ve not been back here since you know when.’
‘I’m doing OK. Really good, actually. Nervous, but good.’ And I find that I mean it.
‘A lot of people care about you, you know?’ There’s real affection in Ivy’s voice. ‘I’d never admit it, but you’re my favourite. You do a good job. A little opinionated at times. You’d make a great senior.’
I smile, because I think maybe I would.
‘Can I tell you a secret, Ivy?’
‘Go on.’
‘You’re not as bad as you like to pretend to be.’
‘Don’t go telling anyone or I’ll have to fire you.’
‘I never thanked you properly for what you did for me last time we were here. I was going through a...’ I’m not quite sure what I was going through.
‘It’s OK.’ Ivy squeezes my arm.
Jason has been so well behaved that I’d almost forgotten he’s here. Danielle is chasing him trying to put an ice cream cone she’s bought onto his nose.
We head out of the park and down 7th Ave. Everyone seems to be in a rush except us. Locals tut as they walk around us at speed to avoid our promenade. A group of lads pass by and wolf whistle at me. I want to die. I’m walking the streets of New York in a crop top with a rubber duck in my hand.
As time passes, my heart races with realisation that I’m about to face my fear.