An English Boy in New York (16 page)

‘
Capiche
.'

‘I'm seeing her Saturday night,' he said. ‘So I need it by then.'

‘No problem,' I said, already panicking about when I'd have the time to do it. My only hope was adjusting the one Tony had in his hands. It would save on wool too.

But Tony was scrutinising the Hoopie with a worrying frown.

‘Everything OK?' I said. ‘You like that one?'

‘Sure I do, except for the colour,' he said. ‘I'll need it in her favourite colour.'

Damn
.

‘And what is that?' I asked.

‘Cerise.'

‘Cerise?'

‘Cerise.'

Trey laughed all the way back to Manhattan. He found the whole episode hilarious. Unlike the rest of us.

‘So, Keith. Do you remember earlier, on the phone,' I said. ‘I asked you if Gex was alive?'

‘Yes?'

‘And you said
for now
. I thought you meant he was in danger of losing his life.'

‘What? No way. I meant he was nearly out of chips.'

‘Right. But you can see how I might have got the wrong end of the stick?'

‘I guess.'

‘You guess?'

‘Yeah.'

‘But you're saying now that Gex was actually in no danger at all?'

Trey exploded with another fit of giggling.

‘The worst they would have done was threaten to pull out a couple of fingernails unless he paid,' Keith said.

‘Just threaten?'

‘Yeah. Unless he didn't pay.'

‘Now I've got no money left,' I said. ‘My immediate problem, to add to all my other problems, is how the hell am I going to buy six rolls of cerise wool, which I'm allergic to in any case, so I can spend a day indoors knitting a Hoopie for a crime boss to pay off your gambling debt.'

Trey swerved across the turnpike as he doubled over, laughing.

‘Watch the road, Barry Chuckle,' I said.

‘I'll just shoplift your wool from Bloomingdale's, innit,' said Gex.

‘You are
not
shoplifting from Bloomingdale's!' I roared. ‘You've caused enough trouble as it is.'

‘Can't you borrow it off your parents, then?' Gex shrugged.

‘I'm not asking my parents. They don't have much money either.'

‘You could ask your girlfriend?' Keith suggested.

‘Megan doesn't have any money,' I said.

‘Not Megan, the girl with the hair.'

‘Brandi is not my girlfriend.'

‘She wants to be,' Keith said.

Gex snorted.

‘Also,' I said, changing the subject. ‘We have to pay Trey back.'

‘Ah, don't worry about it,' Trey said. ‘I had a blast.'

‘I'm paying you back,' I said.

He looked over at me and grinned. ‘Tell you what, you get that big deal with Priapia, and then you can pay me back.'

‘I'm not getting any deal,' I said. ‘I told you, I made a mess of the interview.'

‘That's not what I heard,' Trey said. ‘I was driving Robert home last night and he made a call. Your name was mentioned.'

‘Really? What did he say?'

‘I can't tell you. I've already said more than I should have. But you should prepare yourself for a call.'

‘When?'

‘Tomorrow, I guess, he said he needs to talk to you before the fair. He's got a plan.'

Dawn was breaking by the time we got back to the hotel. Gex was still sheepish and went to bed quietly. I made up a bed for Keith on the floor using cushions from the armchair. While Keith was in the bathroom, Gex sidled up to me and mumbled something unintelligible.

‘What? What did you say?' I asked.

‘Just wanted to say thanks,' he said quietly, looking at the carpet. ‘For coming to get me and that.'

This was unexpected and a bit embarrassing. Gex never apologises. I was touched.

‘Never mind,' I said. ‘You're a mate, after all.'

Then we both looked down at the carpet awkwardly, until the door to the bathroom opened and Keith came out. ‘Room service for anyone?' he said.

‘Absolutely not,' I said, back to outraged disapproval. ‘I think it's time you both went to sleep.'

Later, I lay in my own bed, my mind awhirl, listening to Gex and Keith snoring and the chirping traffic thirteen storeys down. I was thinking about the crazy night I'd just had, about what Trey had said, but most of all about the fact that I'd somehow agreed to knit a hooded cardigan for a Mafia don in New Jersey.

In cerise.

9.17am

We wanted to sleep in the next day, but Mum and Dad had other ideas.

‘We've hardly seen you since we arrived,' Dad said as I squinted at him over the threshold. At least Mum was here, and the two of them were still talking. She hadn't run off with Diablo.

‘Well whose fault is that?' I asked. ‘You've been out and about dawn till dusk having fun, while I've been going to interviews and tidying up after Gex.'

‘Get dressed,' he said, unsympathetic. ‘We'll meet you in Dino's in ten minutes.'As I closed the door, Gex was sitting up in bed, looking at me oddly.

‘What?' I said.

‘You is getting the chunk on, bruv,' he said.

‘I am not.'

‘It must be all them Philly cheesesteaks.'

‘I've only been here a few days,' I pointed out.

‘You have eaten a lot of Philly cheesesteaks.'

‘Only three. Maybe four,' I said. ‘Anyway, I don't get fat, I have a fast metabolism.'

‘It's slowed down,' he said, rolling over and plumping his pillows.

I looked at my belly. The T-shirt I was wearing did seem a little tight.

‘It's probably jet lag,' I said. ‘I'm not worried.'

Keith made his excuses and slipped off before breakfast to track down his car. While Gex snoozed, I texted Brandi to ask if there were any interviews to do today or whether I had the day for sight-seeing. I still hadn't even been to the Empire State Building! The phone rang straight away.

