Falling in Love in New York (13 page)

Well, that was a mouthful!
“Cool,” she said, unable to think of any other reply. Still she adored finding out little facts like that and loved the fact that Phil was seemed just as excited about them as she was.

“Notice anything else out of the ordinary up there?” he asked then, which made her suspect there was more to come. She screwed up her eyes for a better look.

“Other than the back-to-front Zodiac and the lasers, I don’t think so.”

“How about that little dark blue patch over there?” He pointed to an irregular-coloured section of the mural on the right hand side, and as soon as she spotted it Abby’s eyes widened.

“I do see it! And what does that signify?” she asked, knowing that no doubt a ready explanation would be forthcoming.

“Well, when they did the renovation work on it back in the early nineties, they left a tiny patch of the old colour unpainted, as a reminder of how much work was actually done. It’s something like eighty-thousand square feet in here so that must have been a hell of a lot of painting.”

“I can imagine. “Abby shook her head in awe. “But I never would have noticed that only for you pointed it out. Not that I’d have noticed the Zodiac being backwards either; I’m no expert on that kind of thing.”

“Well, neither am I –someone else showed it to me initially, but I have to say I love little bits of trivia like that. It really gives a place character, doesn’t it?”

After that, he led Abby across the room and downstairs to the dining concourse and for a moment she thought he was taking her somewhere else to eat which was odd seeing as they’d finished lunch not long before. But instead, they moved past the various eateries and walked until they reached a particular spot amongst the room filled with low ceramic arches.

“Right, you stand there for a second,” he said, positioning Abby in a spot alongside one of the arches.

“O–K.” She smiled nervously unsure where this was going, but certainly interested in finding out.

Phil then pointed to another position in the opposite corner. “Now, I’ll stand over there, and when I give you the signal, I want you to whisper something into the corner.”

“Whisper?” Abby giggled at the mysteriousness of it all. “What will I say?”

“I don’t know. Anything you want. Just don’t make it anything
too
private,” he added, with a playful smile, leaving her wondering what on earth was going to happen. With that he took up a position in the opposite corner and a few seconds later, gave her the signal.

Intrigued but unsure what she was supposed to say, Abby took a deep breath and whispered the very first thing that came into her mind. “
Hot chocolate
.”

Across the way, she saw Phil smile, lean forward and whisper something into his own corner. And when she heard him reply
‘Hot chocolate? Great idea– let’s go get some’
in a voice that was as clear and loud as if he was standing right next to her, she drew back in delighted surprise.

“How on earth...?” Her eyes grew wide, and her smile broadened when he returned to her side.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Phil sounded mightily pleased with himself.

“It’s incredible!” she said laughing. “How do you
know
these things?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but Abby could tell that he was secretly chuffed by her delighted reaction. “I just do. Anyway, about that hot chocolate,” he added, giving her a mischievous wink. “You must have read my mind.”

The evening was just beginning to darken when they left Grand Central station, but to Abby this was something that only served to highlight the sheer magic of their next destination.

“So what do you reckon?” he said, as he and Abby sipped their respective takeaway hot chocolates and stared up at the biggest, brightest and most famous Christmas tree of them all.

It was, quite simply, breathtaking.
Ice-skaters swirled around the rink beneath it, while shoppers and sightseers stopped to stare and admire. Carol singers serenaded alongside its branches their voices climbing almost as high as the shining star on top, and children and adults alike were held rapt by the thousands of fairy lights that blanketed its limbs, glistening like fresh snow in the moonlight.

“It’s amazing,” Abby gasped, trying to take in the sheer size of the Rockefeller Centre Christmas Tree. While she’d known it would be something special, she hadn’t expected a simple Christmas tree to provoke such an emotional reaction. Not that there was anything simple about an eight-foot-high spruce lit up by tens of thousands of coloured lights. The tree was situated above a dramatic gilded statute, which overlooked the crowded ice-rink. On their way into the plaza, they’d passed by a gorgeous display of wire-sculpted trumpet-blowing angels, all lit up and magically illuminating the entire area, as well as the entranced faces of the children who stood watching them.

“What’s that statue?” she asked. No doubt he would know, Abby thought. When it came to New York, there seemed very little he
didn’t
know.

“It’s the Greek god Prometheus,” he said easily, before giving her a sideways look. “I studied a little Greek mythology in college, just in case you’re beginning to think I’m some kind of anorak.”

Abby smiled guiltily as she’d been thinking just that. “Well there’s certainly no denying you know your stuff, and I’m really glad I have you as my tour guide.”

