Page 15 of Meet Me In Central Park

‘That would be a waste of a great pie, but luckily I’m ready to go. We can swing by here afterwards and pick everything up to go to the Community Center.’ Rob took hold of Dannie’s hand and the three of us headed out on to the street. I was about to experience my first ever Thanksgiving, and I already felt as though I had more to be thankful for than I’d had in a very long time.

* * *

It seemed as if half of America had turned out on the streets of New York to watch the parade. A lot of the crowds were heading towards Sixth Avenue, but there were plenty of people going in the same direction as us, and I wondered if we’d even manage to meet up with the others.

As it was, they were easy to find. Madison had obviously decided to tie in with the theme of the hat she’d leant me and was dressed as an elf, but not with oversized ears or trousers that stopped at the knee. She was wearing shorts, with less material than my hat, and stripy red and white tights that made her legs look like they went all the way to her chin. I had to admit she looked stunning, even if it did make me feel ancient. Paula, Abbie and Karly were there, too. Even the pugs had put in an appearance, although they looked as though they’d rather be back snoring on their sofa in the Community Center.

When Harry turned up with flasks of hot chocolate he’d made for everyone, I moved to stand next to him. He was wearing a grey trench coat and a ribbed navy-blue sweater, and I found myself thinking he could warm me up far more quickly than the hot chocolate. A heat crept up my neck at the thought, but it was also refreshing to feel this way about someone again. It was all part of the progress I’d made in New York, and just another reason to be thankful, because it meant that the part of me I’d assumed was dead might not be gone forever after all. Nothing was going to happen with Harry, but the idea that I might want it to one day, with someone else, was something to hold on to.

I’d seen snippets of the parade in films, but it was even more of a spectacle than I imagined. Huge balloons rose above the floats, and I watched everything from Charlie Brown to Thomas the Tank Engine, and a huge Thanksgiving turkey, float by. The crowds surged forward as the float carrying Santa Claus drew level with us, and the expression on the face of a little boy sitting on his dad’s shoulders, to the left of me, made me smile. If there was such a thing as magic, it could be captured by the look in his eyes and another memory flashed into my mind. Dad had dressed up as Santa for my primary school’s Christmas fayre every December, and I hadn’t realised until years later that it had been him. The magic had been enough for me to overlook the fact that Santa wore exactly the same signet ring on his little finger as my dad, with a lion’s head on a black background, that his own father had given him. Watching that little boy was like recapturing a part my childhood for a few minutes and it was happening more and more. Every time it did I was hit by that same feeling again – the sense that my parents were right there with me. I hadn’t allowed myself to recall any of those things the first Christmas they were gone. But there were hundreds of happy memories – gifts just waiting to be opened – and being in New York was finally allowing me to relive the good times one by one.

‘What did you think of the parade?’ Harry and I fell into step with one another as we walked back towards the Community Center. Abbie and Madison had offered to go to the deli with Dannie and Rob, to pick up the food, and Karly had gone on ahead to open up. Paula was meeting with DeShawn, who was a volunteer on one of the floats, and he was going to be joining us for dinner. It looked like Harry’s matchmaking was paying off.

‘It was even better than I thought it would be. The crowds were crazy, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

‘I know what you mean about the crowds. I love this city, but I think I love it best when it’s early in the morning, on a cold day, and I seem to have most of the park to myself.’

‘I’d be the same.’ Our hands were so close, and the sidewalks were still so crowded, that every few steps our fingers would brush against each other. I didn’t attempt to move farther away. There were too many people jostling us anyway. But even if the sidewalk had been empty, I wouldn’t have wanted to move. ‘I’ve fallen in love with everything about this city, but the park is my favourite place. I’m with Parsy – that picture under the arch summed it up for me. I could spend a week just reading the plaques on the benches.’

‘I spend a lot of my lunch hours that way. It gives me inspiration.’

‘Inspiration?’ I knew Harry could draw, because I’d seen his work at our art classes, and he’d told me a bit more about going to college with Paula. They’d been through art school together, and then she’d gone on to train as a psychotherapist. Although, from what he’d said, I didn’t think he did much outside the art classes any more. But, from the beginning, I suppose we’d always spoken more about me than him and it was time to put that right.

‘Yeah, I’m writing a book. Actually, it’s my third, and I’ve already got two out with agents and publishers under consideration. But I’ve probably got more chance of winning the Powerball than actually getting a publisher.’

If Harry thought he was more likely to win the lottery than get published, he clearly wasn’t remotely confident about finding an audience for his books, which made me suspect he’d either written about an obscure artist or produced an A-Z of the insects native to Central Park. There was only one way to find out. ‘What kind of books do you write?’

