An English Boy in New York (10 page)

Then there was a knock at the door. Mum and Dad had finally turned up. They asked if we wanted to join them for dinner in Little Italy. Gex looked slightly disappointed but smelled a free meal so he grudgingly accepted and changed into his best tracksuit.

I'm loving Little Italy. It's just like in the movies. I spent the meal staring at other people, convinced I'd seen them in something. Even though I can never remember actors' names, I can always remember what they've been in before.

‘That guy was in
Breaking Bad
,' I said. ‘I'm sure of it. And I'm sure that lady was a zombie in
The Walking Dead
. She has a little more colour now.'

I had veal Parmesan, because that's what people have in films set in New York. I was a little disappointed with Mum and Dad's choice. They ordered spag bol which, as I pointed out, you can get in Hampton.

‘What's the point of coming to New York and eating English food?' I sniffed.

‘Spag bol is Italian,' Mum argued. ‘Ooh, these bread sticks are long.'

‘Your mother likes a nice long –' Dad began.

‘No!' I snapped. ‘Not in front of Gex.'

Keen to change the subject, I asked Mum about Diablo and was he coming to the hotel?

As soon as I mentioned his name Mum looked a little sheepish and Dad frowned.

‘He's invited me to go and see his show,' Mum said. ‘In Times Square.'

‘That's great, isn't it?' I said.

‘He only sent one ticket,' Mum went on.

‘Backstage pass,' Dad added, raising an eyebrow. ‘I've never had a backstage pass from your mother.'

Gex suddenly choked on his fusilli and we all had to slap him on the back until he stopped.

‘Are you going to go?' I asked Mum when he'd got over it.

‘Of course she is,' Dad said. ‘Not often you get invited backstage by a rich, handsome megastar.'

‘Dave, you're being silly,' Mum said.

‘Have I said you can't go?' Dad replied.

Mum rolled her eyes. ‘We'll talk about this later,' she said.

Despite my parents letting themselves down with their behaviour, dinner was pretty good. I could grow to like veal Parmesan. Mum and Dad wanted to go dancing after dinner and asked if we wanted to come with them. There are a number of things I can think of that would be less enjoyable than going to an 80s club with my parents. Most of them involve having parts of my body sliced off and fricasseed before my very eyes. We politely declined and they seemed grateful, almost sprinting off down the street, hand in hand.

I was tired and to Gex's irritation decided it was time to head back to the hotel. Gex talked me into going into the bar in the lobby to try and get them to serve us alcohol but I blew it by asking if they had Horlicks. He was furious.

‘I'm tired,' I said. ‘I'm still jet lagged and want an early night.' Then Keith phoned and Gex said he was going off to meet him.

‘Did he only invite you?' I asked, sniffing. ‘What about me?'

‘Probably won't mind if you come, innit,' Gex replied uneasily.

‘I wouldn't want to be the gooseberry.'

‘And you did say you was tired.'

‘I see.' I hadn't really wanted to go out but I felt a bit as though everyone was abandoning me. Especially Gex. He was my fifth, no, sixth choice! And here he was swanning off with
Keith
. ‘It's all Keith this, Keith that,' I muttered to myself in the lift.

I made the most of it though and picked up my knitting once back in the room. I put on a bit of jazz. Relax the shoulders, Ben. Forget about Megan and Sean. Lose yourself in the knitting.

2.11am

A noise woke me. I'd dropped off in the armchair, the needles still in my hands.

I heard the noise again. Someone whooping. A woman. Then I heard a loud bang and some furious shushing. I went to the door and opened it. My parents were on the floor in the corridor, my father on his hands and knees, shoulders rocking with silent laughter, Mum was astride his back, like he was a horse, one hand over her mouth to keep the giggles in – unsuccessfully, I might add.

‘Who are you, and what have you done with my parents?' I said grumpily.

‘Ben!' Dad cried. ‘My boy!'

‘SHHHHHH!!' said Mum at 100 decibels.

‘Sorry, sorry,' Dad said.

‘Knee feeling better, is it?' I asked. ‘Do you know what time it is?'

Dad lifted his wrist to look at his watch. Unfortunately, this unbalanced him and the two of them collapsed to the carpet, Mum shrieking. They lay there for a while, unable to hold the laughter in. I watched them, stony-faced. There are few things less appealing than watching other people laugh about the fact they've just woken you up. I shut the door and left them to it.

