One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) (38 page)

‘
L
adies and gentlemen
, thank you one and all for attending this year’s McArthur Foundation fundraiser. It’s a pleasure to see so many faces, previous attendees and newcomers, here tonight to enjoy this fabulous event and celebrate all the good work the foundation has undertaken this year,’ Cynthia said.

The crowd all clapped their hands again and Oliver could feel the sweat on his palms as he stood in the wings. He was more terrified about this than he’d been about his first full meeting with the board of Drummond Global. He’d thrown up in the men’s room before that encounter. That was another reason he hadn’t got here for the meal, he just wouldn’t have been able to stomach it.

‘It’s five years since we lost my eldest son, Ben, and there isn’t one day that passes where he’s not thought of. He left a huge dent in our family but tonight’s McArthur Foundation fundraiser isn’t about dwelling on our pain and suffering …’ Cynthia paused. ‘Our loss … It’s about coming to terms with their passing and celebrating the lives of our loved ones …’ A murmur grew from the audience and his mother stopped speaking. She looked to her left and saw him stepping out onto the stage. People in the audience started to clap their hands and he willed his legs to keep holding him up. There were tears in Cynthia’s eyes as he met her, leaning to kiss her cheek. So many questions were written in her expression. He couldn’t answer them yet. The applause died down and, as he pressed the piece of paper to the stand, Cynthia left. He was entirely on his own.

‘Good evening everyone. I’m Oliver Drummond, the CEO of Drummond Global.’ He paused. ‘Tonight, just Oliver.’ He put his hands to the lectern. ‘Firstly, I want to apologise for interrupting my mother just then. I think I scared her half to death … because I was the very last person she was expecting on stage tonight.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Because … since my mother asked me to speak at this event I’ve been thinking of every excuse I can to get out of it.’

There were a few rumbles of discontent and a couple of laughs before he carried on.

‘For me, heading up a billion-dollar corporation and dealing with difficult international negotiations on a daily basis is a piece of cake compared to standing here in front of you good people and telling you what this foundation means to me.’

He took a breath, looking out into the audience. He needed to find Hayley. He wanted to know she was listening to this.

‘For a very long time I despised this organisation and I hated what it stood for. Everyone connected with it was still grieving, wallowing in death and illness and making plans to die. I have to say that scared the crap out of me. Why would I want to tell everyone about my feelings? Why would I want to drag up memories of my brother when all it does is rip my heart out?’ He paused. ‘For so many years I wanted to forget him. I wanted to forget his death, pretend it never happened, because it tainted everything. It crushed my mother, it practically killed my father and it turned me into some sort of control freak in an ivory tower so high Rapunzel would have needed hair extensions to get out of it.’

There were chuckles of appreciation and he picked up the glass of water on the stand and put it to his lips. He recomposed himself and started again.

‘Until today I’ve been living a careless, meaningless, cheap kind of a life where nothing mattered to me other than where the next buzz was coming from.’ He swallowed. ‘I was afraid to make any connection that mattered, on a personal level and on a professional level too. I’m ashamed to say that apart from my closest team, I didn’t know the names of anyone that worked for me. And, what was worse than that was, I didn’t care.’

H
ayley was shaking
as she watched him, completely transfixed, everyone else in the room fading away. He knew the results of his test and he was stood on the stage pouring his heart out to a room full of strangers whose only connection was the failed health of someone they were close to.

Angel slipped her hand into hers, twisting her small fingers into the gaps to bond them tight as Oliver started to speak again.

‘I put work ahead of everything else. I wanted to waste my life on exuberance, because, without my brother, without my father, it all seemed pointless.’

Hayley watched Oliver look out into the crowd and she shifted on her chair, leaning forward a little, wanting to meet his eyes. Finally their vision connected and she offered him a tentative smile, her eyes welling up with tears.

‘And then something changed,’ he said. ‘I met someone.’

‘It’s you!’ Angel whispered loudly, removing her hand from Hayley’s and doing jazz hands.

Hayley batted her vibrating fingers away, her attention solely on Oliver.

‘This person came into my life like a tornado – completely unexpected, going a hundred miles an hour and whirling up a whole lot of crazy.’ He took a breath. ‘And she saved me from myself without really even knowing it.’

Her heart contracted at his words. They were food to her soul, warming everything.

