Still Me
Page 63
For perhaps the first time since I had arrived in New York I wished I hadn’t come. I was still in last night’s clothes, stale and crumpled, which made me feel even worse. I sniffed quietly and wiped my nose with a paper napkin while staring at the mug in front of me. Outside, life in Manhattan continued, oblivious, fast-moving, ignoring the detritus that piled up in the gutter. What do I do now, Will? I thought, a huge lump rising in my throat.
As if on cue my phone pinged.
What the bloody hell is going on? wrote Nathan. Call me, Clark.
And, despite myself, I smiled.
Nathan said there was no bloody way I was going to stay in a bloody hostel in bloody God knew where, with the rapists and the drug-dealers and God knew what. I was to wait until seven thirty when the bloody Gopniks had left for bloody dinner and I was to meet him at the service entrance and we would work out what the hell to do next. There was quite a lot of swearing for three text messages.
When I arrived his anger was uncharacteristically undimmed.
‘I don’t get it. It’s like they just ghosted you. Like a ruddy Mafiosi code of silence. Michael wouldn’t tell me anything other than it was a “matter of dishonesty”. I told him I’d never met a more honest person in my bloody life and they all needed their heads looking at. What the hell happened?’
He had shepherded me into his room off the service corridor and closed the door behind us. It was such a relief to see him it was all I could do not to hug him. I didn’t, though. I thought I’d probably clutched enough men in the last twenty-four hours.
‘For Chrissakes. People. You want a beer?’
‘Sure.’
He cracked open two cans and handed one to me, sitting down on his easy chair. I perched on the bed and took a sip.
‘So … well?’
I pulled a face. ‘I can’t tell you, Nathan.’
His eyebrows shot somewhere towards the ceiling. ‘You too? Oh, mate. Don’t tell me you –’
‘Of course not. I wouldn’t steal a teabag from the Gopniks. But if I told you what really happened it would … it would be disastrous. For other people in the house … It’s complicated.’
He frowned. ‘What? Are you saying you took the blame for something you didn’t do?’
‘Sort of.’
Nathan rested his elbows on his knees, shaking his head. ‘This isn’t right.’
‘I know.’
‘Someone’s got to say something. You know he was thinking about calling the cops?’
My jaw might have dropped.
‘Yeah. She persuaded him not to, but Michael said he was mad enough to do it. Something about an ATM?’
‘I didn’t do it, Nathan.’
‘I know that, Clark. You’d make a crap criminal. Worst poker face I ever saw.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘Dammit. You know, I love my job. I like working for these families. I like Old Man Gopnik. But every now and then it’s like they remind you, you know? You’re basically just expendable. Doesn’t matter how much they say you’re their mate and how great you are, how much they depend on you, yada-yada-yada, the moment they don’t need you any more or you’ve done something they don’t like, bang. You’re out the door. Fairness doesn’t even come into it.’
It was the longest thing I’d heard Nathan say since I got to New York.
‘I hate this, Lou. Even knowing so little it’s clear to me you’re being shafted. And it stinks.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Complicated?’ He gazed at me steadily, shook his head again and took a long swig of his beer. ‘Mate, you’re a better person than I am.’
We were going to order takeout but just as Nathan was climbing into his jacket to head off to the Chinese restaurant there was a knock at the door. We looked at each other in horror and he motioned me into the bathroom. I skidded in and closed the door silently behind me. But as I stood wedged up against his towel rail I heard a familiar voice.
‘Clark, it’s okay. It’s Ilaria,’ said Nathan, a moment later.
She was in her apron, holding a pot with a lid on it. ‘For you. I hear you talking.’ She held the pot towards me. ‘I made it for you. You need to eat. It’s the chicken you like, with the pepper sauce.’
‘Aw, mate.’ Nathan clapped Ilaria on the back. She stumbled forwards, recovered and placed the pot carefully on Nathan’s desk.
‘You made this for me?’
Ilaria was prodding Nathan in the chest. ‘I know she does not do this thing they say. I know plenty. Plenty that goes on this apartment.’ She tapped her nose. ‘Oh, yes.’
I briefly lifted the lid – delicious smells seeped out. I suddenly remembered I had barely eaten all day. ‘Thanks, Ilaria. I don’t know what to say.’
‘Where you go now?’
‘I haven’t got a clue.’
‘Well. You’re not staying in a hostel in bloody Bensonhurst,’ Nathan said. ‘You can stay here for a night or two to sort yourself out. I’ll lock my door. You won’t say anything, will you, Ilaria?’
She pulled an incredulous face, like it was stupid of him even to ask.
