Page 84 of Break the Ice

‘Hey, Mr Joshua. Looking sharp!’ she tells me, and comes over. She puts her hands over my shoulders and slides her fingers over my lapels. ‘I like the detail on those buttons, nice,’ she says. She’s incredibly close. She turns my body so she can see it from all angles. She then turns her back to me. ‘Can you do my zip? Cheers…’ There is something about the way she is so incredibly comfortable around me that is reassuring but also scares me a little. I mean, I’ve seen it all really when it comes to her, and that has never fazed her. I join the fabric together and my fingers brush the skin of her back, as I do up the zip and attach the little hook and eye at the top. I sigh a little, and tap her shoulders to let her know I’m done. She turns around and poses again. ‘What do you think? Classy enough for you, kind sir?’

‘You look…’ I can’t quite find the word. Ethereal. Beautiful. ‘Very elegant. It’s very art deco, it goes with the store.’ I don’t think that was a very good compliment, to compare her to a big department store, but she smiles broadly.

‘And what do you think, Burt?’ Phoebe asks as one of the retail clerks puts his head around the corner of the changing room. Burt and I know each other intimately as he only recently measured my inseam and possibly slapped my ass. There’s an old-school classic New Yorker vibe to him. You just know he, his healthy sideburns and the tape measure he wears around his neck will live and die by this store.

‘What did I tell ya? The slim fit with the shawl collar and a necktie gives it a more modern twist. Looking good, kid,’ he says, then comes up to me and puts two fingers into my waistband. ‘Shoulders fit nice. But give me those trousers and we’ll do some alterations to make them sit perfect,’ he adds. ‘And you, pretty lady. That is some dress. You make a very handsome couple. Look at you.’ Phoebe comes and slips an arm through mine, standing straight. ‘You look like the figurines on a wedding cake. You sure you two aren’t eloping?’

Phoebe doubles over, laughing. ‘No…’

I try not to act offended as she elbows me.

‘I guess I saw the white and thought different,’ Burt says, studying my expression.

‘We’re off to some ritzy New Year’s ball,’ Phoebe says. ‘We’re just the very best of friends, aren’t we, Joshua?’

I nod. If we can call it that. It’s like a friendship that’s sprung up out of nowhere, maybe in the most surprising of ways.

‘Well, that all sounds very nice. I hope you have a perfect evening. So what are we thinking? Can I ring this all up?’

I turn to look in the mirror at my reflection again as Phoebe rests her head on my shoulder, looking the same way. ‘Super handsome, matey. That Avery will take one look at you and kick herself for ever letting you go. Ring it up, Burt!’ she announces, throwing her hand in the air, before turning her back to me. ‘Unzip me, kiddo. Those cupcakes are calling to me.’

I push her hair out of the way and unzip her to reveal her back again, and she holds the dress to her and shuffles back to her cubicle.

I look over at the cubicle for a moment and then back to Burt, who stands there smiling. He comes over to pick some fluff off my lapel. ‘She’s quite the chica, eh?’ he says.

‘That’s one way of putting it.’

‘Who’s Avery?’ he asks, following me into the cubicle and taking my jacket from me.

‘You’ve got a good ear, Burt,’ I tell him, undoing my tie.

‘Well, my money’s on the Brit. Been working here thirty-five years now – I know a sure thing when I see it,’ he says, in a whisper so she won’t be able to hear.

‘She said to ring it up, Burt. We are going to buy everything, you don’t need to push your sales tactics any more,’ I say, smiling as I undo my buttons.

‘This is no sales tactic, pal. You two belong. I saw the way you were looking at her,’ he says, winking.

‘I wasn’t!’ I protest. ‘To be honest, I don’t even know the girl that well. We met through strange circumstances, things have literally snowballed in the past few days…’

‘Snowballed, I like what you did there, buddy,’ he says, laughing. ‘Just saying, she’s got good energy, like that song,’ he says, clicking his fingers, obviously trying to remember it… ‘“Isn’t She Lovely”. You like Stevie Wonder?’

I turn to him sharply.

‘Something I said, pal?’ he asks.

I pause but smile warmly.

‘No. That’s a good song, that’s all. One of his best.’

THIRTY-NINE

PHOEBE

‘So I took some tourist pics in Times Square, I’ve got in a yellow cab, I had a red velvet cupcake. We had these giant pastrami sandwiches for lunch and did a carriage ride in Central Park,’ I tell Joshua’s parents and Maddie as we walk down Seventh Avenue. It’s been a busy busy day but so full of energy and life and schlong-sized pickles. Except I’m learning that it’s bad form to say that out loud in the middle of a crowded deli. In Bloomingdale’s, I even got extra of their famous brown paper bags because a shop assistant called Burt took a liking to me. And to my absolute shame, I made Joshua stop at the NBA shop and I bought a lot. I believe back home what I’m wearing tonight makes me a full-kit wanker – from my cap to my jersey, I’m a vision in royal blue and tangerine.

‘Hold up,’ Joy, Joshua’s mother, says. ‘Joshua doesn’t do horses. He’s scared of them.’

‘That’s so true,’ Maddie says, far more subtle than me in just the baseball cap. ‘Remember that time at camp and that horse chased you?’