‘It isn’t that I don’t want to go. I really do. It’s just…’
Hayley knew how Angel was feeling. Until a few days ago, her daughter had known nothing about the search for Michel. Now he was here and it was all very real.
Hayley smiled. ‘I know. It’s OK.’ She squeezed Angel into a hug. ‘If you want me to come, I’ll come but let’s go and answer the door.’
Horse and carriage, Central Park
The horse was called Marco but Angel had decided to call it Snowy given it was a dappled grey who had almost been camouflaged against the snow on buildings, street and trees when they’d boarded. A white carriage, red and black canopy up to stave off the winter weather and a driver dressed in top hat and tails. Only in New York!
Now Hayley was sat on a red velveteen seat, close to Angel, snuggled under a tartan blanket, her teeth chattering as a strong wind blew snowflakes at them as they trotted through the park.
Central Park looked like the icing on top of a rich Christmas cake, with tree decorations sparkling with frost. Compared to the towering buildings encasing them, it was a patch of serenity, the only noise being the faint beep of car horns, Marco’s hooves and a saxophonist playing jazz who was braving the inclement weather.
‘This is the best way to see this part of New York,’ Michel stated. He was sat on the seat opposite them, a rug over his knees, snowflakes settling on his coat and in his hair.
Hayley smiled. Michel had been fine about her coming with Angel. She could tell he was nervous too and she didn’t blame him. This was a big step forward in their relationship. ‘When do we have to stop to pick up Marco’s poop?’
‘Mum!’ Angel exclaimed.
‘What? Did you not see the buckets hanging underneath the carriage?’ She turned to Angel. ‘You’re so good at doing that for Randy, maybe you could volunteer.’
Angel pulled a face and then quickly smiled at her father. ‘What’s your favourite New York building, Michel?’
Michel rubbed his hands together and blew some hot breath onto his fingers. ‘That is a hard question.’
‘Oh it isn’t,’ Hayley said. ‘It has to be the Statue of Liberty. She’s strong, she’s feminine and she’s green. What’s not to love?’
‘Mum, the Statue of Liberty isn’t a building,’ Angel corrected.
‘Well, landmark then. She’s my favourite landmark.’
‘I like the Brooklyn Museum,’ Michel answered. ‘It’s near to where I live.’ He directed a smile at Hayley. ‘There is a replica of the Statue of Liberty there.’
‘Can we go there?’ Angel asked.
‘Yes, of course.’ Michel looked to Hayley again. ‘If this is OK with your mum.’
Hayley smiled as the carriage came to a halt.
‘Angel,’ Michel said, sitting forward in his seat and holding a bag out to her. ‘You would like to feed the horse?’
Angel’s face lit up. ‘You brought carrots? Mum said to bring a carrot but?—’
‘Apples, actually,’ Michel interrupted.
Angel didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed the bag and jumped down from the carriage, heading across the snow to the horse up front.
‘Can you see her?’ Hayley asked, moving to the side of the carriage to keep Angel in her line of sight.
‘Yes, I can see her,’ Michel said. ‘Why don’t you come and sit over here?’ He patted the banquette next to him.
Hayley stood up, holding onto the blanket and dropped down next to Michel, settling when she could clearly see Angel offering an apple on the flat of her hand to Marco.
‘She was nervous for today,’ Michel remarked.
‘You guessed,’ Hayley said. She sighed. ‘Yes, it wasn’t me being overprotective, although I seriously am. She was just a little apprehensive, worried about what to talk about, that sort of thing.’
‘Me too,’ Michel admitted. ‘It is all so very different and I want things to go well.’
