I Heart New York (22 page)

Tyler arrived on the dot of seven to find me on my doorstep, juggling brown paper grocery bags, my handbag and my keys. I’d completely forgotten he was coming over in my wallowing, and by the time it hit me, during the Thanksgiving episode of
Friends
, I had just enough time to run to the food halls in Grand Central station and pick up pasta, sauce and an enormous chocolate cheesecake. I had been planning to pass it all off as my own work, but I’d spent so long internally debating the merits of cheesecake over tarte tartin, I had run out of time.

‘So this is my romantic dinner?’ he smiled, taking the bags from me.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I grimaced, tussling with the door. ‘I had that meeting with my editor, and it was all a bit, eurgh, just a bit much. I was going to cook properly, honest.’

‘Another meeting?’ Tyler followed me through the door and up the stairs. ‘You must have almost as many meetings as me.’

‘Yeah, it’s a long story,’ I said, turning up the next staircase. ‘I dare say you’ll get the pleasure of it over dinner.’

Walking into the apartment together made me realize what a state it was compared to Tyler’s luxury pad. I desperately tried to kick some of the piles of crap under the settee and distract Tyler with the wine he had brought, but I couldn’t find a bottle opener in the kitchen. Naturally, in the apartment of two singlish girls, it was in the living room. I was relieved that Tyler was in a much better mood than when I had bailed on him earlier in the week, but I couldn’t help but feel that wouldn’t last long once I broached the ‘dumping him’ portion of the evening.

We cooked together (I boiled the pasta, he microwaved the sauce) then we sat down at the coffee table, cross-legged on the floor. For a while, we chatted about nothing, Tyler wolfing down his dinner, me pushing it around my plate. I wasn’t really in the mood for the pasta or the conversation, but I was hoping he would leave before we hit the cheesecake. It had me, Jenny and a weepy bottle of wine written all over it.

‘So what was so bad about this meeting today?’ Tyler asked, topping up my drink.

‘I can’t hand on heart say it was bad,’ I said, grinding more black pepper on my uneaten pasta. ‘I’ve been offered a full-time job.’

‘Really?’ he asked, emptying his plate and starting work on mine.

‘Really,’ I nodded. ‘Staff writer on the magazine. On
The Look
. Only thing is, it’s in London.’

‘But that’s fantastic,’ he said, leaning over for a quick one-armed hug. ‘It’s a real writing job like you wanted. I told you this blog thing would be your big break.’

‘But it’s in London,’ I repeated, watching him pick up his fork and start eating again. ‘I’d have to leave almost right away.’

‘You were always going to have to leave, weren’t you?’ Tyler helped himself to my untouched food. ‘Isn’t it amazing that you have this to go back to?’

‘Well, the web editor said if I stayed then she would always have work for me.’ I couldn’t stop staring at him. He hadn’t even flinched at the idea of me leaving. ‘So I
could
stay.’

‘But surely you’re not going to,’ he looked up, mid-mouthful. ‘I mean, the webby thing is one thing, but staff writer on a magazine, that’s a real job isn’t it? It’s being a journalist, not just playing at it.’

‘You think the blog is just “playing at” writing?’ I asked. He was making my worries about breaking things off easier every time he opened his mouth.

‘Angela, honey, why are you getting all stressed?’ Tyler asked. Having finished my food and his, he crawled around to my side of the table and held my face in his hands. ‘I think you’re a very talented writer and I think this job is a fantastic opportunity for you. Now, why don’t we go and celebrate?’

For the want of an answer, I let him kiss me, but it was strange. I didn’t feel anything.

‘Tyler, would you still want to see me if I stayed in New York?’ I asked, breaking away.

‘Of course,’ he murmured into my hair, nuzzling my ear.

‘What if I went back to London?’ I asked, pulling away. ‘What if I went back to London but I wanted to keep seeing you. Do the long distance thing. Would you do that?’

‘I don’t know where all this is coming from,’ Tyler said, tensing slightly. ‘We’re having fun, aren’t we?’

‘Apparently you are,’ I said, pushing up off the floor and grabbing the plates off the table. I placed them on the kitchen counter. Maybe it was slightly more of a slam than a place. ‘So if I went back to England this would be over?’

