their email correspondence – but not happy.
Sophie’s spirits, already lowered by jet lag, descended further. ‘I was offline yesterday, before I left.’
‘Oh honey, that’s a shame! We’ve had a family crisis here and we all have to go to California. We’re packing up now.’
‘Oh.’
‘My mother is sick and I couldn’t leave the kids with someone they don’t know – I’m sure you understand. I emailed you the moment I found out just how sick Mom is. I even tried to call you.’
Sophie found herself about to apologise for not getting the message or picking up the email and then she remembered it wasn’t her fault. She stifled a sigh. She felt deflated. An hour ago she’d been so excited to be here at last and moreover able to fund her trip and now it had all been snatched from her. What on earth was she going to do?
‘Of course we’ll still pay for your return ticket andeverything as we dragged you over here,’ the woman went on. ‘We have your bank details, we can just transfer the money.’ She paused. ‘Have you got somewhere else you can stay? If you need money for a hotel …’
‘Yes. I mean I have got somewhere to stay. I don’t need money for a hotel.’ Milly would help her out, surely. ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll go now.’ What she really wanted to say was, ‘Could you transfer the money right now?’
She had a choice. She could have a panic attack and then ring Milly for help, or she could just ring Milly for help. Although it was fairly scary being alone in a big airport in a strange country she did at least speak the language, sort of, and panic was not constructive. She rang Milly’s mobile.
Milly cursed in quite an Anglo-Saxon way when she heard Sophie’s news but she didn’t prevaricate. ‘Get a taxi to my apartment. Don’t pay more than forty dollars.’ She paused. ‘Have you got forty dollars?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK, but you’ll need to tip him. It’ll take you about an hour. I’ll be waiting, but then I’ll have to come back here. I’m at work.’
‘But it’s nearly ten o’clock at night! And it’s Saturday!’ Sophie felt another surge of panic.
‘I know, but we’ve got our preview tomorrow and there’s loads to do. I think I told you.’
Sophie remembered. Milly had a dream job, working for an artist who was not only famous for the amount of money his work sold for and his generous wages, but for the lavish parties he gave. But his employees worked hard for their money. ‘Oh yes, you did.’
It was only when she was in the taxi she realised that not for a second had she thought about going straight home. How would she have faced her family? How could she havegot so near to Milly and not even seen her, and how could she waste an air fare to New York? Besides, she had a mission, and now she’d have more time to pursue it.
Sure she was doing the right thing, Sophie’s spirits began to lift. She was in New York, about to see her friend, and just being here was practically the same as being Sarah Jessica Parker!
She looked out of the window eager to spot landmarks and famous sights, but then she realised that the airport was quite a way away from the city itself and so she sat back and closed her eyes. She wanted to open them again and actually be in Manhattan.
The blaring of a horn wakened her from her doze. She sat up and looked out of the window, amazed at how familiar everything seemed and how different. Streetlights and billboards glittered and flashed, pulsating with life. Every song lyric or scrap of dialogue about New York she’d ever heard floated through her head, mostly in the voice of Frank Sinatra: ‘The city that never sleeps’; ‘So good they named it twice’; ‘I like to be in America’.
She loved the Americanness of everything: the traffic lights suspended over the multilane highway; the yellow taxis; the bustle. As a child she’d spent quite a lot of time watching her older sister’s video tapes and DVDs and
Sophie’s spirits, already lowered by jet lag, descended further. ‘I was offline yesterday, before I left.’
‘Oh honey, that’s a shame! We’ve had a family crisis here and we all have to go to California. We’re packing up now.’
‘Oh.’
‘My mother is sick and I couldn’t leave the kids with someone they don’t know – I’m sure you understand. I emailed you the moment I found out just how sick Mom is. I even tried to call you.’
Sophie found herself about to apologise for not getting the message or picking up the email and then she remembered it wasn’t her fault. She stifled a sigh. She felt deflated. An hour ago she’d been so excited to be here at last and moreover able to fund her trip and now it had all been snatched from her. What on earth was she going to do?
‘Of course we’ll still pay for your return ticket andeverything as we dragged you over here,’ the woman went on. ‘We have your bank details, we can just transfer the money.’ She paused. ‘Have you got somewhere else you can stay? If you need money for a hotel …’
‘Yes. I mean I have got somewhere to stay. I don’t need money for a hotel.’ Milly would help her out, surely. ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll go now.’ What she really wanted to say was, ‘Could you transfer the money right now?’
She had a choice. She could have a panic attack and then ring Milly for help, or she could just ring Milly for help. Although it was fairly scary being alone in a big airport in a strange country she did at least speak the language, sort of, and panic was not constructive. She rang Milly’s mobile.
Milly cursed in quite an Anglo-Saxon way when she heard Sophie’s news but she didn’t prevaricate. ‘Get a taxi to my apartment. Don’t pay more than forty dollars.’ She paused. ‘Have you got forty dollars?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK, but you’ll need to tip him. It’ll take you about an hour. I’ll be waiting, but then I’ll have to come back here. I’m at work.’
‘But it’s nearly ten o’clock at night! And it’s Saturday!’ Sophie felt another surge of panic.
‘I know, but we’ve got our preview tomorrow and there’s loads to do. I think I told you.’
Sophie remembered. Milly had a dream job, working for an artist who was not only famous for the amount of money his work sold for and his generous wages, but for the lavish parties he gave. But his employees worked hard for their money. ‘Oh yes, you did.’
It was only when she was in the taxi she realised that not for a second had she thought about going straight home. How would she have faced her family? How could she havegot so near to Milly and not even seen her, and how could she waste an air fare to New York? Besides, she had a mission, and now she’d have more time to pursue it.
Sure she was doing the right thing, Sophie’s spirits began to lift. She was in New York, about to see her friend, and just being here was practically the same as being Sarah Jessica Parker!
She looked out of the window eager to spot landmarks and famous sights, but then she realised that the airport was quite a way away from the city itself and so she sat back and closed her eyes. She wanted to open them again and actually be in Manhattan.
The blaring of a horn wakened her from her doze. She sat up and looked out of the window, amazed at how familiar everything seemed and how different. Streetlights and billboards glittered and flashed, pulsating with life. Every song lyric or scrap of dialogue about New York she’d ever heard floated through her head, mostly in the voice of Frank Sinatra: ‘The city that never sleeps’; ‘So good they named it twice’; ‘I like to be in America’.
She loved the Americanness of everything: the traffic lights suspended over the multilane highway; the yellow taxis; the bustle. As a child she’d spent quite a lot of time watching her older sister’s video tapes and DVDs and
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