Chapter 30
I stared at Ross for a moment in shocked, baffled silence. You know what it’s like when you’re on holiday – you lose track of what day of the week it is, never mind what day of the year. But I should have known – of course I should. The banks of flowers of flowers propped up against the stone of the monument should have told me. The crowds of people, some smiling, some dabbing their eyes with tissues, all reverent, should have told me.
And if I’d been too thick to notice those clues, Ross’s presence here should have filled in the final gap. But it hadn’t.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh. It’s the eleventh of September.’
He nodded.
‘And you had to come here – you had to be here today because…’
‘Shall we go and get a coffee?’ he asked. ‘Somewhere not here?’
‘Of course. Let’s go.’
We threaded our way through the knots of people towards the exit and left the park. Beyond the shelter of the trees, the sun was fierce and I could feel the warmth of the sidewalk coming up through the soles of my shoes.
‘You know what New Yorkers say?’ Ross was smiling slightly. ‘It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.’
‘It certainly is,’ I agreed, relieved that he didn’t appear to be actually furious with me.
For the first time since I’d arrived in the city, I didn’t need to worry about finding my own way around – I just walked where Ross walked, our shoulders almost but not quite touching, turning corners and crossing streets together in silence amid the lunchtime bustle.
He led us down a side street – a quiet, unassuming road that seemed miles from the tourist trail even though it was still the centre of town. The pavements were lined with a mix of small stores selling vintage clothing, Asian food ingredients and secondhand furniture. Right at the end, we came to a diner, and Ross opened the door for me and led us to a Formica-topped table with two metal-topped chairs on either side, a steel napkin dispenser and bottles of ketchup and mustard on its top.
‘This do?’ he said. ‘It’s not much, but it’s where I always come.’
‘Sure. It looks great.’
I was hungry, I realised, and thirsty and footsore from all the miles I’d walked. I was also tired – the confrontation with Amelie and now this encounter with Ross had left me feeling bewildered and wrung out, as if my brain had taken in all the surprises it could hold.
But I knew there was another surprise in store for me – or not really a surprise any more, given what his presence and his silence had already told me.
We sat down and a waitress brought us glasses of iced water. I took a grateful gulp and Ross did the same.
‘You hungry?’ he asked. ‘The grilled cheese is great.’
I nodded and he ordered for us both.
‘Do you always come here?’ I guessed.
‘Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t include in my tour guide recommendations. It’s not exactly the Top of the Rock.’
‘Or Katz’s Deli.’
He smiled. ‘Right? But it’s where I always used to come with my dad.’
‘Do you want to talk about him?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘I guess I should explain. It’s not a long story, really. He was a firefighter.’
I felt a coldness settle in my stomach that had nothing to do with the iced water. ‘And he was… there?’
‘On 9/11. Yeah, he was. He was one of the lucky ones, in theory. He wasn’t on shift when the planes hit the towers, so he wasn’t involved in the initial response. But they were all called in, of course. He spent hours and hours there, afterwards. But he survived.’
I thought of the scenes I’d seen on television – the planes hitting, the clouds of smoke, the chaos. I remembered Mum and Dad trying to explain to me and Amelie what was happening, but the memory was vague – it was a long time ago, we’d both been small girls, and they’d tried to make what they told us age-appropriate, not the stuff of nightmares it was.
Ross hadn’t had the luxury of that emotional shelter.
‘I was eight,’ he went on. ‘I mean, I knew Dad’s job was dangerous. But it was also kind of cool, having a father in the fire service. I never thought anything bad would happen to him. And like I say, it didn’t. Not right away. He was lucky and I was too. But afterwards – I mean, it wasn’t just one day, you know.’
I nodded. ‘It must have taken a long time. The rescue mission, I mean.’
He shook his head. ‘Not that long. Once they knew they’d got out all the people they could, that part of it was over. But also, it never really ended.’
The waitress brought us our food and put the plates down on the table between us. The sandwiches smelled delicious, but I didn’t feel like eating.
‘He had post-traumatic stress disorder,’ Ross said. ‘He used to have nightmares, waking up screaming. Mum said it was natural, after something like that. She said he’d get help, talk it out, and be okay in a few months. But he never was.’
‘I can’t imagine,’ I said, ‘how anyone could ever be the same after something like that.’
‘Mum tried her best,’ he went on, ‘but she had to protect herself, and protect me. And he changed. His whole personality changed. He was depressed. He was violent, sometimes. To Mum and to me. So after two years she left, and took me back to the UK with her.’
‘Did he get better?’
‘Mentally, yes. I think Mum leaving was kind of the catalyst for him to get more help. By the time I was in high school, I could come and visit him in the summer without Mum worrying too much what he’d be like with me. He even went back to work. But then he got sick.’
‘From the… from what happened that day?’
Ross nodded again. ‘He was diagnosed with mesothelioma a couple of years back.’
‘Meso—?’ I hadn’t caught the middle of the word, but I understood the end. I know that any medical condition ending in -oma was bad news.
‘It’s a type of cancer linked to asbestos inhalation,’ Ross explained. ‘It’s really slow to develop. You can go for years without any symptoms, like Dad did. And once they knew, it was too late for them to treat it.’
‘I’m sorry.’ My voice came out in a whisper.
