Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

@ElissaJohnson

That’s the key thief/pervert on Craig and Diane! The @NYPD told me she was back in the UK. They #lied! I am so upset.

@ElissaJohnson

She just cursed on live TV! My six-year-old Amber heard it! #fuming

@AmyBNYC to @ElissaJohnson

I didn’t know you hadkids!

@ElissaJohnson to AmyBNYC

I don’t. Amber is mydog

‘Chuck! Chuck Allen!’I repeat back to him. Seth’s mouth drops open. ‘It’s Chuck! The real Chuck!’ I shout to Anders and Mrs Ramirez. They hurry over to me, clutching each other in anticipation. ‘You don’t know how happy I am to hear from you!’ I tellhim.

‘I must say I’m surprised. Birdie and I were so long ago,’ Chuck says, somewhat stiffly. ‘And we didn’t end on the best of terms. I’m very sad to hear she’s been so unwell.’

‘I have a letter for you!’ I squeak, barely able to contain my excitement!

‘Yes, I gather. I’ve been reading about the Menace of Manhattan in the paper. And now, having just seen you on Craig and Diane, I realise that you are in Manhattan because of me. I felt I ought to get in touch.’

Did he just do an irritated sigh? No. Chuck Allen wouldn’tsigh.

‘Where are you?’ I ask, concerned that my reception will go and I won’t get his exact location.

‘I’m on my yacht at New York Harbour. Some friends and I are having a party on the river before I leave for Bali tomorrow.’

‘Bali?’ I spit. ‘Well I need to see you now. Rightnow.’

‘Yeah, the yacht sets sail in about forty minutes. We’re on Pier 78. You’ll spot my yacht. It’s the biggestone.’

‘Okay! I’m on my way. Don’t leave before I’m there. This is so important.’

Chuck sniffs. ‘I’ll do my best, but, as they say, the captain’s word islaw.’

I hang up feeling a swirl of disappointment in my chest. Chuck doesn’t exactly sound like the swoonsome romantic hero I’ve been picturing in my head this past week. I shake the thought away. That doesn’t matter. I’ve found him! Birdie will be so pleased!

‘Right!’ I say, shoving my phone into my bumbag and zipping it up. ‘I have to get to New York Harbour, Pier 78asap.’

‘I could hire a helicopter,’ Anders ponders. ‘It will be a pleasant trip but perhaps a little time-consuming considering…’

‘I think I’ll just catch a cab.’ I walk out into the pavement and stick out myhand.

‘Shall we come?’ Mrs Ramirezasks.

‘I’d be happy to,’ Seth says. ‘I can take an hourout!’

I shake my head. ‘No. No. Thanks for offering, but this is something I need to do alone. I want to sit down and talk to Chuck. To tell him about Birdie. To wait while he reads the letter.’ I look at Anders and Mrs Ramirez. ‘You guys wait back in Gramercy for me. I’ll be there later.’

‘Make sure you give him my number,’ Anders instructs. ‘Tell him that I retain my innocence regarding my intentions with Warner’s face. I was just trying to fix his ends. I did not mean to cut his face with my scissors.’

Four cabs fly past me. I take a deep breath and shout super loudly and, as I’m a dab hand at this now, the next cab screeches to a halt right next tome.

That will never getold!

‘Call me if you need any help,’ Seth says. ‘I guess I should go back to work but… I’ll call you later?’

‘Yeah,’ I smile, getting in the cab and trying not to think about how sad I feel that our destiny was to be nothing more than fling. ‘I’ll speak to you in a little while.’ I close the door of the cab. ‘New York Harbor,’ I say breathlessly to the driver.

He turns around, his dark eyebrows raised. ‘You want me to step onit?’

I break into a massive smile. ‘Yes please!’

So he does. And as he screeches off the sidewalk I turn to see Anders, Mrs Ramirez and Seth waving madly behindme.

My heart lifts at the sight of these three people. People I never expected to meet. People I now really care about and, I think, care aboutme.

How lucky amI?

* * *

I reachNew York Harbour exactly thirty-eight minutes later. Handing over a wad of dollar bills to the driver, I dive out of the taxi and race to Pier 78 as fast as I can, praying that he hasn’t left yet. I look around for the biggest yacht, spotting a really ostentatious one right at the end of the pier, lit up with hundreds of twinkling lights.

It’s breezy tonight and all the boats are rocking from side to side. I sprint towards the yacht, thanking heavens that I got here on time, but just as I reach the bow a massively obnoxious-sounding horn blares out and, oh my goodness, the ship starts tomove!

