New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)

Chapter Twenty Three -

Holding the itinerary inside my wet palm, I walked over to the checkout and handed the heavily made – up attendant the soggy piece of paper.

She smiled at me politely, unravelling the wet mess before giving me a quick nod. I still had a few minutes to kill and I was both happy and choked Fozoli had decided to see me off.

'Bottom’s up.’ She said, handing me yet another shot.

'Cheers.'

'How are you feeling?’                                      

'Nervous, regret, dread, all those wonderful feelings you get when you realise you are completely and utterly off your trolley.’

'Ahh, you’ll be fine.’

The voice eventually came over the speaker phone – We hugged one last time, and I promised to call her as soon as I arrived home. I didn’t turn around to see if she was looking back at me – but her last words played over in my mind – ‘remember my dream Luce.’

It was a typical, British, New year's eve.

More alcohol than food and badly put up decorations draped along the walls looking more like colourful cobwebs – Although I’m sure a spider could do a much better job.

Mom rushed around, adding the finishing touches to the Vodka jelly while Dad hogged the bathroom applying endless lashings of Old Spice.

I didn't make too much of an effort as it was only close family and friends invited, despite Mom's tireless efforts to make me into a dazzling princess.

The first to arrive was Mr and Mrs Dangleberry. The smiley couple who lived across the street – maybe replace smiley with ‘swinger’s instead and it’ll give you a much better picture, yep the whole keys-in-a-bowl thing – they totally dug it.

Of course they did their utmost best to conceal it with talk of their children's private schooling, and 'little Jerry' completing his dissertation, in political studies, but it was there, hidden in their ravenous eyes.

I spent most of the night just keeping up appearances, but secretly couldn't wait for the clock to strike twelve.

The party was in full swing when I heard the doorbell again.

'Alex?’

'So, it is true you are back?'

'It would seem so.’

'Meet Megan, Megan this is Lucy.' He put his arm around - ‘Megan’ - the eight foot brunette towering above him, me and well, nearly the house too.

'Good to meet you Megan.’ I said, extending a hand shake.

'Your parents invited us, I hope that’s okay?’

'Of course, come in, come in!’

They both walked into the hallway and I watched as Alex helped Megan out of her coat. 

It was surreal, in a good way of course, but it was certainly strange observing your ex – fiancée with his new squeeze. But good on him for moving on – even if I did think he was a bit of a smug moron.

Alex walked straight over to my Dad and they did the whole pat on the back, shaking the hand thing – I, of course was left with the giant, I mean Megan.

 'He's great, isn't he?' She gushed.

'He certainly is.’

'So,’ she said, letting her black shawl drop a little further down her shoulder. ‘You're Lucy.’

'I was the last time I checked.’

‘Hmm.. I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘Good things I hope?’

Alex gestured for her to go and join him - reciprocating with a long manicured finger she flicked her long dark hair to one side and walked away. ‘Not really.’ She whispered before gliding off.

 Walking over to the table of drinks, and much to my dismay, I could see Alex making his way towards me.

 'Try this one.’ He said, pointing at a bottle.

'I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Here, let me.’ He unscrewed the cap, and poured some wine into a glass.

'You’re so kind.’

We both sipped and as annoying as it was, Alex was always right about these things – – He was  always a complete and utter wine snob.

'So what brings you back to these shores?’

'A change of career, didn’t Mom mention that?’ I smiled.

'No she didn’t actually. What kind of change?’ His dark blue eyes shimmered each time he spoke and all I kept thinking was how much of a shame it was that he was so unbelievably anal about most things in life – if ever there was ever a guy lacking any kind of spark or spontaneity it was Alex – a big deal – breaker for me.

'I’m becoming a writer.’

'That’s amazing, Luce! Really amazing.’

'Thanks. So what about you? Megan seems nice?’

'She is - she’s great. And totally into marriage, kids and the whole white picket fence thing.

‘I’m really happy for you.’

'So, are you not dating anyone?’

‘Not at the moment, I never have any time what with the big career change and all.’

There was a short silence as we both sipped and scanned the room. 'I heard you were working over at Trask in the US?'

'Yes, I was.’ I gulped. ‘Do you know of them?’

'They’re a client of mine - I know a few of the guys there really well.’

'Like who?’

'Let me see, there’s Simon, a guy called Ben and Ethan.’

‘Ethan, you know Ethan?’

'Sure, I do, In fact the bank are running a sponsorship with them that I’m project managing, I think a few of the guys are flying over next week.’

'Flying over here?’

'That’s what I just said.’

Slamming the glass onto the table – I fought with the small crowd in front of me – my chest felt tight and I was struggling to breathe.

Just lie down and you’ll be fine, I told myself as I climbed into bed. It wasn’t long before the clock struck twelve and It was officially 2011.

And so far, I was pretty doomed.