Earlier they’d stopped off briefly to visit Sachs Christmas window display on Fifth Avenue, which had a completely different theme to the one Abby had seen earlier at Bergdoff Goodman’s, but with its winter wonderland exhibit, was just as impressive. 

Now Phil looked at his watch. “You said you needed to be back at your sister’s place by seven?”

“Yes.” Abby checked the time and to her surprise, realised that it was now five-thirty. With all the walking around they’d done the day had simply flown by but she was enjoying herself so much she now almost regretted having to rejoin the family.

“I’ll have to head back to JFK myself soon,” Phil said, “so let’s just do one more thing before we go.”

Abby nodded, happy to let him lead her once again.

Some twenty minutes and a seventy-storey elevator ride, she was glad she did.

The view from
the top of the Rockefeller Centre was astonishing. Seventy floors up and unobstructed for three hundred and sixty degrees the breathtaking New York landscape stretched for miles in every direction. A panoramic view of Central Park and the northern half of Manhattan as well as the city’s other famous landmarks were visible, including the Chrysler Building, Times Square, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Statue of Liberty. It was the most spectacular and magical view Abby had ever seen and standing on the observation deck so high above the bustling city, she felt an incredibly wonderful sense of peace–and on Christmas Eve this was especially powerful. Surprisingly given the time of year, there were very few other visitors around, which merely added to the stillness and quiet.

For Abby the air seemed to tingle with anticipation, and she felt a sense of wonder she hadn’t experienced since she was a young child waiting for Santa. There was something about this place that did that to you, something about Manhattan that took you back to those enchanting days of a childhood Christmas.

Tears came to her eyes as she and Phil stood silently taking in the view and Abby thought to herself that whatever might be going on in her brain at the moment, and whatever happened in the future, she would surely never, ever forget this. 

Eventually Phil spoke. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” he said softly.

Abby nodded, almost sorry that the spell had been broken. “It’s amazing,” she whispered, turning to look at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Are you OK?” he asked, concern in his eyes, which in this light appeared almost black.

“I’m fine,” she said, before adding quickly. “Well, at least I think I am.” Then just as quickly, she shook her head and smiled, unwilling to let thoughts of the future get her down. Especially not now. “Let’s just say that things have been a bit … weird for me lately and I really needed this.”

Phil seemed to know not to push the topic further. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said, before turning out again towards the vista of the city. “It’s a pretty special place, New York. I’ve been here many times, yet every time I come back I go away with another great memory.”

Abby smiled wistfully at his choice of words.

“But that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” he went on. “Enjoying life and gathering great memories.”

He was right, she realised suddenly; that expression ‘gathering great memories’ instantly capturing her imagination. But gathering memories–at least not any
great
ones–was something Abby hadn’t done in a very long time.

Once again she thought back to the way her life had been just before the accident, and how she’d had little to show for it other than heartbreak and misery. Where was all the fun and excitement– where were
her
great memories?

But worse, now that she’d realised this was, it too late to get out there and start looking for some? And even if she did seek out more experiences like this, would she be wasting her time seeing as she might not be able to hold onto them anyway?

But yet how could
anyone
forget something like this? Just then, Abby drank in the view from the observation deck as if she might never see it again, the pulsating, glittering city beneath a Christmas Eve sky, unable to imagine how something so wonderful could be forgotten.

No, Abby thought, the realisation hitting her like a bolt from the blue; she was going to beat this memory thing, she
had
to beat it. Because as Phil had pointed out earlier, what good was life without moments like this?

***

Shortly afterwards, she and Phil reluctantly returned to ground level, Abby sorry that their enjoyable jaunt around the city had to come to an end.

“I think I’ll walk back, actually,” she said, when Phil went to hail her a cab. While she was here she wanted to take in as much atmosphere as she could and sitting in the back of a stuffy old cab wouldn’t achieve that.

“You will not!” Phil scolded. “It’s not safe to be wandering the streets at night on your own, Christmas Eve or not. But if you insist,” he said capitulating somewhat, “then at least let me walk you.”

“But you’ve got to get back too!” she protested, but he quickly waved her objections away.

“There’s loads of time left, and I can easily get a cab afterwards.”

“You’re sure?” Despite herself, Abby got a surreptitious kick out of the notion of him walking her back, but at the same time, she really didn’t want to delay him even further, or worse cause him to miss the flight completely.

“Honestly, there’s loads of time. And it’s Christmas Eve for me too, remember, so any excuse at all to stay away from the madhouse that is JFK!”

“Well, OK then.”

On the way back, and to Abby’s utter surprise and delight, the two of them came across some street-sellers actually offering freshly roasted chestnuts. God, this place really was Christmas personified she thought, while Phil paid the man for the small tub she wanted.