‘Angela,’ Tyler stood up, ‘I don’t know what’s going on here. Aren’t we just supposed to be having a nice dinner?’

‘Yes, supposed to be. I suppose I just didn’t realize this wasn’t important to you at all.’

‘What the…’ he threw his hands in the air. ‘Like you’re serious about me? For fuck’s sake, you’ve been screwing some guy in Brooklyn while you’ve been screwing me, so don’t come over all “is this going anywhere?” with me.’

‘I’ve been…’ I trailed off. He’d been reading the blog. ‘Why didn’t you say anything if it was a problem?’

‘Because it wasn’t a problem.’ Tyler shook his head. ‘You’ve been seeing other people, so what? So have I. I see lots of other girls. Isn’t this what you were looking for when you ran away in the first place?’

‘I don’t know.’ He wasn’t actually wrong. ‘But it’s not what I’m looking for now.’

‘I don’t think you know what you’re looking for,’ he laughed, making for the door. ‘This is why I don’t do relationships, especially psycho rebound girls.’

‘Psycho rebound…’ I repeated. My God I was not going to miss him after all. Such a charmer.

‘You totally got what you were looking for out of this, Angela. You just wanted to fuck some hot guy to make you feel better about getting cheated on. It’s not my fault that you’re too scared to go back to Britain. I do not have time for this emotional “will I won’t I” bullshit.’

‘Emotional bullshit? You think this is emotional bullshit?’ I asked. Before he could escape, I positioned myself squarely between him and the door. ‘All right then, you may as well have all of it. You know what? Yes, I’ve been seeing someone else, but do you know why I kept seeing you?’

He looked away. The ceiling was apparently very interesting.

‘I kept seeing you because I thought you were nice. No, really! How stupid was I? And just so you know, it certainly wasn’t because you’re
so good
in bed that I couldn’t help myself, because it turns out there are a few things you could learn there.’

That got his attention.

‘Yeah, cause you were faking
that
,’ he sniffed.

‘One of the benefits of being a “psycho rebound girl”,’ I smirked right back. He didn’t need to know I was lying my arse off. ‘When you’ve been faking it for ten years, you get really fucking good at it.’

He shook his head, his lips set in a thin line. The last time all my frustrations had built up inside me like this, I’d practically ripped his clothes off in the street. Tonight I would settle for just ripping into him.

‘I thought you were charming, a bit cheesy, but basically a nice guy. God, I even felt bad about seeing you and Alex at the same time. Obviously, I didn’t realize you were seeing so very many “other people”. And even though I was going to dump you tonight, yes, I was, I was hoping you would want to be friends. But if my emotional bullshit is too much, you’d better just leave.’

He looked at me, shaking his head. ‘I don’t have to put up with this just to get laid,’ he said, pushing past me, out of the door.

‘And neither do I!’ I yelled after him, slamming the door right behind him.

For a long time after Tyler had gone, I stood completely still, absolutely furious. But I didn’t know who I was more angry at, Tyler or myself. He was right, I had been using him, so why was I so pissed off that he had been doing the same? If I did go back to London, it wouldn’t be Tyler I’d be lying awake at night thinking about. Finally freeing my feet, I picked up my mobile and dialled Alex. I just needed to talk to him.

But he wasn’t there. I couldn’t call Jenny, she was having her big romantic evening with Jeff. I thought about ringing Erin or Vanessa, but I didn’t really feel close enough to them. Instead I did what any confused, angry girl would do when the shops were closed. I opened another bottle of wine, I took the entire chocolate cheesecake out of the fridge, and I sat down in front of the TV. Sod the diet and pray that this season will favour the smock, I thought as I chowed down. By the time I couldn’t force another thing into my mouth, I’d eaten more than half of the cheesecake and drunk the entire bottle of wine. It wasn’t going to feel good in the morning, but the sugar-wine coma I was slipping into felt great at that moment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I was expecting to be woken by an overwhelming desire to vomit, but instead, it was a loud slam of the door on Saturday morning. I pushed myself up, peering over the back of the settee and praying it wasn’t burglars. Or murderers. Maybe burglars wouldn’t be so bad actually, I thought, cautiously peeping. It was neither. Instead of huge threatening men dressed in black, I saw a tiny, harassed-looking Jenny, dressed in her underwear and a man’s T-shirt. It was an interesting look for her, and one, and this was just a hunch, that was not attached to a happy story.

