Page 75 of Break the Ice

‘Of course it’s OK! I’ll assume you’re bunking in with Joshy?’ she asks.

‘It’s OK, Mom. I’ve made up the spare bed for her,’ I tell her.

‘I won’t have that. We’re not conservative people, let her stay in your room with you.’

I see Phoebe looking down and giggling as my mom slaps me again with that takeout menu, widening her eyes at me to tell me to allow this girl into my bedroom. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. I’ll just have to get you some towels. Seriously, Joshua – had I known, I could have done all of this in advance. I don’t even have a Christmas gift for you!’ she squeals. She seriously needs to dial it down a little.

‘Don’t be silly. Staying here is gift enough. But please accept these gifts as a token of my gratitude. I went with a British vibe, some tea and shortbread…’ She hands over some small parcels from her tote and my mom receives them, beaming, not at all flummoxed at how she has to root through a layer of receipts like animal bedding at the bottom of said tote.

‘And I was hoping we could wing her an invite to the Pattons’ New Year’s party?’ I say. I don’t know why my face is all screwed up when I say this.

‘Of course, I’ll ring Inga in the morning. What’s one more?’ She watches as Phoebe shakes out her hair and looks around the house with the biggest grin on her face. ‘Are you OK with Chinese too?’ she says, waving the menu around.

‘Is the Pope American?’

My mom cackles with delight at that joke. ‘I believe he is,’ she says and then throws her arms around Phoebe and hugs her tightly again, doing a strange dance with her feet. I’m so glad she’s doing this with Phoebe who doesn’t mind at all. ‘Joshua, you brought a girl all the way from England.’

Well, I didn’t. She kinda flew herself. My mom winks at me from over Phoebe’s shoulder and I shake my head. Don’t do that, Mom. But there’s also another look coming over her face. I think it may be relief.

THIRTY-FIVE

PHOEBE

There have been few times where I’ve been lost for words. I think the first was when Norah had a baby and I sobbed because that baby was made by my amazing sister. This little human with hair and eyes and small toes like peanuts and the love flooded over me like a tsunami. I am your Aunty Phoebs! I will adore you for ever! Welcome to life and all its infinite wonders.

But there was a point earlier on today where we were driving in from JFK airport, after endless, vast expressways and low-rise buildings, when the skyline of Manhattan came into view and I swear, I put my palms to the glass like a little girl and just watched it rise out of the horizon. Absolute cinema. I felt like I knew it intimately and I immediately wanted to be swallowed up by it, to experience it all. By the time we drove out of the Queens–Midtown tunnel, we were in the city’s belly. New York, I am in you. Take me. I felt like fucking Spider-Man as we dashed through the streets at speed and I watched her fly past the window. It was then I found my words – they were mainly expletives and just shouting out the names of roads and shops in my crap American accent, much to Trayvon and Lenny’s amusement, but I am sure it will become a core memory.

‘I look like a tourist. I know. I am sorry,’ I tell Joshua, who is having to wait for me at every half block as I look around and up at all the things that are different. We stood for a full minute at the traffic lights earlier so I could take pictures of the steam rising from the drain covers. ‘Is it more likely we’ll get mugged if I look like a tourist?’ I ask him.

‘No, but we’ve only covered two blocks since we left my house. It’ll just mean we won’t get where we need to go,’ he says, grinning. Joshua looks different here. He looks at home, and I love how his floppy brown curls hang from his beanie, how the glow of the streets lights up his face. All his usual tension melts off him back home and I love that for him.

I thread my arm through his because the pavements are starting to ice over from the cold. ‘So where are we going? Is it far? I feel bad we didn’t stay at your house after the Chinese. I feel like I’m taking you away from your family,’ I tell him.

‘Phoebe, I couldn’t get a word in edgeways over the Chinese. In between you screaming that the food came in those small takeout boxes and my parents and Maddie grilling you for every life detail, it felt wise to put some space there.’

My laughter makes the air fog in clouds. ‘Sorry. I’m still indulging in the novelty of it all.’

‘Says she who would roll her eyes at me for getting excited about your dad’s little English cottage,’ he tells me jokingly. I stick my tongue out at him. But in all honesty, it feels nice to plant Joshua somewhere, in this gorgeous American family of his, in his brownstone, to hear his stories. It gives him a hugely likeable realness. I look over at him and sneak a photo against the night sky. That’s a good jawline, Joshua. He sees me pointing my phone at him and grimaces. ‘Really?’

‘You look cute!’ I tell him, showing him the pic. ‘It’s because you stopped. Why have we stopped? This weather dictates to me that we should try and keep moving…’ I say, jogging on the spot.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘It’s because we’re here.’ He points to a small shop behind him and I look at the sign. Serendipity 3. Oh my. Seriously? My jaw slackens and I point to the sign and then back to him. This is the place from the film. It’s a small shopfront, the signage and small railings sleek and elegant in black and the windows glowing with activity. He brought me here?

‘JOSHUA!’ I say, throwing my arms around him.

Passers-by stop to laugh. I have overreacted like he’s just proposed, but I think that is the theme of my trip thus far.

‘Phoebe, it’s a restaurant. They do⁠—’

‘MEGA HOT CHOCOLATE!’ I scream in a strange Godzilla-style tone.

Joshua stops to hear my growling. ‘They do. And you love hot chocolate.’

I push him playfully. ‘You remembered?’

‘Because it was only two days ago.’

I grin and pull him by his arm towards the door. Inside, it’s a wonderful mix of colours and lights, a sort of indoor fairytale with twinkling Christmas lights to catch the eye, brightly bold posters, plants and stained-glass Tiffany lamps adding to the magic.