Page 106 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘Okay then, I guess this is it?’

I squeezed his fingers gently.

‘I have to go.’ My voice-box was now perilously close to closing up entirely.

He nodded once, and removed his hand, flexing his fingers a couple of times while I pulled the door shut, the car accelerating into the New York night.

‘Wait!’ I heard Ethan’s muffled cry a second or so later.

I swallowed before speaking to the driver. ‘Sorry, could you just pull over quickly?’

The driver sighed but obliged, bringing the car to a juddering halt. Ethan caught up to us, breathless as I rolled down my window.

‘You forgot your shoe!’

I looked down at my feet – I was still only wearing one of my new Converse.

‘Oh.’

He pushed the abandoned shoe through the window gap, my fingers briefly brushing his as I pulled it in.

‘Thanks, Ethan.’

For everything.

I flicked the window switch to close the gap.

‘Flora, I—’

But the window sealed itself before I could hear what he wanted to say.

‘Let’s go,’ I said to the driver, the simplicity of my instruction betraying the complexity of my feelings.

I didn’t look back as the car drove away. What was the point? The best thing I could do right now was to draw a line under this admittedly intense holiday romance and focus on getting to Mum and Anneka as quickly as possible. I just wished we hadn’t had to end it in such dramatic circumstances.

‘Flora! Oh thank God you’re here.’ Anneka collapsed into my arms and, for the first time in my life, I witnessed her body shake with sobs and anguish, her tears wetting the shoulder of her own coat.

I had a flashback to all the countless times in my life these roles had been reversed, and Anneka had comforted me as I’d sobbed or moaned about whatever had been bothering me on that particular day. I rubbed her back and peered over her shoulder to get a look at Mum, who was lying in the hospital bed.

‘Mum? Are you awake?’ I asked, as Anneka stood upright and attempted to regain her composure.

‘I’m fine.’ Mum’s croaky voice was only just audible from her horizontal position, her copper hair the only hue of her that wasn’t pale or grey. ‘Please don’t make a fuss, girls. This is all very dramatic.’

‘Mum, I found you unconscious in a puddle of vomit, you are now attached to a drip in hospital and you can barely speak. I am not being dramatic,’ Anneka said, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

For once, Mum didn’t answer back.

‘Tell me what happened,’ I said.

Anneka nodded, the words streaming out of her. ‘We got a cab back to the hotel right after you left for the wedding because Mum was starting to get bad stomach cramps. She went straight to the bathroom when we got there and after a few minutes I heard a massive thud, which I knew straight away was Mum collapsing to the floor,’

Anneka’s voice wavered again, and I took a step towards her, gripping her hand in mine. She smiled weakly at me before adding quietly, ‘I thought she’d died.’

‘I just lost my footing,’ Mum said, although her words were negated somewhat by a dramatic vomit into a blue plastic sick bag, which looked like a shrunken-down version of Jason’s IKEA shelter.

‘Mum!’ Anneka held Mum’s hair back and I stuck my head out of the curtain, catching the eye of a nurse.

‘Hey, can we get another sick bag?’ She nodded and went to fetch one.