Page 93 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘The Rockettes are doing some kind of Christmas show which is meant to be very popular, and I found a discount code while you girls were out gallivanting yesterday.’

‘Cool! Umm… who or what are the Rockettes?’ I asked.

‘Think sequins, impossibly white smiles and the can-can,’ Anneka replied, still looking at anything other than at me.

Christ.

‘And this is the first I’ve heard of the plan,’ Anneka added under her breath.

‘What time does the show start, Mum?’ I asked, hoping I sounded excited rather than anxious.

Please be early, please be early.

‘Oh, I don’t know – six-ish? But I thought we could go for one final New York wander afterwards – I’ve not even seen the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree all lit up yet.’

That could have been the first time Mum had said the word ‘Christmas’ in decades. If Anneka’s raised eyebrows were anything to go by, she’d noticed it as well. Whatever bug Mum’s body was battling, it must have made its way to her mind.

‘It sounds like a nice plan, Mum,’ I said with a smile, just as we got to the front of the queue.

‘What about that wedding?’ Anneka asked quietly, while Mum bought our tickets.

‘It’s fine; it’s probably best I don’t go anyway.’

‘Did you pick up the jumpsuit?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why don’t you say something to Mum? I think you should go; it’d be—’

I scrunched up my eyes and shook my head before she could finish.

‘Just stop, Anneka. Please.’ Breathe, Flora. ‘I’m here in New York with you and Mum, and the sooner I get it into my head that me and Ethan aren’t meant to be, the better. Okay?’

Anneka raised her hands up in a surrender, the space between her eyebrows creased into a rarely seen 11. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her look so… hurt?

‘Anneka, I—’

But Mum returned from the counter before I could say more.

‘Heads-up, girls: I’ve been told the visibility isn’t great from the top today,’ Mum said.

‘Oh, maybe should we come back tomorrow morning?’ I suggested.

‘Nah, we’re here now – how bad can it be?’ Mum spoke over her shoulder, already on her way to the lifts.

My eyes met Anneka’s for the briefest moment of unspoken understanding: Just go with it.

The first elevator took us just one floor up, spitting us out into an ‘interactive exhibition’ filled with historical information, photos and miniature models of the iconic building from the last century.

Will would have loved this.

Then I remembered he was actually here and would probably visit with Briony – if he hadn’t already done so. I was looking at some photos from the film Sleepless in Seattle – another movie I’d intended to watch from my sofa this week – when Mum’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

‘Come on, Flora! Let’s go to the top!’

I sighed. ‘Okay. Maybe we can come back to this floor after?’

‘If you insist, Mrs Museum.’ She pulled me by the elbow back to the elevators, where Anneka was already waiting. The disconcertingly fast ride up to the eighty-sixth floor played havoc with my tummy, not helped by a terrifyingly realistic CGI animation on the ceiling of the car making it look like we were shooting upwards into an unfinished skyscraper.