Munching on warm chestnuts, the two of them made their way back along the streets, chatting easily about this and that. Phil was so funny, not to mention
very
attractive, and as she walked alongside him, Abby again couldn’t help notice how relaxed and at ease she felt in his company. It was something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time, and while she knew today was a complete fluke and once-off, she was glad that fate–or whatever it was–had arranged their meeting to remind her that despite her recent worries, there was still plenty about life to be enjoyed. 

Finally, they stopped outside Claire’s building.

“Well, here we are,” she said, suddenly feeling a little awkward. It was weird, but now that she knew Phil would soon be leaving, she was very reluctant to say goodbye to him. “Thanks for a really brilliant day.”

“I enjoyed it too,” he said, smiling, “ and it was a pleasure showing you around.”

Then, their gazes met, and as she gazed back into those incredible, fathomless dark eyes, she realised she was having difficulty catching her breath.

“So would you like to come in for a while or …?” she murmured, feeling wrong-footed and awkward all of a sudden. She knew he wouldn’t have the time, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Let alone the fact that her family would probably go apoplectic at the notion of her bringing home some stranger she’d met in Central Park!

As expected Phil shook his head. “Thanks but I’d really better get going,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face. “Enjoy the rest of the night–especially St Patrick’s. I’ve been to Midnight Mass there a couple of times and it really is something special. Oh, and while you’re tucking into your turkey, don’t forget to spare a thought for me and a hundred others cooped-up in some tin can flying somewhere over the Atlantic!”

“I will.” Abby grinned, unwilling to admit that she wasn’t exactly enamoured of the prospect of getting on of those same tin cans in a few days time. And she figured she’d be sparing more than just one thought for him after this. “Well!” she said, again strangely reluctant to see him leave, “have a lovely Christmas when you get back home Phil, and thanks again for showing me around.”

“It was a pleasure. Merry Christmas, Abby.”  Then, quite unexpectedly, he reached forward and gave Abby the softest, gentlest kiss on the forehead. The pure tenderness of the gesture touched her more than a kiss on the lips could ever have, and when Phil stepped back, she looked again into those amazing dark eyes and smiled.

“Merry Christmas,” she croaked in reply.

“Oh, and by the way,” he called back a smile in his voice, before finally retreating into the darkness, “my name is Finn.”

“For goodness sake, where have you been?” Teresa’s worried tones assaulted Abby almost as soon as she was in the door of Claire’s apartment.

She took off her coat and scarf, her cheeks flushed and forehead still tingling with the imprint of his kiss,
Finn
’s kiss. Not Phil’s like she’d thought. Abby couldn’t believe she’d been calling him the wrong name all day! God, he must have thought she was a right eejit!

“I was out and about,” she replied mildly, although inside she was walking on air.

“You mean you were wandering around the place all day?” Her mother continued her questioning, baby Caitlyn in her arms

“Yep,” Abby went to say hello to the baby before stepping past her mother and through to Claire’s front room, which, like the rest of New York, was looking beautifully sparkly and festive. The dining table was all set up and decked out in a crisp white cotton tablecloth upon which sat a gorgeous centrepiece of fresh holly and berries amid elegant gold candelabra. A selection of black and gold-coloured La Maison du Chocolat crackers lay elegantly alongside each table setting.

“Wow, this looks incredible Claire,” Abby said to her sister, who was bustling in and out of the kitchen getting things ready. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, it’s all pretty much done now,” Claire replied pleasantly, pausing for a second to mop her brow. “Did you enjoy your day out? It certainly looks like it!” she added grinning.

“Does it? How?”

“Well your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks are really flushed, although I suppose that could be the cold. Either way, you must have enjoyed it–you were out long enough. So what did you get up to?” Claire repeated, polishing Louise Kennedy crystal champagne flutes and putting them on the table. “Actually, no don’t tell me, everything’s pretty much ready to go here now, so why don’t we wait until dinner to catch up on everything.” She glanced at her watch. “I hope Caroline and Tom make it back from Woodbury on time–I did tell everyone seven-thirty, didn’t I?”

Almost as if on cue, there came a high-pitched voice from the hallway.

“Hi everyone, Santa’s arrived!” Up to her armpits with shopping bags of every designer brand imaginable, Caroline bustled into the living room–a beleaguered looking Tom in tow. “Guys we’ve had the most
amazing
day, and Claire, you’ll just
die
when I show you the baby bling I picked up for Caitlyn.
Fabulous
gold Dior bootees that will look so cute on, and a gorgeous Marc Jacobs babygro …”

Abby and Clare exchanged a glance.
Baby bling?