Shiiiiit! It can’t be leaving! I’m only two minutes late! Oh no! Nooooo.

‘Stop! Don’t leave,’ I shout as loudly as I can, my voice cracking with desperation. But no one hears me! Argh. I run around in a little circle of panic. Chuck said he’s going to Bali tomorrow. I have to see him now! I can’t let him get away after all this. Fuck! I cannot let Birdie down. I promised her. I promised myself.

I hear Birdie’s voice in myhead.

Come on, Olive! Be brave!

And then I do one of the most dangerous, unsafe, ridiculous things I’ve done in my safe little life. I run at the pier, hoping that my legs are strong enough to jump far enough to land on the hull deck. They have to be! I’ve done so much walking thisweek!

With all my might and all my strength and every last speck of hope I possess, I make thejump.

And Imiss.

It feels like slow motion as I drop into the ocean like arock.

My whole body sinks deep under the river, the water flooding into my nose and ears. I feel my head start to swirl in panic, my limbs get shaky withfear.

Fuck. This isn’t good. I knew I had a good reason for my fear of deep water!

I hear Birdie’s voice again, as clear as a bell. ‘Don’t be a dick, Brewster. Don’t drown. Swim! You’re so close!’

She’s right. Drowning right now would be a total dick move. After everything, I cannot drown!

I try to relax my limbs and focus my brain like I’ve been practising since Phyllis showed me how. I repeat the words she taught me at Trickys. ‘If I relax, this willpass.’

By not panicking, by allowing myself to relax, my legs and arms start to work. I kick and swim up to the surface of the water, my dress billowing softly around me. Taking in a huge gulp of air, I tread the water as best as I can without falling into freak-out mode again.

Above me, the yacht looms large, blurry from all the water in my eyes. I spot a couple chatting by the upper deck, sipping champagne, completely oblivious to my murky struggle.

‘Help!’ I call out. ‘Heeeeellllp!’

But they can’t hear me over the strains of shit dance music coming from the boat. I can’t quite believe Birdie’s Big Sexy Love listens to such shit music!

Kicking my legs furiously to stay afloat, I wonder what to do. It’s brassic cold in this river, so I need to make a decision very quickly. I can swim back to the dock, risking the chance to ever get Birdie’s letter to Chuck. Or Ican…

I don’t know! I don’t know what todo!

Suddenly I see a flash of pink in the water. It’s my bumbag.

I gasp, getting an idea! It’s a long shot, but…

Still treading water, I reach into the front pocket of the bumbag, being careful not to disturb the main zip and damage the waterproof integrity of the bag and Birdie’s letter, and yank out my Rescue Remedy. I haven’t been using it these past few days so the bottle is still almostfull!

I focus on the couple I can see on the yacht and, with all my might, I lob the bottle up towards the top deck. I watch as it sails slowly, beautifully through the nightsky.

Don’t miss! Don’tmiss!

The Rescue Remedy arcs down and – yes! It skims the man’s shoulder!

Yesssss!

All at once the couple lean over the railings of the yacht.

I can’t hear what they’re saying over the sound of the shit music but they are pointing and gesturing dramatically.

Suddenly a bunch of other people appear at the barriers, peering down at me in shock.

One of them throws down a rope ladder so that it hangs over the side of the boat. With the last of my energy, I swim towards it and clingon.

Well, that was a closecall.

* * *

After one ofChuck’s staff takes me below deck to shower off the river water, I dress in a soft white robe monogrammed with CA initials, and wait in Chuck’s private quarters, a sumptuous room decorated in burgundy andgold.

I’m waiting for fifteen minutes before the door opens and Chuck strides in. Woah. He is ridiculously, preposterously good-looking. I had wondered if, in the years since Anders’ college picture was taken, Chuck might have aged like the rest of us humans. But nope. He still looks like a twenty-one-year-old god. He’s wearing a black party tuxedo and his hair is dark, glossy and slicked to the side like Don Draper in Mad Men. He has a set of perfect white teeth, a tanned healthy face and gorgeous long-lashed brown eyes that put George Clooney’s to shame.

‘Hello!’ I say, standing up and immediately handing him Birdie’s letter, which, having been zipped tightly in the inside pocket of my waterproof bumbag is perfectly intact. Ha! Everyone who laughed at my bumbag can suck it! It totally saved theday!

‘That was quite a risky move out there, don’t you think?’ Chuck says as he sits formally on an armchair opposite me and peers at the envelope. He doesn’t even say hello!

‘Um, well. I had to get this letter toyou.’

‘I see. You’ve certainly gone to great lengths.’