‘Jenny?’ I started cautiously. ‘You OK?’

‘We broke up,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes were fixed on something in the middle distance only she could see. ‘He dumped me. Again.’

‘What?’ I tried to stretch and move over as she stumbled around the room and collapsed onto the settee. If her fashion forward ensemble wasn’t weird enough, she absolutely reeked of booze. ‘You and Jeff broke up?’

‘He said he loves me but he can’t be with me.’ She screwed her face up, still staring straight ahead. ‘He said every time I leave he’s worried I might cheat again, and he doesn’t think he can live like that.’

‘But he loves you,’ I said, pulling her in for a hug, ‘and you love him.’

‘He says it’s not enough.’ Her voice was getting quieter and quieter. ‘He says he doesn’t trust me.’

‘God, Jenny, I’m sorry,’ I said, pulling her feet up underneath her. She was just like a ragdoll.

‘I thought he was going to ask me to move back in with him.’ She tried a smile. ‘I was so worried about how I was going to tell you I was moving out. But he doesn’t even want to see me, let alone live with me.’

‘But he loves you, it’s obvious to anyone,’ I said, trying to break through to her. I was getting scared by the glassy stare. ‘Maybe he just needs time to realize it.’

Jenny shook her head. ‘He’s had the time. He’s had all the fucking time in the world. I’m the one who’s been sitting here for the last year, my entire life on hold waiting for him to realize how much he needs me.’ A deep, loud sob escaped. ‘I can’t do it any more. I love him so much.’

‘Did you tell him that?’ I asked, relaxing my grip as she began to shake.

‘What do you think?’ she asked, covering her face with her hands. ‘He doesn’t fucking care. It’s all shit! He loves me too much? Fuck, he doesn’t even know what love is. If he did, he wouldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.’

‘I’m starting to think most blokes don’t get it at all,’ I sighed in agreement.

Jenny stared at me. Apparently not the right thing to say.

‘Are you serious?’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t sit here and listen to you cry about who you like, who you love, why your ex didn’t love you, again. It’s not all about you sometimes.’

‘That’s not what I was going to say,’ I tried to defend myself, to remember that she didn’t mean it when she got like this. ‘I was just going to say, even when you think they’re good guys, sometimes they’re not. Maybe that’s Jeff too. You’re too good for this Jenny.’

‘Fuck!’ she shouted. ‘There you go! It’s just not true, Angela. We go around talking all this shit about how men are all assholes and we’re poor little women, used and abused, but it’s just not true. Jeff doesn’t love me because I cheated on him. Your ex doesn’t love you because, fuck, I don’t even know, how could he? How can he love someone who doesn’t even like herself?’

‘This wasn’t about Mark,’ I said, standing up to leave. I had to get out of there before I said something I regretted. Before I couldn’t forgive her. ‘I was talking about Tyler actually. He turned out not to be such a nice guy after all.’

‘Who gives a fuck? You were only screwing him because he reminded you of your ex. Oh and yeah, he was really fucking rich,’ she carried on. I turned to watch her empty the remains of my wine into a mug and down it. ‘At least now you can get on with your little “I’m with the band” fantasy.’

‘I’m just not going to listen to this,’ I said, grabbing my bag from by the door. ‘I don’t have to. I don’t know how you dare put yourself across as this great person who really cares, who really wants to help people, when you can’t even help yourself.’

‘Why don’t you just run back home?’ Jenny waved me away. ‘And leave me and Alex and everyone else to our real lives. It’s been fun, but maybe, just maybe, when you get home, you’ll stop trying to be something you’re not. Had you thought about that, Angela? Maybe the reason you couldn’t work out who you wanted to be is because you’re already her. This dumbass indecisive fuck-up of a person
is
who you are. It’s who we all are, and the sooner you realize that, the better. I’m sick of holding your hand and waiting for you to work it out for yourself.’

I walked out and slammed the door for the second time. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed my phone and dialled.

‘Hello?’

‘Louisa?’

‘Angela?’

I was confused. I’d dialled my mum’s house, not Louisa’s.

‘Where’s my mum?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure I could cope with this.