‘Just being with her made me see that I didn’t want my life to be meaningless anymore. I couldn’t carry on treating my staff like crap, ignoring my mother because she reminded me of the family I’d lost, being emotionally absent from every single day. I had to make peace with what had happened, I had to embrace whatever future I had and I had to make the most of every minute. With the people I care about.’

The first tears were falling and she tried to push them back into her eyes with her fingers. She knew then what he was telling her. He had the same condition as Ben. It was confirmed. But he was now going to suck the life out of every moment he had left. With her.

‘The McArthur Foundation isn’t something to be feared, it’s something to be very proud of. With your donations and your publicity and your volunteering efforts round the clock, you’ve raised millions of pounds for essential research into all kinds of life-limiting illnesses and diseases. You’ve also funded the very first holiday home for bereaved families to go spend some time together after they’ve lost a loved one. I’m in awe of everything you’ve achieved this year. Thank you so much for your continued support.’ He put his hands together in applause and the crowd followed his action, all clapping their appreciation.

Hayley sniffed, wiping her nose on her arm as she stopped clapping.

‘So, without further ado, I want to introduce someone special to you all … the designer of the logo for the fundraiser tonight which is now going to become the logo of the McArthur Foundation. Miss Angel Walker.’

Hayley spun round to look at Angel. ‘What the … are you …’

‘Relax, Mum, I’ll give you credit for the slogan,’ Angel said, slipping out of her chair as the crowd began to clap again.

A sob of pride slipped out as she watched Angel move through the tables, the spotlight picking out the sequins on the silver party dress she had jazzed up with beads and diamantes yesterday. Angel mounted the stairs and held her hand out to Oliver. He gave it a business-like shake.

Angel put a clenched fist to her mouth and cleared her throat. She leant into the microphone like a professional. ‘Ladies and gentleman, I give you the new logo for the McArthur Foundation and the new slogan. My mum helped with that by the way.’ Angel paused until the audience were quiet. ‘Every single beat.’

The big screen behind them flashed on and Angel’s butterfly drawing had been turned into a platinum and turquoise graphic, its wings beating and flexing. With a bang like fireworks going off, thousands of glittering butterfly shapes began to fall from the ceiling of the room and people started to exclaim. There were joyous cries and hundreds of hands clapped together as the room was filled with as much thudding and stamping as a football stadium.

Oliver spoke over the noise. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the McArthur Foundation isn’t about grief, it’s about courage. And just like the butterfly, some of us might not get long in this world, but we need to make sure that every single beat counts. Thank you.’

There was a roar of appreciation and people began to bang the tables with their hands, knock cutlery against glasses, anything they could to get their emotions across.

Hayley couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed past chairs, slipping her body past tables and clapping guests to get to the front of the room. Oliver was coming off the stage with Angel, Cynthia hot on his heels. She needed to know. She just needed to hear the words from his mouth and she would deal with it.

O
liver could see
her heading towards him in the dress he’d ordered for her. It was perfect and she had never looked more beautiful, her sleek dark hair shifting as she hurried past people, her eyes wide, those pert lips slicked with pink gloss.

‘Oliver, please,’ Cynthia begged.

‘Remember your promise,’ Angel said, tugging at Oliver’s jacket. ‘Proper dancing.’

He smiled at her. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’

Hayley rushed the last few steps and practically threw herself at him. ‘Tell me, God damn it. Tell me right now! I’m ready for it, whatever they said I can handle it.’

Oliver could see the tears were leaking from her eyes and he looked away, towards his mother, reaching for her hand. He pulled Angel in close and took Hayley’s hand before he dragged in a breath that seem to take a long time to fill his lungs.

‘I don’t have the gene.’

‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ Hayley looked to the ceiling. ‘I can’t believe it! Thank you, thank you!’ She threw her arms around him, clinging to him like a boa constrictor.

He looked to Cynthia and saw the release of years of worry in teardrops on her cheeks, an almost serene expression on her face. He squeezed her hand as Hayley hugged the life out of him.

‘I knew God couldn’t be that cruel,’ Cynthia said, slipping a tissue from her sleeve and dabbing at her eyes. ‘I’m so pleased for you, Oliver.’

‘Mum, it’s getting embarrassing now. You need to put him down,’ Angel said, folding her arms across her chest.

Hayley took a step back and Oliver smiled at her.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

‘I am now. I mean, I tried to concentrate on name places and the balloons and the butterfly net but all I could think about was you!’

‘Come, Angel, let me introduce you to some people,’ Cynthia said, clasping the little girl’s hand.

