‘Can we stop? Please! Can we stop, Uncle Dean?’
Angel had had her face pressed against the darkened windows of the limo since they’d left JFK Airport. As predicted, Rita had called Dean, probably in the advert breaks ofThe Chase, and given him all the details of their flight. They’d been made to feel like felons having their photos and fingerprints taken before they were allowed into the country, then Dean had been waiting in the arrivals lounge, their names in Sharpie on a cardboard sign bordered in red tinsel. Why he’d thought he needed a sign, Hayley didn’t know but it had made Angel squeal with excitement and Hayley’s stomach had fluttered with a mix of longing and love for her brother as he’d gathered her up in a hug befitting of a missing relative found onSurprise Surprise. After an almost eight-hour flight and looking rough, the last thing she wanted was to be stood next to Holly Willoughby.
Angel had been wrestled up onto Dean’s shoulders only until he realised just how much she’d grown since his last visit home. He’d dropped her down to the ground, clasped her hand instead and led the way outside. A sea of yellow taxis had greeted them and a line of weary travellers waiting their turn for a ride. The limousine waiting for the Walker party was a welcome sight, although Hayley was never going to admit that to her mother.
‘Gabe, can you pull over?’ Dean called to the driver. ‘My niece wants to stop.’
‘Sir, I wouldn’t recommend doing that. Some of the otherdrivers told me the cops are getting hot on cars that pull over on the bridge.’
‘It’s OK, Dean. She doesn’t need to see everything this second. We can walk the bridge tomorrow or something,’ Hayley said.
‘No, Mum. I want to see it now. Please, Uncle Dean!’
‘Pull it over, Gabe. We see a cop car, we’ll jump back in and outrun them like an episode ofBlue Bloods. How does that sound?’ He grinned at Angel and offered his hand for a high five.
Hayley watched their hands connect, the utter joy taking over her daughter’s features. This was all so exciting for her. Seeing New York for the very first timewasspecial. It was Angel’s first moments here, ones she would remember forever. Just like she had. The smell of the city – it’s living, breathing heart, its electricity – the feeling that you were right in the midst of something that was constantly evolving. She’d stood on the Brooklyn Bridge at eighteen with her whole life stretching out before her. Wishes, dreams, a blank canvas to fill up any way she chose. She remembered stretching her arms above her head and feeling the breeze filter through each finger. Freedom, a foreign country, dollars in her pocket and a few weeks of indulgence before she knuckled down to college. And then there was that one night, way too much vodka and a Belgian called Michel.
The car pulling to a stop made Hayley come to. Angel was already tugging at the door handle before the brakes had fully engaged.
‘Wait, Angel. You have to be careful.’ She had visions of Angel stepping into traffic and being mown down. ‘There are a lot more cars here than at home.’
Angel let out a hiss of annoyance. ‘I’m not sure that’s actually true. Most people here use the subway.’
‘OK, Miss Smarty Pants, have it your way. Fly out of there, butbe prepared to get up close and personal with a van load of Krispy Kremes,’ Hayley bit back.
‘Hey, it’s OK. She’s just excited,’ Dean said, sitting forward on the seat. ‘I’ll look after her.’
Hayley let out a sigh. Why was she so jumpy? The guy from airport immigration had set her on edge like he was a mind reader, privy to her innermost thoughts. He’d asked a million questions – who she was visiting, how long for, her plans for the holidays – and then Dean had been there. Calm, confident, gorgeous Dean, who she loved with all her heart but who just seemed to do everything a whole lot better than she did. Including managing her daughter. Her parenting skills were all she had since fashion dreams had been given up. She thought she was doing OK but Dean, clever, industry-led Dean, was just such a natural with his niece. And Angel adored him, bonding again immediately. Was this because a male figure in her life was a novelty? Or because it was something she craved? Would this be what it would be like with her father in her life?
Angel opened the car door, slipping out and stepping up to the metal and wire barrier. Hayley heard the ‘wow’ before her daughter’s feet even hit the snow-covered tarmac. She followed Dean and Angel out of the car and joined them at the edge of the bridge.
And there was that view. Straight out of the movies. A scene so well-known but so completely different when you saw it for real, when it was that close.
High-rise buildings towered up from the banks of the Hudson River, shards of light bouncing off the water, reflecting in the ripples of the tide. Squares of yellow and rectangles of orange and white lights came from the tall, slim blocks across the river. Firm, foreboding but somehow also welcoming. Snow speckled the view, large, slow-moving flakes drifting in the breeze.
‘Which is the highest building, Uncle Dean?’
Hayley looked to Angel. She had her feet up on the first rung of the metalwork, leaning out, but her brother was directly behind her, his body close, his arms holding Angel steady. Snowflakes were settling on their hair. There were moments, like this one, where she saw elements of Michel in her daughter. It was something about her profile, the shape of her nose and definitely her eyes. Hayley continued to watch Angel with Dean. One night ten years ago had never mattered more than it did now.
‘That’s the One World Trade Center. It stands at 1,776 feet and has 104 floors.’
‘Wow,’ Angel said.
‘See, it’s there,’ Dean said, pointing across the water.
‘How many steps does it have?’ Hayley asked.
‘I don’t know that, but I do know it has elevators,’ Dean responded, grinning at her.
‘Mum didn’t really want to know. She was trying to be funny,’ Angel told him.
‘I know, Angel. She did it all the time when we were growing up.’ He tickled Angel’s ribs until she had to jump back down onto the road. ‘So, are you hungry?’
‘I am. We had chicken on the plane but that was hours ago,’ Angel answered.
‘How about Chinese? I know this great little restaurant,’ Dean suggested.
‘Oh, we don’t need to go out anywhere,’ Hayley began.