Clearly the Diablo dispute has been resolved.

Gex still hadn't returned by breakfast time this morning. I guessed he'd stayed with Keith in Brooklyn. I didn't bother knocking on Mum and Dad's door. After their embarrassing performance last night, I hoped they were hiding shamefully in their room.

While I waited in the lobby for Brandi to pick me up, I went over to speak to Jasmine.

‘I'm sorry, Ben,' she said before I'd had the chance to say anything. ‘Your bag still hasn't turned up.'

‘I guessed that was the case,' I said. ‘You will let me know if it arrives, won't you?'

She looked at me steadily for a moment, then hitched up her smile and nodded.

‘Yes, Ben,' she said. ‘You'll be the first to hear.'

Brandi arrived then and I said goodbye to Jasmine, who flashed me a smile. I got in the cab and we drove downtown. We were a few minutes early for the meeting, so we went for a quick walk down Wall Street, towards the river and Battery Park.

‘Why is this area called the Battery?' I asked.

She hesitated before speaking, seemingly unsure of the answer. ‘I guess this is where they keep the electricity?' she said.

‘Hmmmm.' That didn't sound likely to me, but I didn't pursue it.

Brandi and I did a few more interviews. There were a couple of small newspapers and one more magazine. I was getting quite good at them by then. I started making jokes and telling anecdotes. Brandi would smile and give me the thumbs up. We finished early and grabbed a sandwich for lunch. Brandi was going back to her office after that so I'd have some time to myself. I was looking forward to it. I'd intended to go and see the Empire State Building, then maybe a museum or two if there was time.

‘Now,' Brandi said as we came out of the café. ‘I have another interview lined up for you tomorrow morning. Another radio station.'

‘I can't do tomorrow morning,' I said. ‘I have an appointment to see someone at Priapia.'

She looked at me, eyes wide. ‘Priapia? They're huge.'

‘I know,' I said. ‘They own Virilia, who own my whole school.'

‘No Ben,' she said. ‘I mean really huge. Like Alec Baldwin huge. To give you an idea, they make more in a year than all the countries in Africa put together.'

‘How do you know that?'

‘They're one of our clients. So who are you seeing then?' she asked.

‘A guy called Robert something.'

‘Robert D'Angelo?!'

‘Yeah, that's the guy. It's just an informal chat.'

‘Robert D'Angelo is head of their clothing arm,' she said. ‘He's an
important
guy.'

I swallowed. ‘Is he? Mr Hollis said it would be quite casual.'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Ben, this could be really huge.'

‘Why does everything have to be huge?' I asked, really starting to worry now. ‘I don't like huge things. I like things that are small to medium, or slightly larger than normal at a push.'

I think she could see I was starting to get anxious. ‘Don't worry,' she said. ‘You'll knock 'em dead. Just be yourself.'

I bit my lip and looked up at the grey sky, or the little of it visible through the trees of the park. It was just starting to rain. I told myself Brandi was right. Being myself had got me this far, after all. I was concerned though that I didn't have anything much to show them at the meeting tomorrow. I had started on another Hampton FC scarf but that wasn't going to interest the CEO of the clothing division of an Africa-sized multinational.

In fact, I could only really think of one thing that I might be able to show them that would be of any interest at all. And I'd need to show them a completed garment.

I was going to have to knit an entire Hoopie.

Tonight.

Later

I went back to the hotel. No time now to visit the Empire State Building if I wanted to give myself enough time to knit the Hoopie. Thankfully, I had enough wool now, thanks to my trip to Bloomingdale's. There was a message on the answering machine. It was Mum and Dad, they were in the lounge bar downstairs and did I want to join them? I took my travelling clothes and Gex's boxer shorts down to the laundry room and left them there washing while I went up to say hello to my parents.

I found them playing Scrabble on the iPad. Dad had just put down HOLE on a triple-word score.

‘Four letters?' I tutted, sitting down. ‘You always waste triple-word scores.'

He glanced at Mum, who grinned.

‘Feeling OK?' I asked. ‘Sore heads at all?'

‘We had a lie-in,' Dad said, winking at Mum.

‘Breakfast in bed,' she said.

‘Stop right there,' I said, sighing. ‘You two are so tiresome.'