Angel made a V with her second and third fingers, putting them to her eyes and then directing them at Oliver as she moved away from them. Hayley flinched a little, looking confused.

‘Was that a threat?’ Hayley asked him.

‘Kind of. We made a deal last night.’

‘Oh no. What sort of deal? You know she has a poker face, right?’

Oliver took her hand. ‘I hope the jazz band can play some Maroon 5.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

He looked at her, savouring the vision and breathing long and deep. It felt like a whole new world had been opened up for him. He didn’t have the rogue gene his brother and father had, he just needed to manage his stress better. He was going to do something he never believed he would be able to do and sign up for some counselling. Because he valued himself and he wanted a new start … with Hayley.

‘I know you’re meant to leave in a few days,’ he stated.

‘Yeah, back to England, jobless and facing a mother who has now read my ten-year diary.’ She was concerned about seeing her mother, raking over old ground, facing up to everything she’d written. But after their heart-to-heart on the phone she was hoping things could move forward. Maybe notes about the past would forge a new beginning.

‘I don’t want you to go.’

He watched for her reaction, wanting to see how she felt about his statement.

She swallowed, affection for him written all over her face. He kissed her lips, softly, slowly, wanting to melt into the moment.

‘Stay. At least a little longer,’ he begged, smoothing her hair with his fingers.

‘I can’t. Angel has school and we have a ticket home I can’t afford to replace.’

He laughed then, loud and hard. ‘Hayley, I’m a billionaire.’

‘And you’re not going to stay that way if you keep spending it on unnecessary things.’

‘Oh believe me, it’s necessary.’ He smirked.

‘What about Angel’s school. She’s excited about showing off her collection of random objects.’

‘I’ll get her one of Donald Trump’s wigs.’

‘Seriously?’

‘No.’ Oliver laughed. ‘Come on, Hayley. How hard is it to say yes? Whenever you need to go home …
if
you need to go home, I’ll pay for your ticket. I’ll fly you in a private jet if you want, I’ll get a tutor for Angel … unless.’ He stopped talking. ‘Unless you really don’t want to stay.’

He watched her eyes, took in the indecision, prepared himself to be let down.

‘Are you kidding? Of course I want to stay! I haven’t set foot in Bloomingdales yet and I need to get better at ice skating. But I’ll need some proper gloves because the hand-warming couture might have looked cool but it was lacking in just about every other area.’

‘Stop talking,’ Oliver ordered, leaning into her.

‘But I have to have to last word.’

‘Not tonight,’ he told her.

He pressed his lips to hers, slipping his hand around her back and pulling her into him. This was where he wanted to be, the room warm, the sound of happy voices, his suit covered in multi-coloured foil butterflies, jazz music starting up from the stage and the woman he loved in his arms. Lois and Clark. Together. Making every moment count.

H
ayley slapped
Angel’s hand as she reached across the table. ‘Oh no you don’t. Those popovers are for everyone.’

Angel pulled a face, slipping her tongue in front of her bottom row of teeth and pushing it forward.

Hayley put a hand to her throat. ‘Swearing! At the Christmas dinner table!’

‘Angel, darling, you have as many as you like,’ Cynthia said. ‘I can always make some more.’

Cynthia was smitten with Angel. She was like the daughter Cynthia never had and Angel truly had the woman wrapped around her little finger.

Hayley looked around at the grotto of a dining room. Outside the snow was two feet deep and set to increase overnight, inside they were all surrounded by garlands of bells, wreaths of holly, pine cones and red bows, a Christmas tree that almost reached the ceiling and Michael Bublé’s Christmas album coming out of the sound system. How different a home it was from the empty, soulless space she’d entered as Agatha. Her, Angel, Dean, Vernon, Oliver and Cynthia – with Randy howling for attention in the hall.

She looked at Oliver opposite her, wearing the Superman T-shirt she’d bought him, sipping at the cheap fizzy wine she’d grabbed at a bodega on the way over. She loved him. She knew that now without a shadow of a doubt. She’d agreed to stay longer but in a week, two, however long it was, she was going to have to leave him. She swallowed, popping a forkful of turkey in her mouth.

‘I’d like to give thanks and propose a few toasts,’ Oliver stated, raising his glass.

‘I think that’s a wonderful idea but I’d like to start,’ Cynthia said.

‘And then me, because it’s women and children first,’ Angel interrupted.

Everyone laughed.

