Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe (15 page)

Caroline, Pearl and Issy looked at one another.

‘Would you mind terribly …’ said Mrs Hanowitz.

‘Take it,’ said Issy, without a glance. Mrs Hanowitz started to eat Donald’s unwanted gingerbread. Issy knew it was difficult for the old lady
to heat and eat on her state pension.

‘Now, I don’t have children …’ started Issy.

‘I’ll have to have a word,’ said Caroline, shaking her head. ‘That nanny is just awful. There’s obviously some very juicy gossip going on.’

‘That girl looked about sixteen,’ observed Pearl. ‘What’s she doing looking after three children? How old are the twins?’

‘Six,’ said Caroline. ‘Little girls. One thinks she’s a boy. Adorable, mostly.’

‘They are,’ said Issy, remembering. Kate was always trying to separate them, but they insisted on doing everything together. ‘I wonder what’s happened?’

Caroline had already taken out her phone.

‘Ooh, I wonder if it will ring in the Priory. Hello? Hello, Kate darling … Where? Oh, Switzerland?’

Caroline’s voice dropped noticeably, but she pulled it back.

‘How GORGEOUS! Got lots of the fluffy stuff? Oh DELIGHTS, darling. Say hello to Tonks for me … and Roofs … Oh, are Bert and Glan there too? Oh really, all of you … Sounds very jolly … No no, you know me, working girl these days, no room for that kind of stuff, just busy busy busy … Oh yes, Richard’s coming down, is he?’

Her voice turned to steel.

‘Well, that’s great news. You and Richard and all our friends. I’m so glad to hear it. I do
hope you all have a wonderful time. Oh, they’re both … No, no, of course I don’t mind. Why would I? He’s nothing to me. He’d just better not be spending the children’s fucking school fees, that’s all I can say …’

There was a pause.

‘Now, listen. We just had your Donald in the shop. He’d got out of the house. I think you need a new nanny … Yes, again. Well, you know, they don’t know how to work, these girls. I agree, totally lazy. New Labour. Issy was on the point of calling the police.’

Issy was now very relieved she hadn’t got to the point of dialling.

‘Yes, well, no, he was totally fine. Yes, he was still sucking his thumb … seems like a bit of delayed development to me …’

They exchanged a few more words before Caroline hung up. Her face sagged, and Issy caught the hurt and pain there. Then she pulled herself together.

‘That lazy girl. I think Kate’s going to change agencies. She said they’ve sent her six totally useless characters now.’

‘Maybe she should have all six at the same time,’ said Pearl.

‘Do you know, that’s not a bad idea,’ mused Caroline.

Issy rolled her eyes. ‘The longer I spend in Stoke Newington, the less I understand it,’ she said. ‘Is everyone really rich now?’

‘Hmmph,’ said Mrs Hanowitz,
across the counter. ‘Although I am pleased the Christkind brought me this good luck. That was truly bitte good.’

Carmen Espito clicked her heels up the passageway in front of Austin. None of this, he reflected, felt quite real. But here he was, on the forty-ninth floor – forty-ninth! It even had a special express lift – of the Palatine Building at Forty-fourth and Fifth, right in the very heart of Manhattan. The office was on a corner, and consisted mostly of huge glass windows, one of which faced north and included the Empire State and all the way to Central Park; while to the east he could see the Hudson river with the Brooklyn Bridge spanning across into the warehouses and riverside cranes of Brooklyn.

All around the great tower snow whirled, soundlessly turning the whole of Manhattan into an enormous snow dome. It was heartstoppingly beautiful, one of the loveliest things Austin had ever seen.

‘Wow,’ he said, standing so close to the floor-to-ceiling windows he felt as if he could step right out into the sky. ‘My little brother would LOVE it in here. How does anyone get any work done?’

Carmen smiled. She was used to the bank staff being very sophisticated, and if they were impressed by anything, absolutely refusing to show it. Before she had lost sixty pounds, got her nose fixed and tattooed on her eyebrows, she had
been just a normal girl from Oregon, and Manhattan had transfixed her too.

‘It is nice, isn’t it?’ she said. Then her bright red lips closed again, and she sat down at the empty desk.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘I’m a lawyer, specialising in immigration and employment rights. Mr Ferani wanted to get all of this red tape sorted out as soon as possible, and I’m sure you do too.’

