too. Great. We’ve been waiting for you. Everyone’s ready to start.’
‘Well then, I guess this is it,’ Henry said, turning back to Cassie. He took a deep breath and smiled at her. For all the forty-two-inch chest and bear-paw hands, he looked at that moment just like the little brother she remembered.
‘Good luck with the expedition,’ she said. ‘When will you be back?’
He shrugged. ‘Depends on the weather and acts of God. But hopefully by June.’ He held her lightly by the shoulders as he kissed her goodbye. ‘Well, see you around.’
She looked up at him and gave a small smile. He was going to the end of the world and she might not see him for another ten years. ‘Yes, see you Henry.’ They stared at each other for a moment. ‘And be sure to ring your mum.’
He chuckled as the lift doors trilled open and she stepped back in. She stood at the back of the elevator, holding her green handbag over her tummy, her poker-straight, baby-blonded hair fluttering softly under the air-con. And then the doors slid shut and he was gone.
Cassie checked her watch. It was nudging five. Strictly speaking she ought to go back to Bebe at the studio, but she couldn’t face being party to any more character assassinations today. She felt the sadness which she was trying so hard to keep under wraps pushing up like a malevolent jack-in-the-box, and she wasn’t convinced that even the shock of Bebe’s cruelty or the mania that passed as a typical working day here would be enough to divert her attention.
It was because she was tired, she knew. She and Kelly had gone out every night for the week and a half she’d been here – very often after eleven, when Kelly was done with her work functions and just when Cassie’s body was curling itself into sleep – and tonight she really didn’t want to ‘check in’ and have Kelly organize her evening for her. She didn’t want to eat raw fish or super beans. She wanted to eat a burger and drink a goddamn cup of tea. Her constitution demanded it in the way Kelly’s needed adrenalin or Anouk’s needed satin bras. She wanted to curl up on the sofa and read a book. If her feet weren’t so sore, she’d maybe have taken a detour and gone for a walk in Central Park on the way back. It might have helped clear her head. Ever since the Botox injections, she’d had a dull headache she just couldn’t shift, and vats of cocktails and scarcely any sleep weren’t helping. But the four-inch-heeled boots Kelly had left out for her before she left that morning – she had actually numbered her outfits for her after Cassie’s disastrous freelance effort – left no room for negotiation. They were called ‘limo shoes’ for a reason.
Having darted into Dean & Deluca to buy dinner, she decided to treat herself and caught a cab home. She let herself into the apartment and immediately filled a small saucepan with water and put it on to boil. Pulling a box of teabags slyly out of her shopping bag – not PG, but better than nothing – she found a cup at the back of Kelly’s underwear cupboard, although traces of soil in the bottom of it suggested it had last been used as a flowerpot.
As the water started to bubble, Cassie changed out of her dress and pulled on a pair of NYC grey joggers and a matching navy hoodie that she’d bought at a tourist shop down the block. She craved this time of the day before Kelly got back and gave her the evening itinerary. And tonight, since Kelly was expecting to meet her at Raoul’s at six, she was going to get a bonus hour of peace and quiet and rest.
She already knew that she was going to spend most of it crying. The first call from her divorce lawyer had come through earlier this afternoon and she could feel the tears – swallowed down in front of Bebe – pumping from her heart and moving through her body like a secondary blood supply. It seemed to be the only way to mobilize the pain, to expel it like carbon monoxide or some other toxin
‘Well then, I guess this is it,’ Henry said, turning back to Cassie. He took a deep breath and smiled at her. For all the forty-two-inch chest and bear-paw hands, he looked at that moment just like the little brother she remembered.
‘Good luck with the expedition,’ she said. ‘When will you be back?’
He shrugged. ‘Depends on the weather and acts of God. But hopefully by June.’ He held her lightly by the shoulders as he kissed her goodbye. ‘Well, see you around.’
She looked up at him and gave a small smile. He was going to the end of the world and she might not see him for another ten years. ‘Yes, see you Henry.’ They stared at each other for a moment. ‘And be sure to ring your mum.’
He chuckled as the lift doors trilled open and she stepped back in. She stood at the back of the elevator, holding her green handbag over her tummy, her poker-straight, baby-blonded hair fluttering softly under the air-con. And then the doors slid shut and he was gone.
Cassie checked her watch. It was nudging five. Strictly speaking she ought to go back to Bebe at the studio, but she couldn’t face being party to any more character assassinations today. She felt the sadness which she was trying so hard to keep under wraps pushing up like a malevolent jack-in-the-box, and she wasn’t convinced that even the shock of Bebe’s cruelty or the mania that passed as a typical working day here would be enough to divert her attention.
It was because she was tired, she knew. She and Kelly had gone out every night for the week and a half she’d been here – very often after eleven, when Kelly was done with her work functions and just when Cassie’s body was curling itself into sleep – and tonight she really didn’t want to ‘check in’ and have Kelly organize her evening for her. She didn’t want to eat raw fish or super beans. She wanted to eat a burger and drink a goddamn cup of tea. Her constitution demanded it in the way Kelly’s needed adrenalin or Anouk’s needed satin bras. She wanted to curl up on the sofa and read a book. If her feet weren’t so sore, she’d maybe have taken a detour and gone for a walk in Central Park on the way back. It might have helped clear her head. Ever since the Botox injections, she’d had a dull headache she just couldn’t shift, and vats of cocktails and scarcely any sleep weren’t helping. But the four-inch-heeled boots Kelly had left out for her before she left that morning – she had actually numbered her outfits for her after Cassie’s disastrous freelance effort – left no room for negotiation. They were called ‘limo shoes’ for a reason.
Having darted into Dean & Deluca to buy dinner, she decided to treat herself and caught a cab home. She let herself into the apartment and immediately filled a small saucepan with water and put it on to boil. Pulling a box of teabags slyly out of her shopping bag – not PG, but better than nothing – she found a cup at the back of Kelly’s underwear cupboard, although traces of soil in the bottom of it suggested it had last been used as a flowerpot.
As the water started to bubble, Cassie changed out of her dress and pulled on a pair of NYC grey joggers and a matching navy hoodie that she’d bought at a tourist shop down the block. She craved this time of the day before Kelly got back and gave her the evening itinerary. And tonight, since Kelly was expecting to meet her at Raoul’s at six, she was going to get a bonus hour of peace and quiet and rest.
She already knew that she was going to spend most of it crying. The first call from her divorce lawyer had come through earlier this afternoon and she could feel the tears – swallowed down in front of Bebe – pumping from her heart and moving through her body like a secondary blood supply. It seemed to be the only way to mobilize the pain, to expel it like carbon monoxide or some other toxin
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