‘The thing is,’ Ross said, ‘it’s like I lost him three times. You know what I mean? The first, when he changed after the attacks. Then again when we moved to London, where Mum’s from. And then, just when I thought I could rebuild a relationship with him, have a dad again, I found out he had this terminal illness, and I wasn’t going to have him for long.’
‘I’m so sorry. Ross, that’s awful.’
‘He died last year,’ he said. ‘Before Christmas. Last year was the last time I went to the memorial ceremony with him, but I promised I’d carry on coming here without him. Like it was the last thing I could do for him. So you see why I had to come.’
‘Of course I see. I totally get it.’
‘I tried to tell you.’
‘I know you did. I should have picked up your calls. But I didn’t. I was annoyed about – about the thing that happened the other day.’
‘What thing? I’m sorry, Lucy – I guess I did something to offend you, but I’m not sure what.’
‘The When Harry Met Sally thing,’ I muttered.
‘Oh my God. Lucy, I… I mean, it was unexpected, that’s for sure. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d do. But it was hilarious. You totally nailed it. Why’s it a problem?’
To my surprise, I burst out laughing. ‘I suppose you’re right. I guess I’m not the first person to do that exact thing at that exact table and I’m sure I won’t be the last. But I felt really awkward afterwards, like I was hitting on you or something. Especially when I realised you were out with Bryony. I felt really stupid.’
‘Um… Lucy. There”s something I need to tell you, because it kind of changes things.’
I swallowed and looked at him, waiting for bad news.
‘Bryony and me – well, we’re not together any more. She dumped me. But if she hadn’t, I’d have probably called it a day myself.’
‘I know,’ I said gently. ‘I found out over WhatsApp. I’m sorry.’
I thought of the details – the guy Bryony had kissed on her night out, and the others she’d mentioned. But there was no way I was going to tell him about that – it was for Bryony to reveal if she wanted to, and I’d have hated to say anything that might hurt him.
‘Thanks.’ He smiled. ‘It’s never nice when something ends. But if it means something else could begin…’
‘Like what?’ My voice sounded kind of hoarse.
‘Lucy, I’m not going to lie, that thing you did in Katz’s – it was… I know you were just play-acting and it was a joke and everything. But it was kind of hot.’
‘Hold on,’ I could see awkwardness radiating from him, and I tried to smooth it over with a joke. ‘You think women faking orgasms is hot?’
‘No!’ he protested. ‘I don’t want you to fake any orgasms for me, ever.’
Then that familiar blush rushed up over his cheeks, and he pressed his hands over his face to hide it. ‘Oh Jesus. I’m just digging myself further into a hole here, aren’t I? Forget I even said that.’
I giggled again. ‘No, I think you’re all good. We can establish right now that I’ll never fake another orgasm for you, and move on.’
He peered at me between his fingers and smiled. I smiled back. And I felt – something. Like a tingle that went from my lips right the way down through my body – a slow-motion electric shock. As I looked at him, I could imagine it flashing across the table, through his hands, meeting his own smile and then coursing deliciously downwards.
I fancy him. I really, really do. And I think he fancies me too.
‘Ross?’ I asked. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘You know what, I have no idea,’ he said. ‘I dumped my bag at Penn Station when I got the train in from JFK. I was planning to get a room in a Holiday Inn or somewhere.’
I took a deep breath. ‘You can crash at my AirBnB in Brooklyn, if you like. There’s plenty of room. It’s booked for another two nights and I should probably get a flight back tomorrow – or even this evening – so you’d have the place to yourself.’
‘Really? That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.’
Again, I felt that thrill run through me. I knew what it was now – desire. And with it, there came a sense of power – a power I’d never knew I had. The ability to flirt with a man.
‘Which offer?’ I asked. ‘The apartment with me, or the apartment to yourself?’
There it was again – that blush. It was intoxicating – I could do this to him any time I liked.
‘I – I don’t know,’ he mumbled.
‘Then it depends,’ I said, ‘on which option you’d prefer.’
‘I think you probably know the answer to that,’ he replied, and I felt my own face turn absolutely scarlet.
‘Let’s head back there now, then.’ I felt overcome with shyness all of a sudden.
‘But first we should eat,’ he said. ‘Hope you don’t mind cold grilled cheese.’
‘I can’t think of anything nicer. Except maybe one thing.’
Our eyes met. We grinned and blushed in unison, and then we tore into our food like we hadn’t eaten in weeks.
But before I’d finished the second half of my sandwich, I was interrupted by the thrumming of my phone in my bag. I realised that I’d momentarily forgotten about the situation with Amelie, and the incoming call brought my awareness springing back to her, like an invisible cord between us was being tugged.
I rummaged in my bag, located my phone and looked eagerly at the screen. But the number there wasn’t my sister’s.
‘Greg,’ I mouthed across the table to Ross, and his eyebrows raised in sympathetic anticipation. ‘Hello, Lucy speaking.’
I kept watching Ross’s face as I spoke to my boss. His expression went from curious through amused, concerned to alarmed, and by the time I ended the call he’d already asked for the bill and paid it, leaving a twenty-dollar tip for our patient waitress.
‘Shit,’ I said, dropping my phone back into my bag. ‘We need to get back to Brooklyn, like, right now.’