Page 29 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘We’ll find a loo on the way, promise,’ Anneka had said to me quietly, as Mum had strolled on, still using her fallen branch as a makeshift hiking pole, which now looked extremely out of place on the streets of the city.

And now, here we were, having finally reached the bar Anneka had spotted this morning on her breakfast mission – with no toilet en route, of course. Or, at least, not one that I had been willing to beg to use.

Once I’d used the restroom, I found Mum and Anneka in a cosy booth opposite the bar, Mum’s branch leaning up against the table like some kind of territory marker.

To be fair to Anneka, her ‘classic American drinking hole’ radar had been on point earlier. ‘It’s like the bar from Cheers!’ Mum had cried as we’d stepped inside, sparkling Christmas decorations adorning every single corner, rail and surface. To me, the place looked just like the one from How I Met Your Mother. Either way, it had felt like stepping into a TV screen.

‘You know, I think I might just head back to the hotel for a nap,’ I said, knowing full well that, as soon as I sat down in the booth, I wouldn’t want to get out of it for many, many hours; the shiny red banquette looked very much like a mattress to me right now.

‘Flo, c’mon! Just one drink. Let’s make the most of it – we’re in blimmin’ New York!’ Mum cried.

‘Yeah, I’m very much aware of that,’ I mumbled as I slid into the booth and shrugged off my coat. I immediately felt the urge to lie down. I settled for resting my head on Anneka’s shoulder instead while Mum fetched some menus from the bar.

Mum returned with three menus, each of which was practically the surface area of the entire table, and began scouring her copy with her reading glasses – attached to the same shoelace as her pedometer – as if it were a map to buried treasure.

‘Oh – my – God,’ Mum said loudly, causing me to sit bolt upright, on alert. Had she spotted a celebrity? Or had the Central Park rangers tracked us down to arrest us for the illegal removal of Kentucky coffeetree pods?

‘What? What is it, Mum?’

‘It’s happy hour!’

‘No way?!’ Anneka replied, grabbing at her own menu to confirm Mum’s declaration. ‘She’s right! Buy one get one free on cocktails until seven. Whoop! I’ll have a Manhattan – when in Rome and all that.’

‘Ooh, me too,’ Mum said.

‘I’ll get them,’ I said, now slurring through exhaustion. I figured they could repay me with permission to leave sooner rather than later. I hoisted myself up on to a barstool and mindlessly watched a game of hockey on one of the many TV screens displayed alongside gleaming displays of liquor, until it was my turn to be served.

‘Hello, please could I order three – so I guess that works out as six – Manhattans, please?’

‘Six Manhattans coming right up for the ladies in the booth. Let me guess – a British bachelorette party?’ he asked, while inputting the order into the till.

‘Huh?’ I asked, confused.

‘The matching T-shirts. Someone getting married?’

‘Oh, right. No.’

The very opposite, in fact.

‘And will you be eating with us today?’

‘Maybe – we’re still looking at the menus.’

‘Great, I’ll start a tab for you.’

I didn’t have the energy to push back – so much for my plan to get this round in to buy me an early exit.

‘Um, I don’t suppose you have a phone charger for an Android phone?’ I asked.

‘Sure do.’ The bartender handed me a charger. ‘There’s a socket in your booth. Take a seat and we’ll bring your drinks right over.’

Mum was now in the loo, having decided not to wee in the nearest alleyway instead.

I plugged in my phone and rested it on the table as it booted back up. Anneka had already managed to connect to the Wi-Fi and was engrossed in tapping out a message.

‘Let me guess: Marcie?’ I asked.

‘Bingo.’ Anneka glanced up with a wink.