Page 103 of Break the Ice

I smile and nod. ‘I would love a walk, kind sir. Definitely.’

FORTY-EIGHT

JOSHUA

‘What are you wearing?’ I ask Phoebe as she appears at the hotel entrance. ‘You just told me you were going to the bathroom. Did you steal those?’

‘No, I asked the concierge and they let me in their lost and found. These were in there, completely new and unworn.’ I look down to her newly acquired black-and-white Jordans. ‘I’m not going on a walk in heels with all this ice around, are you mad?’

‘And the fur coat?’ I ask her. ‘You look like a…’

‘Pimp? How rude. Yeah, that was in there too. It’s not real. I checked,’ she says, swishing it round.

I laugh. ‘Someone could have died in that.’

‘Joshy, it’s the Waldorf, not a hospital. I think it’s giving “Jenny from the Block” vibes myself. Plus, I stole these party packs, look!’ She opens one of them. It includes party blowers, streamers, a party hat and a fetching Statue of Liberty foam crown.

‘Looking fly, Miss Phoebe,’ comes a voice from behind us, and T appears. He walks over to fist-bump Phoebe and she sticks her tongue out at me. ‘Everything OK in there, Josh? Why we all leaving?’

‘It’s just a shit party, Trayvon,’ I say. ‘The vibe is not it.’

He laughs. ‘Lenny just took your folks but you want me to drop you back? Take you on somewhere else?’

‘We’re good. We’re gonna take a stroll, I think. Could you wait for Maddie? Actually, go in, check she’s not getting into too much trouble too, yeah?’ I say, and shake his hand.

I don’t know why he’s grinning at me like that. ‘Happy New Year, T.’

‘You too, lovely people. It’s gonna be a good one, I can tell,’ he says, rubbing his hands together.

He goes into the hotel, leaving Phoebe and me standing there. She gazes up at the night sky, always looking up and I think about what she told me at that bar earlier. Always with so many words, but, sometimes, she finds just the right ones.

‘Shall we?’ I ask her, looping an arm out for her to hold on to.

‘We shall. C’mon Americano. Show me your fine city.’ The pavements are still icy, mounds of snow everywhere, but that silence has gone; it’s New Year’s Eve so the revellers are out in force, the streets a cascade of light and sound. Literally no weather will stop a New Yorker from celebrating the dawn of a new year. I will admit, it’s nice walking next to her because that fur coat is exuding warmth. It’s like walking next to a small bear. I look over at Phoebe glancing up at the streetlights hanging down, the size of the buildings, all that light reflected in her eyes. All the while her phone is out.

‘What are you taking a picture of?’ I ask her as she stops in the middle of the street.

‘It’s a Chipotle,’ she says.

‘You want Mexican food? After all that shrimp you told me you ate?’ I say.

‘I’m just taking a picture, indulge me,’ she says, jogging a little to catch up with me. ‘So what’s the plan, Stan?’ she asks.

‘We fill in the gaps. We look at things. We escape,’ I tell her, pointing up to the night sky now filled with stars.

‘Will there be hot drinks?’

‘Yes,’ I tell her, my feet crunching down on the snow.

She looks down at her phone and smiles. ‘Hey, look, all the gang say hi. New Year has already hit London.’ She shows me a photo of her siblings, all at a restaurant, having a meal. It’s a big selfie, full of smiles and life and there, in the corner, our good friend, Steve, smiling, his tail mid-wag. ‘That’s the family restaurant. You’ll have to come when you get back…’ She hesitates just as we reach the back of St Patrick’s Cathedral, looking splendid against the snow. ‘Just checking that you are coming back, right?’

I sense some worry in her eyes. ‘Well, the circumstances of my fellowship demand it,’ I tell her. ‘And a lot of my stuff is still there.’

She smiles. ‘I don’t know. I thought maybe being back home, with your bagels and your Knicks, you may have been tempted back.’

‘Not yet,’ I tell her. I urge her to cross the road as we move from Park Avenue through to Fifth, weaving around the cabs and people, hearing the low hum of my city. It’s tourist central here, the flags and tall buildings overwhelming, competing for sky and space.

‘Why is it so busy?’ she asks. The pavements are filling fast, hundreds of partygoers, wearing their big hats and party glasses, blowing on party horns, the faint sound of party music and the whining feedback from loudspeakers in the background.