An English Boy in New York (12 page)

‘Hey, don't worry about it, dude,' Trey said. ‘There'll be another opportunity.'

‘That's not what you said before.'

‘That's true,' he said. ‘That probably
was
your opportunity.'

I sighed.

‘Come on,' he said. ‘I'll take you to a bar, we can get drunk.'

Once I'd explained to Trey that I was underage and didn't much like alcohol anyway, he took me back to 38
^th
Street and parked outside Dino's.

‘Hi, Ben,' said Denise, pointing us to our usual table in the window.

‘Hi, Denise,' I replied.

‘Bad day?'

‘It's that obvious? Could I get a flat white?' I wasn't in the mood for flirtatious banter, even though Denise was wearing a nice low-cut top.

‘Make that two, honey,' Trey said.

‘So,' Trey said, once Denise had gone. ‘You wanna talk about it?'

I shrugged. ‘Not much to say. I wasn't ready. I mean, I'm not ready. I'm small potatoes, you know? I shouldn't be having meetings with big multinationals. I'm just a boy with one design and not enough time.'

‘So, hire more people,' Trey said.

‘I can't afford to pay people with the revenue I'd be getting. It takes too long to knit each Hoopie.'

‘Can you mechanise? Like Henry Ford?'

I shrugged. ‘I suppose. But are people going to want to buy a Hoopie if it's not hand-knitted? People want home-made. They can get cheap machine-bought stuff in the supermarket. I can't compete with that.'

‘Hold up. I need to ask: what the hell is a Hoopie?'

So I showed him.

‘This is beautiful,' he said, feeling the wool. ‘You knitted this by hand?'

‘Yeah, there are a couple of mistakes.'

‘My girlfriend would love this.'

‘Pity she wasn't one of the Dragons,' I said gloomily.

‘What's that?'

‘Never mind. You know what? Take it,' I said suddenly. ‘It's yours. Give it to your girlfriend.'

‘Are you serious?'

‘Sure. I want you to have it.'

He looked at me long and hard. ‘You're a good kid.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Seriously,' Trey said. He reached into his pocket and handed me his card. ‘You call me any time. You need driving somewhere. I'm at your service.'

Denise brought our coffees. ‘Here you go, boys,' she said.

‘So you got a girl?' Trey asked. Or a guy?'

‘A girl,' I said quickly. ‘Definitely a girl.'

‘What's her name?'

‘Megan.'

‘She pretty?'

‘Yes she is.'

‘So how come she didn't come with you?'

‘Her grandmother is unwell,' I said. ‘Her family needs her.'

Trey raised an eyebrow. I took a sip of my coffee.

‘Yeah. I know how that sounds,' I said. ‘And I'm worried she's going off me.'

I told Trey all about my concerns with Megan and Sean. As I poured my heart out, I noticed Gex outside peering in through the window. Keith stood behind him looking up and down the street as if he was waiting for someone. I waved at them and they both came in and sat down and I introduced them to Trey. To his credit, Trey wasn't too appalled by Gex's appearance, even though Gex's jeans were so low slung that the tops of his Primark underpants were fully visible.

‘You gotta fix it, man,' Trey continued after the introductions were complete. He licked coffee foam off his spoon.

‘Fix what?' Gex asked.

‘Megan's been seen with Sean,' I said.

‘Sean?' Gex spat. ‘Not
that
guy again.'

‘You can't let this Sean guy just walk in there and steal her away,' Trey said. ‘What a dick!'

‘I'm not sure there's much I can do.'

‘You want me to fix this guy?' Keith asked, cracking his knuckles.

‘What did you have in mind?' I asked.

‘I could arrange for him to have a little visit from some friends.'

‘You got friends in East Hampshire?' Gex asked eagerly. ‘Sean lives in Liphook.'

This meant nothing to Keith, of course.

‘I saw someone use a lip hook once,' he said, a faraway look in his eye. ‘The guy paid up.'

