Looking for Andrew McCarthy (35 page)

BOOK: Looking for Andrew McCarthy
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‘I just … feel my world is a bit, you know, blearrgh.’

He nodded. ‘That blearrgh will be in the ninety-nine per cent of the brain nobody understands. Soon as your brain’s got its food and clothing and shelter issues sorted out it moves directly onto blearrgh. But, we don’t understand that part yet.’

Ellie nodded. ‘I think I’m beginning to catch on.’

‘Well, what have you got? Know any nice guys?’

‘I did meet one,’ said Ellie. ‘I’ve got his telephone number. Then I really fucked him off.’

‘Really?’ he said, sounding concerned. ‘Having someone to love is kind of the most important bit.’

Ellie nodded.

‘But you’ve got his telephone number, right?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Well, that’s something. What about the rest of your life?’

‘Well, I gave up my job to come here.’

He looked shocked.

‘Tell me you didn’t.’

‘Yup. I needed the money and they gave me redundancy. Eventually.’

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked worried.

‘Sorry – please tell me you didn’t quit your job just to come and find me.’

‘Oh! No. Don’t think of it like that.’

‘I told you,’ said the waitress, who’d been valiantly eavesdropping. ‘She’s crazy.’

‘But unarmed,’ said Ellie quickly. ‘And actually, you know, now I think about it, I didn’t give up the job for you. I gave up the job because it sucked and I sucked at it. Sucked big time.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. The only person who had anything to do with it was me.’

‘Thank God. I thought for a moment I was going to have to foster you or something.’

‘Nope. I followed my instincts.’

‘That’s the plan! Remember: we humans understand nothing. Okay. What about your friends?’

‘They’re fantastic,’ she said, smiling. ‘They’re the best.’

‘There you go. Hold onto them. I diagnose no real requirement for blearghh whatsoever.’

‘I suppose not. And I’m going home to take care of my dad.’

He smiled at her.

‘Well, then. You didn’t need to come and see me at all. That is, I assume, that you’re not about to tie me up, dump me in your trunk and chop me into bits.’

‘No. Unless you’d like that.’

‘Okay, hang on.’

He put his hand to his head.

‘Okay. My instincts are saying no, no, no.’

‘Well, alrighty then.’

Suddenly, his pager buzzed.

‘Oy,’ he said, reading it. ‘I’m afraid I have to go and give a press conference – about you of all people.’

‘No, really?’ said Ellie.

‘Yup. You’re my famous stalker, didn’t you know?’

‘No, I did not know that.’

‘Well, I guess you’d better not come with me unless you want to get arrested.’

‘Can’t I come?’

‘I don’t know … what do your instincts tell you about getting arrested?’

She shrugged. ‘Blearggh?’

‘You got it.’

He stood up.

‘I think it is time for me to go to work, and for you to go and try to get the random piece of incomprehensible flotsam in this universe that may or may not make you happy depending on a, you know, whole set of infinitely multiplying parameters that we’d never understand in a billion lifetimes.’

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

‘Thank you. I mean it.’

‘Well! Hey. My work here is done.’

Her eyes followed him as he went to go.

‘See you again Marilu.’

‘No problem,’ said the waitress.

‘Oh!’ he said, as he was nearly at the door. He
turned back to Ellie. ‘I nearly forgot something. You know, it’s my birthday today.’

‘It’s November 29th? Of
course
it is,’ said Ellie.

His eyes sparkled. ‘Want to give me a birthday kiss?’

‘Tongues?’ Ellie couldn’t help herself.


No
. That’s for zero ended birthdays.’

She went towards him slowly, and he put his arm around her very gently and kissed her briefly on the mouth, so softly and sweetly that it was like the only kiss she’d ever wanted – at least, the only kiss she’d ever wanted when she was thirteen years old.

‘Bye,’ he said softly. ‘Good luck.’ He disappeared out into the drizzly snow. Ellie stood and watched him go.

‘I loved you,’ she said quietly to herself. Then she crumpled back into her seat and had a little cathartic weep.

Andrew II straightened up from his hiding place when the original left the coffee house. He had glimpsed Ellie inside, but didn’t want to burst in and rain on her parade. Now, however, he started to stride across the square.

A cab pulled up abruptly outside the shop and four people jumped out quickly, with worried expressions.
He recognized Julia immediately and was about to call out her name when he noticed the ashen look on her face. He stood back as they walked in and over to the girl he knew sitting alone at a table.

Ellie’s face went through nine levels of shock when the four of them walked into the shop.

‘Oh my …’

When they didn’t smile, she squinted at them even harder.

‘You guys … you guys … what are you guys all doing here?’

They all sat down.

Julia swallowed heavily, and reached over and took Ellie’s hand.

‘I met him! Did you see him? He was here and we kissed and …’

‘Ssh,’ said Julia. Ellie scanned their anxious faces then stood up abruptly. Everyone was quiet. She knew at once, but couldn’t say it.

‘What?’

‘Sit down,’ said Julia, not letting go of her hand. ‘Just sit down.’

Arthur asked the waitress for some tea.

Inside Ellie it was like an iceberg calving off and breaking her in two. She couldn’t breathe.

‘It’s my dad, isn’t it? It’s my dad?’

Julia nodded slowly. Colin stifled a sob and buried his head in Arthur’s greatcoat.

‘Is he … did he … is he okay?’

Julia shook her head. Without thinking, Ellie took a swallow of scalding hot tea and didn’t even flinch.

‘He’s dead. Okay. Right. I see. Thanks for telling me.’

‘It was a heart attack,’ said Julia, stroking her arm and continuing to talk in a low, calm voice. ‘It was very quick.’

‘Quick! Great. Lovely …’

She was staring into space. Arthur came and stood behind her and rested his strong hands on her shoulders.

