Page 81 of Break the Ice

‘Right?’ I say, nodding. ‘I’ll report back when I know more. How’s Steve?’

‘I went to see him today, took him for a walk. Ben’s been great with him. He’s a very good boy, eh?’

‘The best,’ I reply, realising how much I miss him. ‘Right, I want to get up and make up for lost time.’

‘No dairy. Pace yourself.’

‘Never,’ I reply. ‘Love you, BYYYYEEEEE!’

I hang up, realise the room is cold and pull up some of those extra blankets over me and around my head, looking at beams of light filtering in through the curtains. I didn’t really have a chance to do it yesterday so now I peer around Joshua’s room, looking for clues, ideas about who this man might be. There is a lot of plaid, a noticeboard over the desk, a half-open drawer to show me he balls up his socks neatly and a sports pennant hanging on the wall.

The door suddenly opens and Joshua is there, balancing a tray in his hands, peering around to see if I’m awake.

‘You’re up?’ he asks. ‘I heard voices.’

‘My sister, checking if I was alive. Morning… you’re all dressed and stuff,’ I add, looking at him in his jeans and hoodie, freshly showered and his hair styled. With these blankets wrapped around me, I must look like ET’s hungover grandma in comparison.

‘I am. You really sleep through anything, don’t you? Wanna see something cool?’ he asks.

‘Always.’

He puts down the tray and opens the curtains so I can see that snow has fallen in New York overnight and continues to fall. I can feel my face lighting up to see it through the glass panels of the doors, the brightness of it, the way it falls in swathes on to the small courtyard behind the house. ‘Joshua! It’s snowing!’ I say in a childish voice. ‘Shit, that’s heavy.’

‘Yeah, it’s supposed to stop in an hour though. Cool, eh?’ We both look out of the window, listening to the silence of it as it settles. ‘Anyway, it didn’t stop my mom going out and getting bagels. How’s your stomach feeling?’

‘Better. Bagels will make it happy, I think,’ I say, peering over at the tray he’s just brought in. ‘I think I just overdid it. I forget I’m a teensy bit lactose intolerant and my eyes are bigger than my stomach.’

He nods. ‘Well, I just brought some cinnamon raisin and plain, just buttered. And coffee, I know you like your coffee,’ he says. He puts the tray down on the bed and sits with me, offering me a bagel and then biting into one himself.

‘Is this breakfast in bed? This is fancy. I like this service,’ I say, removing my blankets from my head, my hair springing out as I do so.

‘I thought you were still sick so I wanted to ease you into your day.’

‘Not sick, just greedy.’

‘Understood.’

I bite into one plain bagel, smothered in melted butter, and sigh a little at how lovely, savoury and warming it is. ‘Joshua, this is a good bagel,’ I say a little sadly.

‘I know. These beat those ones in your British supermarkets hands down, right?’ he says.

‘Sadly, yes. My sisters would love these. I may have to bring some back. Can you imagine, I could bring back a suitcase of bagels!’ I say. He creases his brow. I don’t think he always gets my plans, despite how amazing they are. ‘So what do we have on the agenda for today? Can we walk in the snow? Can we go in one of those horse-drawn carriages?’

I think a lot of Josh’s creased brow comes from how quickly I’ve bounced back, especially since I was supposedly dying yesterday. ‘We can look at the snow. I’ll take you to Central Park for a stroll.’ I clap my hands excitedly, shuffling my shoulders from side to side. ‘My parents also have Knicks tickets for this evening and would like you to come.’ I like how he says this sheepishly, like he’s asking me out but not.

‘Josh! YES! Oh my life, how exciting!’

‘It is?’ he replies.

‘Yeah, that’s so sweet they asked me,’ I say, giddy with glee at the thought of attending something so New York and iconic. ‘It’ll be awesome – why the face?’

He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I thought you might like to do something cooler like go to one of those raves in a warehouse you’re always thinking happens around here. I didn’t want you to feel obliged to spend time with the family, that’s all.’

I laugh. ‘Don’t be daft. They’re lovely and I’ve been raised to respect my hosts. I wasn’t just going to do the big tourist thing, piss off and use your gaff as a hotel,’ I tell him. ‘I’m also here to spend time with you.’

‘With me?’

‘Well, yeah? I could have Instagram show me round this place but better a real authentic New Yorker does it, right?’