‘She’s been cursing your woman out all afternoon like you wouldn’t believe. Says she sold you down the river. She made them a fish thing for dinner that she knows they both hate. I tell you, mate, I’ve learnt a whole new bunch of swear words today.’
Ilaria muttered something under her breath. I could only make out the word puta.
The easy chair was too small for Nathan to sleep in and he was too old fashioned to countenance me sleeping in it so we agreed to share his double bed with an arrangement of cushions down the middle to protect us from accidentally touching each other in the night. I’m not sure who was more ill-at-ease. Nathan made a great show of shepherding me into the bathroom first, making sure I’d locked the door, and waiting for me to get into bed before he emerged from his ablutions. He was in a T-shirt and striped cotton pyjama bottoms, and even then I didn’t know where to look.
‘Bit weird, eh?’ he said, climbing in.
‘Um, yes.’ I don’t know if it was shock or exhaustion or just the surreal turn of events but I started to giggle. And then the giggle turned into tears. And before I knew it I was sobbing, hunched over in a strange bed, my head in my hands.
‘Aw, mate.’ Nathan plainly felt awkward hugging me while we were actually in bed together. He kept patting my shoulder and leaning in towards me. ‘It’ll be all right.’
‘How can it be? I’ve lost my job and my place to live and the man I loved. I’ll have no references, because Mr Gopnik thinks I’m a thief, and I don’t even know which country I belong in.’ I wiped my nose on my sleeve. ‘I’ve messed up everything again and I don’t know why I even bother trying to be something more than I was because every time I do it ends in disaster.’
‘You’re just tired. It’ll be all right. It will.’
‘Like it was with Will?’
‘Aw … that was completely different. Come on …’ Nathan hugged me then, pulling me into his shoulder, his big arm around me. I cried until I couldn’t cry any more and then, just as he said, exhausted by the day’s – and night’s – events, I must have fallen asleep.
I woke eight hours later to find myself alone in Nathan’s room. It took me a couple of minutes to work out where I was and then the previous day’s events hit me. I lay under the duvet for a while, curled up in a foetal ball, wondering idly if I could just stay there for a year or two until my life had somehow sorted itself out.
I checked my phone: two missed calls and a series of messages from Josh that seemed to have come through in a clump late the previous evening.
Hey, Louisa – hope you’re feeling okay. Kept thinking about your dance and bursting out laughing at work! What a night! Jx
You okay? Just checking you did make it home and didn’t take another nap in Times Square ;-) Jx
Okay. So it’s now gone ten thirty. I’m going to guess you headed to bed to sleep it off. Hope I didn’t offend you. I was just kidding around. Give me a call x
As if on cue my phone pinged.
What the bloody hell is going on? wrote Nathan. Call me, Clark.
And, despite myself, I smiled.
Nathan said there was no bloody way I was going to stay in a bloody hostel in bloody God knew where, with the rapists and the drug-dealers and God knew what. I was to wait until seven thirty when the bloody Gopniks had left for bloody dinner and I was to meet him at the service entrance and we would work out what the hell to do next. There was quite a lot of swearing for three text messages.
When I arrived his anger was uncharacteristically undimmed.
‘I don’t get it. It’s like they just ghosted you. Like a ruddy Mafiosi code of silence. Michael wouldn’t tell me anything other than it was a “matter of dishonesty”. I told him I’d never met a more honest person in my bloody life and they all needed their heads looking at. What the hell happened?’
He had shepherded me into his room off the service corridor and closed the door behind us. It was such a relief to see him it was all I could do not to hug him. I didn’t, though. I thought I’d probably clutched enough men in the last twenty-four hours.
‘For Chrissakes. People. You want a beer?’
‘Sure.’
He cracked open two cans and handed one to me, sitting down on his easy chair. I perched on the bed and took a sip.
‘So … well?’
I pulled a face. ‘I can’t tell you, Nathan.’
His eyebrows shot somewhere towards the ceiling. ‘You too? Oh, mate. Don’t tell me you –’
‘Of course not. I wouldn’t steal a teabag from the Gopniks. But if I told you what really happened it would … it would be disastrous. For other people in the house … It’s complicated.’
He frowned. ‘What? Are you saying you took the blame for something you didn’t do?’
‘Sort of.’
Nathan rested his elbows on his knees, shaking his head. ‘This isn’t right.’
‘I know.’
‘Someone’s got to say something. You know he was thinking about calling the cops?’
My jaw might have dropped.
‘Yeah. She persuaded him not to, but Michael said he was mad enough to do it. Something about an ATM?’
‘I didn’t do it, Nathan.’