‘They’re kids’ books. I illustrate them myself, too.’ Harry laughed. ‘Although I’m not sure if that will count in my favour, or go against me. There’s one about a magic wishing bench, and I get almost all of my ideas while I’m in the park.’ He looked down at the sidewalk, as if he wished he hadn’t mentioned it.

‘That sounds great. I’d love to read it one day.’ And I meant it. Something in the way Harry spoke about his writing and illustrating gave me the feeling he had a far better chance of finding a publisher than he thought.

‘We’ve all got to have a dream, I suppose, but I’m lucky. Even if it never gets better than working in the park, I’ll be happy.’

I turned to look at him then. ‘Do you know what my dream would be?’ I asked quietly. He shook his head. I hadn’t told anyone about wanting to do this, not even Nan, but ever since the first day in the park, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. ‘I wish I could dedicate one of the benches in the park to my parents. But I looked it up, and it costs ten thousand dollars. I really would have to win the lottery to stretch to that.’

‘I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it?’

‘If you see me scratching their names on one of the benches with a screwdriver, or writing the message on with a marker pen, just promise me you’ll turn a blind eye.’

‘Don’t worry, I’d just be looking at you, anyway, not what you were doing.’ Harry caught my eye for a moment and my stomach did that weird fluttering thing it had a habit of doing every time he was around, before he looked down at the ground again. We suddenly seemed in danger of stepping over a line that both of us had been backing away from since the first day we met.

‘So, how come you aren’t spending Thanksgiving with your family?’ Turning the conversation back around to him wasn’t just a way of changing the subject. Harry knew far more about me than I’d ever intended him to, but I knew next to nothing about him and the more I found out the more he intrigued me. In the last ten minutes, I’d already discovered he had a secret life as an author and illustrator. I wanted to know about his background too and to hear what his childhood had been like. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about Harry and there was no point even trying to pretend I felt that to the same extent about the rest of our group of friends.

‘My sister lives in San Francisco, and she’s got two kids, so my parents spend all the holidays with them. I get invited, of course, and I’ll probably fly down for Christmas, but me and Paula have hung out together at Thanksgiving since we were at college. Besides, why would you want to be anywhere but New York for all of this?’

‘I think my first Thanksgiving is going to spoil me for any others I might experience in the future.’

‘Do you ever think about staying? In New York, I mean?’ He stopped, and for a split second I wanted to admit that it was something I’d begun to imagine, but my life was in Canterbury. My grandparents might finally be willing to take a holiday, but they’d go back to the pub after their break and they’d need me to be there too. Even if they insisted they could run the pub without me, they weren’t getting any younger and, before too long, they might need someone to start looking after them. They’d already lost their only daughter, there was no way I could abandon them too. Except part of me was terrified that, when I went home, all the good memories of my parents would disappear again and the only thing I’d be able to see would be those empty spaces Nan had talked about. But looking up at Harry again, I knew it wasn’t just the fear of that making me want to stay. I wanted more time with him. It was ridiculous and I hardly even knew him, but right then the idea of being in New York with Harry felt more like home than anything else.

‘It’s great here, and I’ve felt more at ease, almost from the second my cab arrived on Seventh Avenue, than I ever thought I could.’ He’d probably think I was crazy when I told him why I thought that was, but I didn’t seem to be able to stop myself from saying it. ‘Maybe’s it’s because I’ve seen New York so often in films, and because I came here on a couple of business trips a few years ago, but even when I go to places I’ve never been before, it feels like I know them. I never felt this connected to the place on my previous trips, but this time it’s like coming home.’

‘I felt that connection when I moved here for college, and I knew I could never leave. I might not have been born a New Yorker, but it has a way of getting under your skin. At least for some of us.’

‘This is probably going to sound insane.’ I figured I might as well tell him the rest, now that I’d started, but even if I’d tried to stop I don’t think I’d have been able to. ‘The thing is, I’ve felt the same about you, too, since that first time we spoke up at the castle. It was like I’d met you before, and I kept wondering if you just really looked like someone on TV, or if I’d met you on one of my previous trips.’

‘I’d have remembered you, if I’d ever met you before.’ His voice was low and my pulse seemed to be thudding in my ears. It was a good job we were only a hundred feet or so from the Community Center, because if we’d had more time alone together, I might have told him how I really felt, and the realisation of what I really felt was terrifying.

‘I guess some people just connect more easily.’ I attempted a casual shrug, keeping my tone light. ‘In your job, you’ve probably just developed the knack of making people feel comfortable talking to you.’

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