Amber Green Takes Manhattan

He paused to take in their expressions. Marian looked like she’d been turned to stone.

‘Mum? You’ve always said I should seize opportunities – isn’t it great?’

‘Sounds bloody exciting. Congrats, man,’ Dan piped up, filling the silence from Marian. He held his hand out across the table to Rob and then he shook my hand. ‘Got space in your suitcase for me?’

‘Always got a sofa for you, come and visit. You too, Mum, it’s only for an initial three months, so you’d better take advantage of the cheap accommodation.’

Marian forced her mouth into a kind of tight smile. ‘Super, darling, I suppose it sounds great fun,’ she said, before looking me right between the eyes. ‘You must be pleased.’ I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d then hissed. You’d think I’d just told her I was taking him to Helmand Province.

‘Yes, I’m excited, too,’ I offered, ‘and it’s not for long, you know, we’ll be back.’

‘Lovely. When do you go?’ she asked, arms folded across her chest defensively.

‘In a few weeks. We’re just looking into our tickets and visa and we have to sort out living arrangements and then we’ll be off.’

‘A few weeks? Just like that,’ she said.

‘Just like that,’ Dan repeated, impersonating Tommy Cooper. Rob and I both sniggered.

We were wrenched out of some awkward small talk about journey times to New York by a strange smell emanating from the kitchen. Rob noticed it first.

‘That’s smoke,’ he got to his feet. ‘Mum, I think something’s burning.’

We all lifted our noses to the air.

‘God, yes, and your smoke alarm’s not working,’ said Dan, sounding animated for the first time all evening as he leapt up to join Rob on his way to the kitchen.

Marian jumped to her feet, too, calling after them. ‘Oh Lord, it’s the sticky pudding, I forgot all about the bloody pudding. It’ll be ruined.’ She looked stricken.

I pushed my chair away from the table and joined them.

In the kitchen, the three of them were staring at a smoking layer of melted plastic mixed with a toasted toffee pudding. Marian’s eyes had gone glassy and I was afraid she might cry.

‘Left the damn plastic film on it, didn’t I.’ She swallowed, her voice trembling. ‘Some lids you pierce, others you don’t, it’s so bloody confusing.’

‘Bang goes pretending it was home-made,’ Rob remarked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

‘Well, perfect end to a pretty disastrous evening wouldn’t you say?’ Marian remarked finally, once the backdoor had been opened and the pudding placed out of sight on the patio. I didn’t know where to look. ‘Both of my boys are having early mid-life crises and then I nearly set the house on fire.’

‘Come on, Mum, it’s not that bad.’ Dan put a hand on her arm. I noticed he didn’t try to deny the crisis part. She covered her face with her hands and began sobbing into them. Half of me wanted to put my arms around her too and join the group hug, as I’d do if she was my mum, but I had no idea how that might go down. Instead I watched as Rob and Dan enveloped her and the three stood there for a few seconds, hugging. I wondered whether to grab my coat and disappear, but I’d promised Rob I’d stay at his tonight; besides, I was wearing new underwear. Instead I comforted myself with a realisation: Maybe my own family is not so dysfunctional after all.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a23c0be3-ac7b-5ff5-a333-97f618e47987)

‘How bad would you say it was on a scale of one to ten?’ I asked Rob, when we finally made it into bed at his place that evening. We were cuddled up in our usual position, legs entwined, my face pressed into his chest.

‘I’d give it a seven,’ he said eventually.

‘Seven?’ I gasped, lifting my head to look at his. ‘What the hell would a two evening be like?’

‘There’s been worse,’ he whispered nonchalantly, not even opening his eyes. ‘Mum means well, and she does like you, I promise. Now can we go to sleep?’

I lay there for a few minutes, my head too full for sleep. Finally, I rolled over and lifted my phone from the bedside table. I texted Vicky:

Met Rob’s mum – she hates me.

In the morning there was a response from Vicky:

How could anyone hate you? Anyway, is he going to New York?

By that evening, I had filled her in on the whole situation. To say she was excited about the move was an understatement. She did a lap of her garden, singing, ‘Rule Britannia!’, at the top of her voice, while I was still on the phone. She didn’t even seem to mind that I would have to move her stuff out of our flat. The fact we were to be a mere six-hour plane ride away from one another made up for everything. It was just the enthusiasm I needed to make the whole thing feel real. We spent the next thirty minutes discussing all the things we could do together when she came to visit, which included a weekend in the Hamptons, jogging in Central Park, and munching our way through stacks of blueberry pancakes.

I was worried about work, though. Joseph had been strangely elusive almost all day on Monday, holed up in meetings with Jeff, and I was getting increasingly paranoid they were talking about my future at Selfridges.

Eventually, at five o’clock, he returned with a face like thunder saying we needed to ‘up our game’ and that the summer window theme hadn’t exactly ‘set the big wigs on fire’.

‘Not original enough,’ he said. ‘Apparently, we “must try harder”.’ He drew more quote marks in the air with his fingers. ‘What do they want? Windows that chat you up as you walk past?’

‘Actually, there could be an idea in that,’ I muttered, unhelpfully.

As I was leaving work that evening, he pulled me aside. ‘As you can tell it was a heavy day, wasn’t the right time to ask about your sabbatical. I’ll try later in the week, when, hopefully, we’re flavour of the month again. Okay, babe?’

‘Okay, thank you, I really appreciate it.’

‘What are you two gossiping about?’ Shauna asked, bounding over to stick her nosy beak in.

‘Shop windows, what do you think?’ I shot back.

‘Come with ideas tomorrow,’ Joseph added, before giving me a wink.

‘So I think the wink was an indication that it’s basically going to be fine,’ I reported to Rob when he arrived at mine later that evening. We were staying over with each other almost every night at the moment and it was great. I’m having regular sex! I’m eating something other than hummus and pitta bread for dinner most nights! I’m watching the news with someone to explain the repercussions of Brexit!

‘But what will you do if it’s not?’ he asked, confronting the big question that so far I’d been refusing to acknowledge. And he had a point; it could very well go out of my favour if Jeff remained in a foul mood all week.

‘I guess I’ll quit,’ I replied after a beat.

Rob sucked his cheeks in and sighed heavily. ‘Blimey, that’s pressure,’ he said.

‘Yes, it is, but I’m sure I’d get another job when we got back.’

‘That’s a lot of pressure on me, I mean – I make you lose your job just to come with me to New York for three months.’

‘Yes, but I’m not your sheep, Rob, I’ve made the decision too. It’s me that’s taking the risk. Or are you trying to say something else? Are you sure you want me to come to New York with you?’

The words hung in the air between us for a second too long.

‘Rob?’

‘Of course I do, we’ve been through this before – I’d love nothing more. I just want you to be certain too.’