‘Hey, babe,' I said, feeling a bit Hollywood.

‘Hello? Mr Fletcher?'

‘Oh, sorry, yes, this is Ben Fletcher.'

‘This is Robert D'Angelo of Priapia Textiles.'

‘Hello, Mr D'Angelo. How are you?' Suddenly the nerves were back.

‘I'm well thanks, Ben. I told you I'd give you a feedback call following your meeting with us earlier this week.'

Had he said that? I couldn't remember.

‘Ben, can I be honest with you?'

‘Please do,' I said. That didn't sound good. People only ever ask if they can be honest with you when they're about to tell you something you don't want to hear. Like you have pongy breath, or you're just not cut out to be a test pilot. Or both.

‘We think you need to do some more work on your business proposal.'

‘OK, what sort of work?'

‘Well, you need to actually have a business proposal for a start.'

‘Point taken,' I replied. I wondered if I should tell him he needed to work on his ‘informal chat' skills.

‘We didn't feel you were adequately prepared for the meeting. It wasn't clear how you intended to monetise your enterprise, what your short-, medium-term and long-range goals were, or even what level of funding you were looking for.'

I wondered if I was allowed to hang up now? I should have been at Dino's eating waffles. Maybe I should shout down the phone: ‘Yeah, well, screw you, buddy. I'm gonna make it big in this town, then I'm gonna buy you out and fire your ass.'

‘Having said that, we LOVE your design,' he went on.

‘You do?' I said, taken aback. ‘Well, that's nice.'

‘And  …  and we've been watching the news reports about you, Ben. About how you're going to outknit a machine.'

‘About that –'

‘We like your approach to publicity, Ben,' he said before I could explain. ‘Your business plan sucks, but you're damn good at publicity.'

‘That's all down to my people,' I said quickly, glancing over at Gex, who I suppose is one of my people. He was still in bed, scratching his bottom.

‘I wanna make you an offer, Ben. I want to make you a very nice offer.'

‘Really?'

‘Really. I want the rights to that design. I want world rights. And I'm prepared to pay a lot.'

‘Wow!'

‘Yeah, wow!' he said. ‘And I want your name, and I want you to sign a contract to provide me with more designs.'

I jumped up and down in silent glee.

‘But it comes with a condition.'

Of course it does.

‘Ben,' he said.

‘Yes?'

‘You got to make me some sales at the fair. You can take a table in our stand on Saturday. I'll fix up some appointments for you.'

‘Wow, that sounds amazing.'

‘And one more thing, Ben.'

‘Yes?'

‘You got to win against that machine.'

There was a very long pause.

‘This is all about the story. Your story. If the machine beats you, then there's no story. No story, no more publicity. No publicity, no Hoopie.'

‘I see,' I said.

‘I'm sorry to be blunt, Ben, your design is amazing. But I'm afraid that's not enough. You think it over. You have my number.'

‘OK,' I said. ‘I will.'

‘But don't leave it too long,' he said and hung up.

In the diner, Mum had found another article about me in the newspaper and showed me over breakfast.

‘ …  It's a mental thing,' Mum read out.

‘So mental,' Gex said.

‘This is why I was so fast at the AUKKC final,' I said. ‘Everything just clicked into place. In my head, I mean.'

‘You were Zen,' Mum said.

‘My yin and yang were balanced,' I said.

‘Your arse and your elbow were in alignment,' Dad added.

‘So that's the key,' Mum said. ‘You need to have your head together. Then you can do it.'

I wanted to ask Mum about Diablo but I thought it might be awkward with Gex sitting there. And Gex looked to be in for the long haul. Once he realised Dad was paying, Gex ordered bacon, eggs and hash browns with extra toast. I didn't eat much for breakfast. This was for a number of reasons I will list in no particular order.

Since he got punched in the face by the busker, Dad has developed a habit of leaving a bit of food on his fork after withdrawing it from his mouth. I think it hurts him to really bite down on the fork with his top lip, so he's only lightly closing his lips as he pulls it out. That's disgusting enough, but then he insists on picking up more food with the same encrusted fork and offering it to me for a taste. ‘I
would
like a taste,' I said after a pause. ‘But do you mind if I use my own fork?'

‘Yes I do,' he said. ‘That's been in your mouth.'

‘Well,
that
one's been in
your
mouth,' I pointed out. ‘And if I have a taste, then it'll have been in my mouth too.'

Mum sighed.

‘Well, let me scrape it off onto your plate, then,' Dad said, before dumping a noxious-looking lump of waffle onto my plate, glistening with his saliva.

Anyway, I didn't eat much.

After breakfast we took a walk. Mum hadn't been to Bloomingdale's yet and was very excited at the prospect.

‘I used to keep up with fashions by glancing at the window displays on the high street as I walked past every day,' she said. ‘But since Peacock's shut I feel I've lost touch with the latest styles.'

I wanted to go and have another look at the knitting department and was hopeful I could get Mum to buy some wool for me. We weren't in any particular hurry and took a wander through the park. The leaves were fresh and green. Full of promise for the summer to come.

‘Heard any more from the Magic Circle?' I asked Mum.

‘Yes, I'm to appear before a tribunal to explain myself,' she said worriedly. ‘Until then, I'm not allowed to perform any magic.'

‘What happens if you do?'

‘I'll be cast out of the Circle,' she said.

‘But what does that mean?

‘Some venues won't hire anyone outside the Circle. It's a little like a union. I'd probably have to go back to doing kid's parties like in the old days.'