‘Birdie is very important to me,’ I tell him. ‘I promised her I’d give you that letter. You’ve been so hard to find! I was starting to think you didn’t exist for a moment there.’

‘I like to live off the grid,’ Chuck sniffs, his eyes running over my damp face. ‘I found myself being locked into a world of screens and social media and the alpha world of investment banking. It was suffocating. It almost ruined my relationship.’

His relationship? Chuck is in a relationship? Huh. I suppose a part of me had been secretly hoping he’d read Birdie’s letter and decide that she was his Big Sexy Love too. That he’d fly back to England with me to reunite with his sweetheart.

I guessnot.

Chuck leans back into his chair and crosses his legs. ‘I’m lucky enough to be able to travel the world. I have real adventures rather than watching those of other people play out on Instagram and Facebook. I chose to take it the opportunities my wealth has given to me. To privately enjoy my life with Warner.’

Warner? I screw up my face. Why do I know thatname?

Wait. Warner? Anders’ college room-mate Warners?

‘Redheaded Warner?’ I splutter.

Chuck nods, frowning. ‘You knowhim?’

Wow. Chuck is gay. All this time, Anders thought that they left him out because they disliked him, when really it was because they were actually together?

‘I know Anders von Preen. I believe you and Warner were at college withhim?’

Chuck curls his lip a little. ‘Von Preen? Wow, that’s certainly a blast from the past. Anders von Preen! Creepyguy.’

‘Actually he’s a really lovely talented guy,’ I snip. ‘With a great sense of style and a kind heart.’

I cover an irritated huff. Chuck Allen is… not what I expected.

‘Why don’t you open the letter!’ I say quickly. ‘That’s why I’m here, afterall!’

Chuck nods. ‘Yes. Yes, all rightthen.’

I watch, wide-eyed, as he slowly peels open the envelope, pulling out sheets of thick, expensive-looking paper.

I smile to myself as he unfolds the paper and starts to read. I can’t believe he’s here! I found him! He’s here and he’s actually, finally reading Birdie’s letter! I wonder what itsays!

Then Chuck’s face turns from cool and serene to absolutely furious. His tanned cheeks flush beetroot red and he stands up from his chair with agasp.

‘What the hell is this?’ he says angrily, holding the papers up in theair.

I stand up too. ‘Wh-what is it? What’s wrong?’

Chuck shakes his head. ‘You think this is funny?”

I blink, completely confused. ‘I don’t understand,’ I try. ‘What’s the matter?’

Chuck looks me up and down furiously. ‘I’ll have someone call a speedboat to come and collect you as soon as your clothes are dry. You are no longer a guest on my yacht.’

Chuck screws up the papers of Birdie’s letter and throws them onto the floor, storming across the room. Before he leaves he whips around and takes one last angry look at me. ‘You really are a menace. Get out of NewYork!’

As he slams the door behind him, I bend down to pick up Birdie’s letter with shaking hands.

I start toread…

Dear Chuck,

I just wanted to say that you were a real dick of a boyfriend. I loved you. And you let me love you so that your parents wouldn’t find out you were gay!! If you’d have told me, I’d have been happy to beard for you! I am cool like that. Or I could have helped you to come out to them when you were ready. But you let me fall in love with you. And you let me believe that you were straight. That you loved me too. That we would go to England, to university together. That sucks. And for me to find out the truth by walking in on you with my next door neighbour Quiet Bruce who turned out not to be so quiet at all? That was not cool, Chuck. Not. Cool. You were an asshole. I bet you are still an asshole. I hope not. But I bet youare.

ANYWAY. This whole thing is not about you. Please pass this letter back to my friend Olive who I am assuming is somewhere nearby. The next letter is forher.

Bye bye, Chuck. Be happy.

I half laughin complete disbelief and quickly pull out the next sheet of paper. It’s covered in Olive’s loopy messy handwriting.

Olive,

There youare.

Hey.

Don’t be mad at me! Oh god, you’re going to be so mad at me, I know. But let me explain.

Okay, so I kind of tricked you into going to New York. But it wasn’t meant to be a mean trick. It was meant to be a magicalgift.

As you know, I won’t be here for a great deal more time. I know you get sad when I’m so upfront about it, but I’ve made my peace with what’s happening. I promise you. I’ve had a gorgeous life. I really, really have. I’ve travelled, I’ve loved, I’ve laughed ’til I peed my pants (mostly thanks to you) and cried until my nose was so blocked I could barely breathe, I’ve had heartbreaks and fights and scary times and joyful times. I’ve lived. I’ve really lived!