‘Right, well, I would like to give thanks to everyone around this table. Dean and Vernon, it was so wonderful to meet you at the Christmas party last week and I’m so glad you could come today,’ Cynthia began.

‘Thank you for inviting us, Cynthia,’ Vernon said, raising his glass.

‘Oliver, I know how hard things have been for you these past few years and I know we’ve talked it out a number of times but I just want to say … your father would be so proud of the man you’ve become.’

Hayley watched Oliver swallow and shift his eyes to his plate of food.

‘And last but not least,’ Cynthia said, looking to Hayley and Angel. ‘I would like to propose a toast to Agatha and Charlotte. Who came into my house and reminded me it was a home.’ Cynthia raised her glass. ‘To Agatha and Charlotte.’

‘Agatha and Charlotte,’ everyone chorused.

Her cheeks flushed as Oliver caught her eye and mouthed the words ‘Agatha and Charlotte?’ not understanding at all. She shrugged and mimed glugging from a bottle, nodding her head towards Cynthia.

‘My turn!’ Angel announced, munching up half a popover like a hungry guinea pig.

‘Be respectful and don’t mention George Washington,’ Hayley suggested.

Angel cleared her throat. ‘Did you know that the tradition of Christmas lunch in America came from our traditions in the United Kingdom? And in medieval times a pheasant or boar were served up instead of a turkey.’

‘I didn’t know that and my life was a lot poorer for it,’ Hayley said, nodding.

‘I’d like to give thanks for my mum,’ Angel continued. ‘Because she helped me find my dad, even though she really didn’t want to see him again, because she didn’t really remember much about him but she did it anyway and now I’m getting to know him and he’s getting to know me.’ Angel blushed as she finished the sentence. ‘And he’s cooking me a second Christmas dinner tonight and I can’t wait to stay over and thank you, Mum, for letting me. And Oliver, you can take my place in Mum’s Christmas night tradition.’ Angel turned her gaze to Hayley. ‘Share nicer than you do with me.’

‘Is this a good tradition? I’m a little scared right now,’ Oliver said, looking to Angel.

‘We’re talking sausage rolls,’ Hayley said. ‘You’ll be fine.’

‘We’re all really pleased you found your dad, Angel,’ Dean said, smiling at his niece.

Oliver raised his glass. ‘I’d like to give thanks to your mom too.’

‘Oh stop, you’ll make me redder than the cranberry sauce,’ Hayley said, picking up her napkin.

‘I had no idea that a chance meeting around the fire exit at a Chinese restaurant was going to turn my life upside down.’ He smiled. ‘But I do know that trying to escape that night was the best move I ever made.’

‘Slushier than a Slush Puppy,’ Angel remarked, rolling her eyes but smiling at the same time

‘And I want to make a toast to Angel.’ Oliver looked at her. ‘For letting me see the logo before the fundraiser so I could get my speech just right.’

‘You!’ Hayley exclaimed.

‘What can I say? He needed direction,’ Angel responded.

‘To Angel. Who might need some help putting together a model replica of the White House later on,’ Oliver toasted.

Hayley watched Angel’s eyes poke out of her head. ‘I’ve got one?!’

‘To Angel,’ everyone chorused.

Hayley began to cough loudly, clearing her throat and banging her hand on the table. ‘I thought it was women and children first and you jumped the queue, Clark.’ She smiled at her companions. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

She took a breath. ‘I want to say thank you to my brother and Vernon for putting up with all the high drama I seem to have brought to New York with me. I’m just hoping spending time with Angel has made up for it.’

‘It’s all been a pleasure, darling,’ Vernon stated.

‘I love a bit of high drama,’ Dean said.

Hayley looked at Cynthia. ‘Thank you to Cynthia for giving me a wonderful opportunity to use my creativity and also for having faith that I could pull it off. I wasn’t sure myself until the foil butterflies fell from the ceiling and we recaptured the magician’s rabbit, but we did it and it raised loads of money and the press raved about it.’

Everyone clapped their hands together and Hayley did a half bow before sitting still, looking to Angel.

‘What can I say about my girl here? She’s everything to me, my daughter, my best friend and sometimes the biggest pain in the …’

‘Do you know there are at least eleven different words for bottom,’ Angel stated.

‘I was going to say neck,’ Hayley filled in, smiling. ‘She has been the best thing in my life for nine and a half years and I don’t know where I’d be without her.’ She sniffed. ‘And I’m so glad you got your wish. Michel, like me, is so lucky to have a wonderful daughter like you. ’

Hayley waved her hand in front of her face as the tears began to fall.