‘I think sending the Mob around might be a little heavy-handed in any case,' I said. ‘We don't know what's been going on, exactly.'

‘Call her,' Trey said. ‘You got a phone?'

‘I have a BlackBerry,' I said.

‘Call her now.'

So I did. I skyped her. To my surprise, she answered straight away.

‘Hi, Ben,' she said cheerfully. ‘How's the Big Apple?'

‘It's amazing,' I said. It was so good to hear her voice. She was blurry on the little screen but she looked great. ‘I've done some interviews and  …  stuff.'

‘Is Gex there?' she asked.

‘Yes, unfortunately.'

‘
Ask about Sean!
' Gex hissed. I shook my head. It wasn't the right time.

‘Where are you?' she asked, peering at the camera.

‘I'm in a diner.'

‘Are you eating Philly cheesesteak again?'

‘No, just coffee. But I might have Philly cheesesteak for lunch.'

‘Have you had any fruit and veg since you arrived?'

‘A little. But mostly just Philly cheesesteak.'

‘Are you going to come back looking like Eric Pickles?' she asked.

I laughed. ‘No, I have a fast metabolism, I never put on weight.'

Gex made a strange sound then. A bit like a strangled laugh. I gave him an odd look.

‘I have a fast metabolism too, said Megan, laughing. ‘My body converts food very quickly into fat and stores it on my thighs.'

I glanced up at Trey; he was listening to all this with narrowed eyes.

Denise walked by and swiped an empty water glass off the table. Then she leaned across me to grab another one on the far side.

‘Who was that?' Megan asked.

‘That was Denise, the waitress.'

‘She's pretty.'

‘Is she? I hadn't really noticed.'

‘You didn't notice that she just flopped her breasts out in your face?'

‘She was reaching for a glass.'

‘I told you, Ben,' Megan said, with a little sideways smile. ‘Watch out for American girls.'

‘The nerve,' Gex muttered. He made a grab for the phone, but I slapped his hand away.

‘What about
Sean
?' Trey asked loudly.

‘What?' Megan asked. ‘Who was that?'

‘Just some guy at the next table,' I said.

‘Yeah, what about Sean?' Keith asked.

‘
Two
guys at the next table,' I said. ‘Anyway, better go now, Megan.'

‘OK, Ben,' Megan said cheerily. ‘Thanks for calling.'

‘Speak soon, miss you,' I said quickly, fighting Gex off at the same time. I hung up.

‘What are you doing?' Trey asked. ‘Call her back. Why didn't you ask about Sean?'

I shrugged. ‘It just seemed like everything was OK. I didn't want to start a fight.'

‘I don't get you English,' Trey said. ‘You never want to start a fight.'

‘That's not true,' I said defensively. ‘We've started loads of fights.'

‘Yeah, but I'm saying YOU need to start a fight.'

‘That's not me,' I said. ‘I'm more of a drawn-out cold war kind of guy. I have a spy.'

‘You know what I think?' Gex said slowly.

‘Go on,' I said guardedly.

‘I think Megan sounded a little too happy.'

‘Yeah? Well, maybe she was happy that I called?'

‘Maybe,' Gex said, eyeing me coolly. ‘Or maybe she's hiding something.'

‘Nah,' I said confidently.

But now I can't stop thinking about what he said. For a girl who's supposed to be worried about her family, she did seem very smiley.

The sooner I touch base with Marcus the better.

On the way back over the road to the hotel, Gex and Keith in tow, I spotted my homeless guy again. He saw us and ran in our direction.

‘Homeless guy,' Gex yelled. ‘Run!' We sprinted into the hotel lobby just in time. As I stopped to get my breath back, the BlackBerry buzzed.

Maybe it was Brandi's boyfriend or something. I frowned. I had to too much to think about to analyse who the mysterious G was right now.