And I got to know you. I was so alone when I moved to Manchester. I was supposed to be here with Chuck, I was wrestling with this shitty illness and I didn’t have anyone. And then you happened. And you loved me. Right away you loved me. You welcomed me into your life and let me talk at you for hours, helped me plot my adventures, rant about daft men, sat with me in hospital waiting rooms, introduced me to Kit Kats dipped in tea and bought me cool iridescent Band-Aids so that my blood draw marks were stylishly covered. You’ve been my sidekick since the day we met, no questions asked, no mugging for the spotlight. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve loved every minute of it. As you knew I would.

But now I have other plans (maybe we should pretend that I’m just going on a long holiday???) and I wonder about you. What will you do? Who will you be? Because the truth is, Brewster, as much as I adore you, I can see you’re not happy. And I know you never want to talk about you, to talk about your shitty parents and all that worrying you do. But this is my letter. And you have to read it. So I’m gonna say what I need to say. So there.

My darling, you’re living a half-life. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh. I don’t mean to throw shade on your whole existence – I love you. But you are so much more than you think. You don’t see how much you shine. But I do. I always have. You are a diamond-covered sunshine, dude. You’re so comical and kind in a sophisticated non-martyrish way. Underneath all that scared demeanour is a total badass. I’m sure of it! And that’s why I sent you on thistrip.

I couldn’t give a shit about Chuck Allen (don’t be mad!!). Because Chuck Allen is not my Big Sexy Love. You are, Olive Brewster. You’re my Big Sexy Love! My best buddy. My favourite person. The love I have for you is so much more epic than I’ve had for any boyfriend. And that’s why, in a totally cruel-to-be-kind way, I forced you into going to New York under a misapprehension. I knew you wouldn’t ever do anything like this without some serious forcing. And what works more than a dying wish? Nothing, that’s what! I have all of the power, muu haaa (how do you spell the evil laugh? You get what I mean, right?).

So. You’re due to arrive here at the hospital for a visit in less than an hour and I feel giddy at the thought of my big sneaky plan being put into motion. It’s the most excited I’ve felt in years. You see, New York is the greatest city in the world for someone like you. I know that just by being in NYC, by being terrified and thrown in at the deep end, you’ll find adventure. Because that’s what New York does. It gets under your skin! It drives you a little crazy! And sending you off on a wild goose chase seems like a good idea to me right now. I had a lot of medicine this morning though, so I’m a little bithigh…

Shit. I hope this is the right idea. I hope you see some eye-opening things (the view from the roof at the Airbnb I’ve booked is insane! I hope you see that! The amount of people openly taking craps on the sidewalk is also insane in a different way – I hope you don’t see that). I dearly hope you meet some interesting people. I hope that by doing this you will see how much you shine. Because I won’t be here to keep telling you. And you need toknow.

You are destined for great things, my darling.

I can’t wait to see you when you getback.

Don’t be mad at me. You can’t be mad at a sick person. It’s against the rules.

All my love forever,

Your Birdie.

I stare at the letter,my tears falling onto the paper. I don’t want to smudge it, so I clasp it to my chest, laughing as I cry. I pull my mobile out of my bumbag and go to dial Birdie’s number – sod sleep – I want to hear her voice right now! I cannot believe she has done this! The letter was for me! Chuck Allen was a gigantic ruse and all this time, it was forme!

Looking at my phone, I notice eight missed calls from Alex. Eight? He must have tried calling while I was doing my stupid yacht jump. Shit. I hope he’sokay.

I immediately press his number on the screen. He answers after barely half aring.

‘Alex? It’s Olive! Are you okay? Is Donnaokay?’

‘Olive,’ he says, his voice full of anguish. ‘I’ve been trying to ring you all night.’

‘My phone has been on silent. I only just saw. What’s the matter?’

Alex’s voice breaks. ‘It’s… Birdie.’

Oh god. Oh god. No!

‘She… Birdie had a heart attack. She was rushed into emergency surgery last night..’

‘Oh my god. Is she okay?’ I hear a funny clicking noise and realise it’s the phone banging against my earring because my hands are shaking so much. ‘Please tell me she’s okay, Alex?’

‘The emergency surgery went well but when they tried to wake her up she… Well, she’s not responding now. She’s in a coma. I’m so sorry, Olive.’

The room swims before me. Bile rises in my throat.

‘I’m coming back now. Do not leave herside.’

‘Donna wants meto—’

‘I do not care what Donna wants. If you love me at all you will stay by Birdie’s side and you will hold her hand until I get there.’

I hangup.

I need to get home rightnow.