‘To Angel,’ Oliver offered, lifting his glass.

‘No! Hang on! I haven’t finished yet.’ She composed herself. ‘I want to give thanks for you, Oliver.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re warm and you’re funny and equally complex and completely irritating but you get me and I get you. And when I talk about random things you just instinctively know what to say. I’ve never had that before and I know how challenging I am and … I just want to say …’ She swallowed again, struggling to get the words out. ‘To Oliver.’

‘To Oliver,’ everyone repeated.

‘
D
o you wanna build a snowman
?’ Oliver asked later that afternoon.

‘Oh my,
Frozen
humour? I think that’s been slightly overdone,’ Hayley responded, yawning from her seat on the couch.

‘We can’t move right now. The White House is at a critical stage and it’s only an hour until my dad comes to pick me up,’ Angel exclaimed, her eyes on the building she, Dean and Vernon were constructing.

‘Come on, Hayley, forget
Frozen
, humour
me
. You’ve got new gloves, remember?’ Oliver encouraged. ‘Mom?’ He looked to Cynthia.

‘I’m good here, watching Angel create this masterpiece. I might move in when it’s finished,’ she responded.

‘Come on, up, off the sofa,’ Oliver said, grabbing Hayley’s hand and wrestling her off the couch.

‘This is bullying. We haven’t even opened the chocolates yet,’ Hayley moaned, following him out of the room.

He encouraged her along the corridor towards the back of the house.

‘You do know it’s minus five outside? It’s more likely we’re going to be making an ice man not a snowman.’

‘We’re not going outside,’ Oliver said, pausing by the door to the sun room.

‘We’re not?’

‘No.’ He pushed open the door and let Hayley be the first to look into the room. He watched her clap her hands to her mouth as she saw the decorations all around. Everything she had used to adorn the ballroom of the Crystalline Hotel was here in Cynthia’s garden room. The turquoise drapes at the windows, the balloons, butterfly-shaped candles flickering on every surface, sparkly foil butterflies on the tiled floor. She stepped into the room, a glowing haven from the flakes of snow flurrying down around the house through the dark of the night.

Oliver pressed a button on the sound system and the sound of Maroon 5 filtered out of the speakers.

Hayley nodded. ‘You got me Adam Levine. Finally, you got me Adam Levine.’

‘That’s not all I got you,’ he said.

He stood in front of her, his eyes matching hers, as he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a turquoise blue box.

Hayley gasped. ‘That box is too small for a necklace.’

He nodded.

‘And it’s way too tiny for a bracelet, even.’

Oliver opened it up, his eyes on her, as he revealed the butterfly shaped diamond ring. He heard her intake of breath and he moved then, slipping the ring from the box and holding it, his hand shaking.

‘I know you might think this is too soon but I’m still making every moment count.’ He paused. ‘But for all the right reasons this time.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered.

‘Say you’ll stay. We’ll work everything out. Angel’s schooling, you becoming an event planner, a designer, whatever you want. I just can’t have you going back to England, not even for a minute. I love you, Hayley.’ He dropped down to his knee, the ring between his fingers. ‘Will you marry me?’

The question hung in the air and he waited, watching every nuance of her breathing, looking for an answer of any form.

‘I have a condition before I answer,’ she finally said.

‘Anything. Anything at all.’

‘No more wishes. Only honest promises and taking each day as it comes.’

‘Absolutely. Hand on my heart,’ Oliver said, putting his left hand to his chest.

Hayley smiled. ‘Then the answer is yes!’

‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. ‘Yes!’

‘Give me the ring then,’ Hayley encouraged, shooting her left hand forward.

Oliver carefully slid the ring into place and admired the stones dazzling against her skin as he got to his feet.

‘I love you, Lois,’ he said, drawing her into his embrace.

‘I love you too, Superman.’ She sighed. ‘So, where are we going to live because Angel isn’t going to like cosying up in the one-bedroom penthouse? And if my mother is going to come and visit, you know, after she’s scalded me about my diary, which she will do even though we had a heart to heart, she’s definitely going to want an en-suite.’ She drew her head away from him and gasped. ‘We could get a Red Room.’

He grinned. ‘I don’t know about that, but wherever it is, I’m going to make damn sure it has an elevator.’

‘Mr Drummond!’

He let her have the last word and then, as the snowflakes began to settle on the windows, he pressed his mouth to hers.