‘We're just enjoying ourselves,' Dad said. ‘It's like a second honeymoon for us.'

‘The first one wasn't all it could have been,' Mum said.

‘What was wrong with it?'

‘Let's just say there was another person who spoiled the fun,' Dad said.

‘Dave,' Mum said, shaking her head.

‘What? Who?' I asked.

‘Never mind,' Mum said. What had he meant by that? But then the waiter came over and Dad asked me what I wanted.

‘Coke, please,' I said.

Mum and Dad looked at each other.

‘What?' I said.

‘Make that a Diet Coke,' Dad said to the waiter, inexplicably.

I watched them play their game for a while and had a good moan about having to knit the Hoopie at such short notice.

‘I'll be up half the night finishing it,' I said.

‘Most of the time you complain you don't have enough time to knit,' Dad said. ‘Now you've got all night to do it and you're still not happy.'

‘FLAPS,' said Mum, putting her tiles down.

‘Good one,' Dad said.

‘Waste of an S, though,' I said absently.

The waiter brought my Coke and I took a contemplative sip.

‘Maybe I should cancel this meeting?' I said, not that anyone was listening.

‘LIP,' Dad said. ‘I'm putting my LIP on your mother's –'

‘Stop that, stop it,' I barked, suddenly realising what they were up to. ‘I told you you weren't allowed to pay Rude Scrabble any more!'

‘That was in England,' Dad said, while Mum's shoulders shook with mirth. ‘It doesn't count when you're in another country.'

‘Don't you start,' I said.

‘Anyway, it's not Rude Scrabble,' Mum said. ‘It's Semi-Rude Scrabble. All the words have to be suggestive, without crossing the line into outright filth.'

I looked at the board. ‘ROD,' I said. ‘SLICK, JOB  …  hold on. ELBOW? What's rude about ELBOW?'

Mum and Dad looked at each other and burst into giggles again.

‘I don't understand,' I said. ‘But I'm sure it's disgusting all the same.'

‘Molly's not here,' Mum said. ‘Lighten up. Maybe you can help me?'

She showed me her letters. XDEBUTT

‘Is there anything you can see there that I can put on your father's HOLE?' she asked.

‘This is such fun,' I said coldly, as she and Dad rolled about in tears. ‘But if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work.'

I stalked out and went up to my room. I helped myself to a full-fat Coke from the minibar and grabbed the freebie needles.

I had work to do.

11.43pm

Gex interrupted my knitting half an hour ago. He's being vague about what he's been up to but he smells of KFC.

I was a bit cheesed off with him actually and I think he picked up on it.

‘What time do you call this, then?' I asked.

All right, Mum,' he said.

‘I thought you'd be staying at Keith's?'

‘He had some stuff to do, innit,' Gex said vaguely.

‘I hope you're not getting up to no good.'

He shook his head. ‘Nah, nothing like that.'

‘I'm just not sure I trust Keith.'

‘He's a good guy,' Gex said. ‘We're going to a bar tomorrow night. You're coming too.'

‘No, I'm not.'

‘Bruv,' he said shortly. ‘You can't say no when I ask if you want to come out then get annoyed with me because I'm not around.'

‘I'm not annoyed,' I sniffed.

‘Yes you are,' he said. He was telling the truth. ‘Come out with us tomorrow, yeah? You want to see the real New York? Keith will show you.'

‘I'll think about it,' I said.

I realised that Gex was examining the clothes of his I'd been wearing. I'd folded them and left them on an armchair so I could wash them tomorrow.

‘You been wearing my clothes, innit?' Gex asked.

‘Yes, Sherlock.'

‘Thought you was looking fly.'

‘Thanks, mate. Hope you don't mind?'

‘Naw. Don't mind. As long as you aren't wearing my boxers, man,' he laughed.

Uh-oh
.

‘Don't be a prat,' I said. ‘As if.'

‘Cos that would be like wrong,' he continued.

I laughed a little too loudly at this, but I think I got away with it.

‘No way would I ever wear your boxers, Gex!' I lied. I'll have to sneak them, washed, back into his suitcase when he isn't looking.

Where is my LUGGAGE?!

I'm now writing this in the bathroom because Gex claimed he needed his beauty sleep. Honestly, who does he think he is, Lady Gaga? Might have to finish the Hoopie on the toilet. Not ideal, but needs must.