‘She’s making tea, I just brought the wedding photos around on the way to tennis. I got them yesterday,’ Louisa said.

Just hearing her voice brought it all back. Not the wedding or Mark’s cheating, but my actual life. My twenty-seven years of life. She was having tea with my mum on a Saturday morning, looking at the wedding photos, at me in the wedding photos, as though none of the last three weeks had happened. And I guessed to them, most of it hadn’t.

‘Where are you, Angela?’ Louisa asked. She wasn’t shouting and she didn’t sound angry. ‘Your mum said you’re still in America.’

‘I’m in New York,’ I sat down on the bottom step of the staircase, ‘I’ve been here since…’

‘Gosh, doesn’t it seem like a long time ago,’ Louisa sighed. ‘I wish the honeymoon could have lasted longer…’

‘Louisa,’ I said slowly, ‘aren’t you pissed off with me?’

‘Pissed off with you?’ she asked, sounding shocked. ‘Aren’t you pissed off with me?’

I bit my lip and stared at the doorway, my eyes welling up fast. ‘But I ruined your wedding,’ I gasped, trying not to let the tears go all at once. ‘I am so sorry.’

‘Oh, Angela,’ Louisa sobbed, tears catching in her voice across the line. ‘Is that really what you’ve been thinking for three weeks? I thought you’d be angry with me. I’m the one in the wrong, I should have told you about Mark and that slag Katie as soon as I found out.’

‘Mum said he’s moved in with her,’ I whispered, pulling my knees up. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘I’ve seen them at the tennis club,’ Louisa said reluctantly. ‘But he knows what me and Tim think of him, we’re not exactly sharing a post-match drink. Oh, Angela, please don’t tell me you’ve been out there all on your own thinking I don’t care?’

‘I haven’t been on my own,’ I managed. ‘I’ve been staying with a friend, this girl I met, but I think I’m going to have to come back soon.’

‘Of course you’re coming home,’ Louisa said. Her voice was so familiar, yet it sounded foreign, I’d been immersed in American accents for such a long time now. ‘You can stay with us. We’ll look after you.’

‘I’ve been offered a job, on this new magazine,’ I said, trying to find some strong ground to stand on. ‘I’ve been doing some stuff for the website here, and they’ve offered me a staff writer job.’

‘There you go. It’s not all bad then is it? Why don’t you go and pack your bag and come back. Come back today, I could meet you at the airport tomorrow! I can’t stand thinking of you there, being upset on your own. Please Angela, I just want to know you’re all right. I just want to see you.’

‘I haven’t been on my own,’ I said again, looking out of the door, watching New York buzz by. ‘And I love it here. Honestly, I’ve actually been sort of OK.’

‘You don’t sound it, Angela,’ Louisa sighed. ‘Why don’t you call me when you’ve booked your flight. You know what we need, we need Ben & Jerry’s and
Dirty Dancing
.’

‘I’ve already done all that, Louisa.’ I shook my head, remembering why I had left in the first place. ‘Things aren’t perfect here, but just coming home won’t make everything better either.

‘Angela, you need your friends, listen to yourself!’ she replied. ‘What Mark did was bloody awful, and we’ll never forgive him for it, but you have to come home sooner or later. You can’t run away for ever.’

‘I don’t think you understand,’ I said, standing up and walking out into the almost fresh air. ‘I’m not running away. I was, when I left, I was, but now I’ve got some real opportunities here. Some really exciting things have happened.’

‘It always seems that way when you’re on holiday,’ Louisa was starting to talk to me as if I were drunk. Or five years old. It was frustrating. ‘But be real Angela, you’ve got to get on with life.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ I nodded, rounding the corner and looking up at the Chrysler Building. It still broke my heart, it was so beautiful. ‘But coming home wouldn’t be getting on with life, it would be going back to something I was unhappy with.’

‘Angela,’ Louisa was starting to get impatient. ‘I get it, you think you’ve put the Mark-cheating-on-you-thing behind you.’

‘Don’t tell me what I think,’ I said, my voice growing stronger. ‘And yes, Mark is a shit. If I ever see him again, I’m likely to try to castrate him, but what he did to me wasn’t nearly as bad as what I did to myself…’ I could almost hear Alex’s words coming out of my mouth. Fancy that. ‘I hadn’t been happy with him for years. He wouldn’t have looked at someone else if things were good between us. I should have left him, Louisa, but I was too scared. I wasted years of both our lives. Just pissed them away.’