Up in the room I skyped Ms Gunter. She was eating a Wagon Wheel and looking much more cheerful.

‘Hello, Ben, how are things?'

‘Fine thanks.'

‘No more trouble from immigration?'

‘Funny,' I said. ‘But I'm not ready to laugh about that just yet.'

‘Fair enough.' She took a large bite of her Wagon Wheel. ‘How are your parents?'

‘They're fine. Dad still seems to be struggling with jet lag. Mum told me that yesterday he walked into a glass door at Macy's. Then he got into an altercation with a busker but refuses to tell me exactly what happened there.'

‘And your friend?'

‘Gex? He is spending a lot of time with his cousin. Who I think is a bad influence.'

‘Be careful, Ben,' Ms Gunter said. ‘If this cousin is trouble, then you need to keep well clear.'

‘It's fine,' I said calmly, though I was already worrying about spending the evening with Gex and Keith later. I should probably hole up in my hotel room with a film or something. Stay out of trouble. But someone needs to keep an eye on Gex and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. From an entirely selfish point of view, it wouldn't look good on my probation report to be a known associate of the infamous Gex the Strangler.

2.09pm

I met Brandi for lunch in Dino's. She'd called to say she had something exciting to show me. When she walked into the diner, carrying a towering pile of newspapers and magazines, she was smiling so much her face was like a lighthouse, her teeth like shining searchlights.

‘Take a look, Ben. Take a look,' she said, dropping the pile onto the table. I started looking through the newspapers. Brandi had circled the relevant articles. They were all about me.

‘This is terrible,' I said. ‘I never said all this. I've been misquoted.'

There were more like that. I was even the cover story in one magazine,
Garment Worker
. Brandi held it up proudly.

‘Front cover!'

‘How many people read
Garment Worker
?' I asked, hoping it would be a few dozen.

‘I don't have the figures for
Garment Worker
,' Brandi said. ‘But you'd be surprised. These trade publications have a loyal readership.
Meat Packer
, for example, has a circulation of thirty thousand.'

‘Great.' I said.

‘This is fantastic
publicity
for the KnitFair, Ben!' Brandi said, eyes shining as she read an article in the
Times
.

‘But the stories aren't accurate,' I protested. ‘For a start, it was the All UK Knitting Championships, not the British Knitting Championships.'

‘Yeah, like there's a difference,' Brandi said.

‘There's a big difference,' I said, coldly.

‘Anyway, you won a knitting contest,' Brandi said, pointing to the article. ‘They got that right.'

‘Junior division.'

‘It doesn't matter.'

‘It matters to me!'

She held up the paper. ‘Ben, you're in the
Times
!'

‘But under false pretences!' I cried. Why couldn't she see this wasn't good?

‘Ben, Ben, Ben,' Brandi said, reaching over the table and taking hold of my shoulders. I found myself mesmerised by all the teeth and hair being in such close proximity. ‘It's better if they get the story wrong. That way, you can go to other newspapers and put the story straight.'

‘OK,' I said. ‘Let's do that. For a start I'm going to tell them I can't knit faster than a machine.'

‘Ah,' she said. ‘I'm thinking maybe it would be better if you didn't tell them that?'

‘Why?'

Denise came, Brandi ordered a mineral water.

‘Let me guess,' Denise said, looking at me. ‘Philly cheesesteak.'

‘Er, oh, go on,' I said. As she left I saw the homeless guy wander past outside the glass front. He peered in towards me and I hid behind the menu. Was he stalking me?

‘It's just that I had a call from the Craig something show,' Brandi went on, ignoring my odd behaviour. ‘Do you remember Craig something?'

My eyes narrowed. ‘Oh yes. I remember Craig something. He started all this.'

‘So they're really keen on doing an
event
at KnitFair, they'll sponsor it, in association with Priapia.'

‘What sort of event?' I asked suspiciously, having flashbacks to the terrifying KnitBowl at the London Knitting Fair.