Page 99 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

What was I even asking?

‘Oh, totally. I mean, I loved living in London. But New York is next level, you know? Why? Thinking about a move here yourself?’

‘Oh, no – I mean, I’d love to but… no.’

She cocked her head to one side. ‘What’s stopping you?’

‘I mean, probably a whole load of immigration laws to begin with.’

She shrugged. ‘Anything’s possible with the right employer. Or wedding certificate, ha! Speaking of which, I need to go and find my husband, but I’m sure I’ll see you again before the end of the night!’

And then I was on my own. I instinctively checked my phone, but I had no Wi-Fi connection. I wandered over to the bar to see if I could locate a code, but before I had a chance to ask the bartender, a man swivelled around on a bar stool to face me. Actually, he swivelled one-hundred-and-eighty degrees too far, so he spun himself around again until he reached the intended position.

‘Flora! There you are! You came!’ It was Ethan’s dad, who seemed to be at the same level of drunkenness as his newly married eldest son.

‘Hey, Mr Carmichael.’

‘C’mon now, it’s Saul. And don’t you worry about keeping up the whole “we work together” charade; Ethan told us you only met each other on Friday, is that right?’

I had no way of knowing how much Ethan had told his parents, so I decided to stick with the safest possible version of the story.

‘Yeah, it’s been a really nice speech to work on.’

‘And we’re excited to hear it. But come on now. You’re not here with him because of the speech, are you?’

Shit. This man is hammered and I am way too sober for this interaction.

‘Ummm…’ I looked around, hoping Ethan would be on hand to interject, but he was nowhere to be seen. I pointed at my glass in the direction of the bartender, who acknowledged my silent order with a nod. Saul kept talking, his words blending into each other.

‘Ever since yesterday he’s been all “Flora this”, “Flora that”. He’s smitten.’

‘Oh! That’s nice.’

What else was I meant to say? ‘The feeling’s very much mutual’? Fuck, it was, wasn’t it?

‘Did you know that me and Chrissie got married after two weeks?’ Saul slurred, taking a swig from his beer and pouring a not-unsubstantial volume of liquid down the front of his shirt – not that he seemed to notice.

‘No! I didn’t. How did that happen?’

‘We just knew. Our parents were so pissed, ha!’

‘You were young?’

‘Young enough.’

‘There you are!’ Finally, it was Ethan. ‘Right, they said we can go through for dinner now if you’re ready?’

‘Absolutely,’ I said, thankful to be able to extract myself from what was fast becoming an intense conversation that I wasn’t even ready to have with myself, let alone with Ethan’s dad.

Ethan helped Saul down from the stool and we made our way towards the back of the space, where a set of double doors had now been opened to reveal a stunning covered outdoor courtyard, romantically lit with candles and warm white festoon bulbs. A huge Christmas tree draped with copper streamers the exact shade of Sinead’s hair took centre stage at one end of the room, where the head table was located. Around ten smaller circular tables filled the remainder of the space that was, thankfully, efficiently heated.

A group of guests huddled around the seating plan on an easel, but Ethan guided me to a table next to the head table at the front.

‘This is us,’ he said, pulling out a chair for me, which I slid into gratefully – my new Converse were proving to be less comfortable than I’d hoped thanks to the platform soles.

‘Thanks. How are you feeling about the speech?’

He swallowed, fiddling with a copper cufflink. ‘Nervous.’