New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)

Chapter Twenty Six

 My train arrived in London, Liverpool Street just before nine O’clock that same evening – managing to push my way through the crowds, I held onto the map I had printed out earlier.

'Excuse me - do you have any idea where this road is?' I asked the tall uniformed man standing in front of me.

Looking mildly irritated, he scanned the map.  ‘Right, if you turn left, then right, then left, it should be at the corner. '

‘Okay, thanks.’ I said, non – the wiser.

Once outside the station, I spotted a crowd of students chatting away to each other as they puffed on their Marlboro lights. Each had at least two visible piercings and pixie cut hairdos – from what I could hear they were talking about some girl called Monica who had been sacked from Toni & Guy’s for mixing the dye incorrectly – the tallest of the bunch found this a lot funnier than the rest as she let out the loudest scream I had ever heard.

Fifteen minutes later and I was still walking around dumbfounded and by this point absolutely freezing. I eventually asked a young couple and luckily they knew exactly where I needed to go.

Now heading in the right direction, the realisation of what I was about to do panicked me – he’ll think I’m crazy and maybe he’d even have a point but I needed to know if he meant what he said in the library.

After a few more turns - I looked up and saw St. Miles Avenue – I had finally reached my destination. Opening the green gate, I walked up the garden path and  it was official - I had lost my marbles.

 The number four was carved out in gold and was stuck to the wall next to the royal blue door. I couldn’t see if there were any lights on inside, in fact the whole place looked as if it were in complete darkness.

 I knocked once and then again but there wasn’t a sound. I wasn’t giving up now, I had come this far and psyched myself up to the point of cardiac arrest and I was determined to get some kind of an answer.

‘Ethan! It’s me, Lucy. Are you there?’ I shouted through the letterbox.

I walked around the side of the house and spotted a small alleyway that led onto the back garden.

 And it wasn’t long before I was blinded by a torch light shining right onto my face.

'Who's there?'

Struggling to see, I held both hands up to block out the light. ‘I’m looking for Ethan?’

'Well, you’re outta luck. He’s gone.’ Said a woman’s voice, I could tell by her tone she was an elderly lady.

'Gone where?'

'Who are you?'

'A friend, I’m a friend of his.’

'I thought you were a burglar, you’re lucky I didn’t call the police.’

'Sorry I startled you. Can you please tell me where he is?’

'He had to go back to New York. Something about work, I don't know. He trusts me to keep an eye out for any strange goings on, when he's not here.'

 ‘Sorry for disturbing you. It won’t happen again.’

The walk back to the station was torture –some fate - I thought to myself.

Feeling so small I could’ve probably high – fived a grasshopper, I got onto the packed train and managed to find a spare seat by the window, I swallowed hard as I choked back the tears knowing this was going to feel like the longest journey of my life.

 The train stopped to allow more passengers on, and as the doors slid open, I noticed a poster with nothing else on it but the words 'Make it happen.'

I stared at it for as long as it took people to get on and off, and before I knew it was plunged back into the darkness of an underground tunnel.

Dipping my hand inside my coat pocket, I pulled out Ethan’s business card, rubbing my fingertips against the edges I focused on the black bold writing, and in particular the address in America.

In a crazy way, it all seemed to make sense – Fozoli’s dream, the letter E that stood out in the tea leaves all those months ago..

Call it madness - call it whatever you like, but it was at that moment I knew exactly what I had to do.