‘But—’ Louisa tried to interrupt, but I wasn’t ready to stop.

‘And in the last three weeks, I feel like I’ve actually been living. Making good decisions, doing good things. If I came back now, what would happen?’

‘You’d be with people who love you and care about you,’ Louisa said. Her voice certainly didn’t sound like that of someone who loved and cared about me. I took a deep breath before I said anything else. Before I could, I heard the call waiting beeping quietly on the line.

‘I have to go, Louisa,’ I said, shielding my eyes and looking back up towards the apartment. I could see Jenny pressed up against the window, looking for me, her phone in her hand. ‘I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, but can you tell Mum I’m OK, and I’ll call on Monday?’

‘Angela, for God’s sake,’ Louisa sounded incredibly cross, ‘you’re living in a dream world. Wake up and come home’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I said, shrugging. ‘But I’ll know by Monday. Love you, Louisa, I’m glad you’re OK.’

Before she could start trying to talk me home again I hung up. Jenny had already rung off, and when I looked up at the window, she had vanished. I wasn’t ready to go back in there just yet, but I wasn’t ready to belly up and go back to London either. I needed somewhere to think.

For an hour I wandered the streets. Down, across, across, up, back down again. I didn’t even realize I’d arrived at the Empire State Building until I walked straight into the queue of people.

‘Watch where you’re bloody going,’ an unnecessarily fat British man tutted and sighed as I backed away with incoherent apologies. ‘Bloody Americans,’ he nodded to his companion, ‘they’re so bloody rude.’

Finding a tiny space outside a pharmacy on the corner of the street, I stared up at the building, but it didn’t offer any easy answers. Just memories forged from countless hours of TV and movie watching, spliced with scenes from my visit with Alex. Feeling choked by the crowd, I shook off the fug and turned on my ballet pump. Uptown. Up and out. For the first fifteen blocks, I thought I was heading to the park, but as I crossed over Fifth and onto Sixth, a different refuge came to mind. Hopefully one where I could fill my head with something other than the hamster wheel of questions that were tracking over and over.

Although it was still fairly quiet, it was a museum after all, MoMA was busier than it had been the last time I’d been there. I paid my $20 and hopped straight on to the escalator, travelling up to the fifth floor. I was surprised at the number of kids running around. Very cool parents, I thought to myself, although secretly wishing the very cool parents would scoop all of them up and take them across the road to FAO Schwarz. Even though there were dozens of people loitering, not one of them uttered a word to me as I sank down against the wall opposite
Christina’s World
and stared. I didn’t even cry. I just stared, losing myself in every last blade of grass. I ignored the curious whispers, although I did pull a bit of a face when one tit in a cagoule suggested to his girlfriend that I was a performance artist. Was I wearing a bear suit? I just shut it all out, every word of everyone. The people who were there, the people who weren’t. I shut out all of the advice, requested or otherwise, not one of them had told me anything I wanted to hear, but they were all right. Jenny was right, I
was
a big fuck-up, Louisa was right, I
had
run away, and Tyler was right, I really didn’t know what I wanted. But it was time to work it out.

An hour or a whole day could have passed before I eventually pushed myself up off the floor, it really didn’t matter. As I wiped away a few sneaky tears that had slipped out unnoticed and pulled my messy hair back into a ponytail, I spotted someone else having a good stare. There, leaning against the escalator, was Alex. He smiled sadly and raised a hand. I froze for a second, and then waved back, not knowing what else to do. He gave me a cool single nod and came over.

‘Hey,’ he said softly.

‘Hey,’ I replied. My voice sounded strange after being silent for so long. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Jenny called Jeff, Jeff called me, I called you, you didn’t answer,’ he said. ‘It’s a big long chain of people calling people until I figured out you might be here.’

‘Oh,’ I nodded. ‘Wait, Jenny called Jeff?’

‘She didn’t have my number, and I guess she thought you might have come over to mine,’ he explained. I couldn’t even begin to think how awful I must look. ‘She was worried about you.’