Chapter 39
HERALD SQUARE
Mr Darcy woofed.
‘He needs to be good, Phoebe,’ Gabriella said.
‘He’s just talking and Eric got him a collar and lead that we can use until we can get a cute, pink one with fake diamonds.’ Phoebe rubbed Mr Darcy’s ears.
It was busy. New York busy. But it was a city that felt like adventure and Gabriella couldn’t deny that spending the night at a festive market, right outside the iconic store, Macy’s, decorated like a sparkling gift from the ground up to the top of its apparently eleven floors, was a whole lot better than itineraries with Cheyenne.
Luca had told them a brief history of Macy’s when they had walked over the bustling crossing to arrive here in Herald Square, the air nose-bitingly cold.
And now they were amid wooden huts that looked far more chic than any Christmas market Gabriella had been to in England.
But there were glowing garlands and the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air, together with that almost familiar New York waft of hotdogs and onions.
‘We can get all our gifts here!’ Phoebe announced excitedly. ‘Look, there are scarfs Grandmama would love.’
‘Don’t bet on that,’ Gabriella said through partly gritted teeth.
‘So, how do you celebrate Christmas back in England?’ Luca asked as they began to walk the rows of cabins with many other likeminded shoppers.
‘Lots of tea, obviously. We drink tea at all times. Celebration, commiseration, extreme shock if there isn’t an Indiana Jones film on the TV over the festive period.’
‘Yeah, funny, Gabriella.’
‘I don’t know what you mean. I’m being entirely serious.’
‘I meant, what do you do as a family. Do you all get together?’
‘Sit around the fire and sing holy carols? Make Christingles? Share heartwarming anecdotes from Christmases past?’
She stopped herself from talking. It was that usual Gabriella bravado, fighting hurt with humour, but, unlike most people, Luca wasn’t falling for it. Why wasn’t he falling for it?
‘Yeah, I’m not really a Christmas person,’ she admitted with a shrug of nonchalance she didn’t mean.
‘Me neither. I really don’t like Christmas,’ Luca said.
‘Shh!’
‘What?’
‘I don’t think you can say it quite that bluntly or so loudly in a festive market.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s… against the December law and a team of Santa’s angry elves might descend and kick the crap out of you in front of everyone lining up for a turn sitting on their boss’s knee telling him their biggest gift wish.’
‘Wow,’ Luca said, looking straight at her as they meandered behind Phoebe and Mr Darcy. ‘That’s some hidden trauma right there. What did Santa ever do to you?’
Gabriella sighed. ‘It’s the obnoxious red suit. Come on, Mr Expert Stylist, it’s a crime against fashion at the very least.’
‘Maybe like you wearing a fake Prada coat.’
‘Is that supposed to sting me? Some people can’t afford Prada, you know.’
‘I don’t believe Prada haven’t offered to gift you one if you’ve been photographed in that.’
She smiled. ‘I’m always photographed in it. And Prada have offered. It’s a choice.’
‘Why?’
‘So many reasons.’
‘And you are an expert at not answering a direct question.’
‘I do answer,’ Gabriella stated. ‘Just not always in the ways people hope for. So, tell me, why aren’t you a Christmas person?’
‘I think I asked you my Santa question first. And I am a gentleman who can wait his turn.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Not answering until you do.’
‘I wasn’t really that interested.’
‘OK then.’
She watched him put his hands in the pockets of his coat and then he overtook her, sidling up to Phoebe and Mr Darcy, pointing at some hideous pink candyfloss that could possibly give you diabetes in one sitting.
Why did she now want to know why he didn’t like Christmas more than she had ever wanted to know anything about anybody?
‘Gabriella, can we get candyfloss?’ Phoebe called as Gabriella caught up to them.
‘Actually, Phoebe, the New York thing to have at a Christmas market is waffles,’ Luca told her.
‘Gabriella, can we get waffles?’
Gabriella smiled. ‘We can get waffles on one condition.’
‘What?’ Phoebe asked.
She looked directly at Luca. ‘That Luca tells us why he doesn’t like Christmas.’
The second the words were out of her mouth she wanted to take them back. His usual light eyes clouded over like someone had extinguished all the good in the world.
‘You don’t like Christmas!’ Phoebe exclaimed.
Gabriella jumped fast. Verbally and physically. She grabbed Phoebe’s arm. ‘God, no! Phoebe, I’m kidding. Just joking! I mean, who doesn’t like Christmas?’ She laughed. Perhaps a bit too hard and in a slightly unhinged way.
‘Well, I know it’s not your favourite time of year but—’
‘But people can change their mind,’ Gabriella said, dramatically. ‘In New York…’ She looked to a stall to their left. ‘Surrounded by scented candles and… whatever those wooden things are over there.’ She dug in her handbag and produced some cash. ‘Go and get some waffle things.’
‘I will but I don’t know what everyone wants on them.’
‘It’s OK,’ Luca said. ‘I’ll help. Let’s go.’
And as Luca, Phoebe and Mr Darcy strode off, Gabriella was left feeling a lot like the Grinchiest Grinch in New York City.