‘I know that, Clark. You’d make a crap criminal. Worst poker face I ever saw.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘Dammit. You know, I love my job. I like working for these families. I like Old Man Gopnik. But every now and then it’s like they remind you, you know? You’re basically just expendable. Doesn’t matter how much they say you’re their mate and how great you are, how much they depend on you, yada-yada-yada, the moment they don’t need you any more or you’ve done something they don’t like, bang. You’re out the door. Fairness doesn’t even come into it.’
It was the longest thing I’d heard Nathan say since I got to New York.
‘I hate this, Lou. Even knowing so little it’s clear to me you’re being shafted. And it stinks.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Complicated?’ He gazed at me steadily, shook his head again and took a long swig of his beer. ‘Mate, you’re a better person than I am.’
We were going to order takeout but just as Nathan was climbing into his jacket to head off to the Chinese restaurant there was a knock at the door. We looked at each other in horror and he motioned me into the bathroom. I skidded in and closed the door silently behind me. But as I stood wedged up against his towel rail I heard a familiar voice.
‘Clark, it’s okay. It’s Ilaria,’ said Nathan, a moment later.
She was in her apron, holding a pot with a lid on it. ‘For you. I hear you talking.’ She held the pot towards me. ‘I made it for you. You need to eat. It’s the chicken you like, with the pepper sauce.’
‘Aw, mate.’ Nathan clapped Ilaria on the back. She stumbled forwards, recovered and placed the pot carefully on Nathan’s desk.
‘You made this for me?’
Ilaria was prodding Nathan in the chest. ‘I know she does not do this thing they say. I know plenty. Plenty that goes on this apartment.’ She tapped her nose. ‘Oh, yes.’
I briefly lifted the lid – delicious smells seeped out. I suddenly remembered I had barely eaten all day. ‘Thanks, Ilaria. I don’t know what to say.’
‘Where you go now?’
‘I haven’t got a clue.’
‘Well. You’re not staying in a hostel in bloody Bensonhurst,’ Nathan said. ‘You can stay here for a night or two to sort yourself out. I’ll lock my door. You won’t say anything, will you, Ilaria?’
She pulled an incredulous face, like it was stupid of him even to ask.
‘She’s been cursing your woman out all afternoon like you wouldn’t believe. Says she sold you down the river. She made them a fish thing for dinner that she knows they both hate. I tell you, mate, I’ve learnt a whole new bunch of swear words today.’
Ilaria muttered something under her breath. I could only make out the word puta.
The easy chair was too small for Nathan to sleep in and he was too old fashioned to countenance me sleeping in it so we agreed to share his double bed with an arrangement of cushions down the middle to protect us from accidentally touching each other in the night. I’m not sure who was more ill-at-ease. Nathan made a great show of shepherding me into the bathroom first, making sure I’d locked the door, and waiting for me to get into bed before he emerged from his ablutions. He was in a T-shirt and striped cotton pyjama bottoms, and even then I didn’t know where to look.
‘Bit weird, eh?’ he said, climbing in.
‘Um, yes.’ I don’t know if it was shock or exhaustion or just the surreal turn of events but I started to giggle. And then the giggle turned into tears. And before I knew it I was sobbing, hunched over in a strange bed, my head in my hands.
‘Aw, mate.’ Nathan plainly felt awkward hugging me while we were actually in bed together. He kept patting my shoulder and leaning in towards me. ‘It’ll be all right.’
‘How can it be? I’ve lost my job and my place to live and the man I loved. I’ll have no references, because Mr Gopnik thinks I’m a thief, and I don’t even know which country I belong in.’ I wiped my nose on my sleeve. ‘I’ve messed up everything again and I don’t know why I even bother trying to be something more than I was because every time I do it ends in disaster.’
‘You’re just tired. It’ll be all right. It will.’
‘Like it was with Will?’
‘Aw … that was completely different. Come on …’ Nathan hugged me then, pulling me into his shoulder, his big arm around me. I cried until I couldn’t cry any more and then, just as he said, exhausted by the day’s – and night’s – events, I must have fallen asleep.
I woke eight hours later to find myself alone in Nathan’s room. It took me a couple of minutes to work out where I was and then the previous day’s events hit me. I lay under the duvet for a while, curled up in a foetal ball, wondering idly if I could just stay there for a year or two until my life had somehow sorted itself out.
I checked my phone: two missed calls and a series of messages from Josh that seemed to have come through in a clump late the previous evening.
Hey, Louisa – hope you’re feeling okay. Kept thinking about your dance and bursting out laughing at work! What a night! Jx
You okay? Just checking you did make it home and didn’t take another nap in Times Square ;-) Jx
Okay. So it’s now gone ten thirty. I’m going to guess you headed to bed to sleep it off. Hope I didn’t offend you. I was just kidding around. Give me a call x