‘We’ll book you your ticket home, we’ll sort that out right away, get everything organized …’

‘Yes,’ said Ellie, bewildered. ‘Yes of course.’

‘And then you’ll have to come and stay with my mother,’ said Julia. ‘She’d love to have you for a couple of weeks.’

‘Yes,’ said Ellie again. ‘Thank you. I’m sure that will be lovely.’

Then, ‘He died all on his own.’

‘I thought everybody died on their own,’ said Colin suddenly. Arthur hushed him.

Ellie turned her face to the wall.

They sat that way, not knowing what to do, for some time. Suddenly Ellie pushed the chair away and stood up.

‘I was going to look after him, you know.’

‘We know,’ said Arthur, putting his hand on her arm.

‘I was going to make sure he ate properly and I was going to make up for everything and …’ She dissolved. ‘And he never knew.’

‘I’m sure he does now,’ said Arthur.

‘Of course he doesn’t!’ she stood up. ‘I’m … I’m off,’ she said. ‘I’m … going …’

‘Don’t dash off again,’ said Arthur. ‘Please. Let us stay with you.’

‘I have to be on my own. For once, I have to be on my own. Okay?’

They nodded and watched as she went up to the waitress and hugged her, then left the store, leaving the others staring after her, aghast.

It had started to snow again and was getting dark. Ellie went through the crowds, finally catching a taxi when she realized how far it was to walk. Her brain was trying to process rather too much information, her feet were aching and it was everything she could do to choke out a destination to the cab driver.

‘Sure. Havin’ a good day?’ he asked her.

Ellie stared out the window and ignored him.

The ice rink in Central Park was busy, and she had to queue to hire skates, passing her own sneakers over blindly. She sat down on the damp wooden benches to lace the skates on. Around her she could hear the shrieks and cries of excited children – with, no doubt, both mothers
and
fathers. Oh. It started to hit her. Her stupid, stupid dad. All those bloody sausages. All that bloody whisky. All her fault. All her mum’s fault. Then her fault. And her dad’s fault. She shook her head to try and clear it.

After a wobble or two, she glided off, the sense memory of her father’s hand in hers very strong now. The music playing was ‘Whistle Down the Wind’, by Nick Heyward.

Ellie avoided the other skaters almost without seeing them and took on a contemplative look, like someone making their way through a railway station at rush hour. Her thoughts felt curiously detached.

Well, she was definitely the grown-up now, that much was for certain. The last line of defence had gone. And now what?

She looked up at the stars beginning to twinkle over Manhattan and thought about it.

What was left? She described a slow lazy figure of eight in the ice.

At home: no dad. No job. Big Bastard. Billy, she supposed. Nothing to make
her happy.

Here …

She pulled up suddenly against the side of the rink. What the hell was she thinking about, ‘here’? There was no ‘here’. This was a trip, a vacation.

She realized she’d just thought the word ‘vacation’, instead of ‘holiday’, and took another thoughtful tour around the ice. Her eyes had started to take on a slightly wild expression, and people were being careful not to get in her way.

I mean, it wasn’t like she didn’t know anyone. Okay, so she didn’t know anyone … but she’d have a bit of money now. Not a lot, but there was the house, she supposed. She could stay for a bit, punt around some more … maybe learn to drive. Properly.

She could waitress, couldn’t she?

And she wouldn’t have to go anywhere with people feeling sorry for her all the time. It had happened to her when she was fourteen, she didn’t think she could bear it happening all over again. People indulging her, letting her do things, behave worse and worse until they got pissed off with her.

Here, nobody knew who she was. She was mysterious, foreign. Travelling. Different. Herself.

She spun around again. And, hell, if she hated it she could always go home. And if she liked it she could always stay. Well. Maybe. She could marry
somebody gay or something. That happened all the time.

She hugged herself tight. The world was full of possibilities. Follow your instincts. Andrew had said that. The world made no sense. Well, now she had had that proven in a fairly dramatic fashion. And if it was going to be a world without her dad in it, she supposed she better make the most of what was left over. Feeling her dad’s hands in hers she started to spin, slowly at first then quicker and quicker as the momentum picked up, as he’d taught her. He just wanted her to be happy. It wasn’t Ikea’s fault. It wasn’t the world’s fault that she didn’t quite fit it. She thought of her mother, for once without rancour. Maybe she’d just been born to run. Maybe, if she did it now, she wouldn’t catch anyone else in the crossfire. Born to run.

The ice shard in her heart felt as if it was on fire now; her chest felt like it would burst. The music sounded louder and louder. She spun until someone bumped into her.

‘Hey!’

‘Sorry!’ she said, jumping around, trying to sound normal, although her eyes and her heart were aflame.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Andrew II, his dirty blond hair protruding from underneath a checked hat. ‘It’s just, I haven’t done this in a while.’

Ellie stood stock still, breathing hard, and stared
at him. The other skaters swerved to avoid them, with the traditional array of colourful New York epithets.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh. Oh. Now. Where the hell did you come from?’

‘Well, I was born in Northern California … no, hang on, don’t go to sleep, you’ll fall over and hurt yourself. I’ll skip the middle bit until we get to “and then I followed you here from the coffee shop”.’

‘You are somebody whose timing could not possibly be worse.’

‘Yeah, that’s what kept me out of cheerleading.’ He stopped trying to gentle her along.

‘I know.’ He reached out and held her hand. ‘Oh, darling. They phoned the house looking for you. I’m so, so sorry.’

She looked up at him, and her voice cracked. ‘Me too.’

‘I’m so sorry you were away.’

Andrew II led her to the wooden slats at the side of the rink and sat her down. After a second Ellie put her head on his shoulder and wept and wept and wept as the cold stars came out over Manhattan.

BOOK: Looking for Andrew McCarthy
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