Austin told himself this was just a bunch of paper-work; not at all irreversible, just some stuff to look at and think about later. Then he realised, looking at the obviously sexy but also obviously very serious Carmen Espito, that these were legal documents she had in front of her. This wasn’t just a little American chit-chat. Obviously they liked things done and they liked them done quickly. And they doubtlessly expected him to jump at the chance.

As any sane person would, of course. The chance to grab a fabulous job, a whole new life, at his age, well. It was a dream come true. Anyone else, he was sure, would be biting her hand off.

‘Can I …’ he asked. ‘Can I take the contracts and stuff back to take a look at, just before we’re all done?’

Carmen raised an eyebrow.

‘Of course, they’re pretty much standard boilerplate,’ she said. ‘If you want to get your lawyer to call me …’

Austin’s lawyer had been a seventy-five-year-old grandmother who’d advised him to ignore social services when they wanted to come
and poke about and ask Darny if he was getting his five a day, to which Austin would always answer yes, having come to the conclusion some time ago that he was just going to have to include potato.

‘Uhm, yes, maybe I will,’ he said hastily, trying to sound businesslike. ‘Great. These are great.’

Carmen handed him several heavy sheaves of documents.

‘Just bring them back with your passport.’

‘My passport?’ said Austin, feeling slightly panicky. It felt a bit like they were trying to hold him against his will.

Behind him the door opened with a boom, and Merv Ferani marched in. Today his bow tie was covered in small leaping reindeer, and his waistcoat was red. He looked like a small Jewish Santa Claus.

‘How are we going here, Carmen?’ he said. ‘Finishing up?’

‘Mr Tyler wants to get his lawyer to look it over,’ she said, swiftly. Merv’s face registered surprise.

‘There’s something you’re not happy with?’ he said.

‘Oh, no, I’m sure … It’s just, you know, I’d … I mean. I kind of do have to talk it over with my little brother.’

‘He’s your business analyst, is he?’

‘No … no, he lives with me. And my girlfriend,’ he added hastily. ‘I just … I mean, it’s a huge uprooting …’

‘To the greatest place on earth!’ said Merv. He was genuinely confused – and he had a right to be, Austin conceded,
given that Austin had agreed to come to New York in the first place.

‘Well, yes,’ said Austin. ‘I realise that.’

Merv looked out of the ceiling-height windows.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a great idea. We’ll fly ’em out for the weekend. What do you think about that, huh? Let them have a look, realise how great your life here is going to be. Take the kid to some museums and shit, catch a show, eat some real food. I’ll get my PA to sort it out.’

Austin looked at him, stupefied. Then he remembered he was meant to be this super-cool hip banker from the UK who was completely blasé about this kind of thing happening all the time. He didn’t think he could pull that off.

‘Well …’ he said.

‘That’s my boy,’ said Merv. ‘I’ll pass you on to Stephanie, you’ll love her.’

Why did everything have to move so fast? thought Austin, feeling his throat tighten nervously. But then, Issy was going to love it. She
was
going to love it, wasn’t she?

Issy was at Darny’s school, and, currently, feeling a complete and utter fraud. Actually, it was awful. She was surrounded by people who all knew each other and were chatting furiously amidst peals of laughter, under fluorescent lighting, the smell of cheap mulled wine failing completely to cover up the undercurrent that was still after all these years so familiar to Issy: sweat, horrific aftershave rendered by the bucketload, trainers, illicit cigarettes and a harder-to-place hormonal fug that made everyone a little louder and more excitable.

She shouldn’t even be here; she had just been so horrified when Austin had remarked casually that he didn’t normally go to Darny’s end-of-term concerts any more because Darny hated him being
there so much and played up and they both got embarrassed.

‘I thought watching kids in nativity plays was the good bit about having them,’ she’d said, outraged.

‘After the year with the politically motivated capitalist innkeeper being portrayed as the leader of UKIP, and the dope-smoking shepherd? No. We all kept out of it after that,’ Austin had said wearily. ‘Anyway, now he’s at secondary school they don’t do a nativity any more, they do some contemporary stuff.’

‘Shit,’ said Darny helpfully. ‘He means contemporary shit.’

‘And have you got a part?’

Darny had shrugged his shoulders, which Issy took to mean yes, I do, and Issy had insisted they were going and both the boys had slumped in a way that made them look less like brothers and more like identical twins.