An English Boy in New York (23 page)

‘But he'll be arrested. We're supposed to be flying home in thirty-six hours. What if they take his passport?'

‘That's his problem,' Ms Gunter said. ‘I know he's your friend, but he's let you down here. You are not being disloyal, you are being smart.'

‘But he needs help,' I pointed out.

‘Ben,' she said, her face looming large on the BlackBerry screen. ‘It's not just your future at stake. You know what a risk I took in arranging for you to leave the country.'

‘I know, I know,' I said.

‘And if you are arrested, they might take your passport too. As you are already on probation they might decide to detain you and put you on trial in the States.'

That didn't bear thinking about.

‘OK,' I said. ‘I understand.'

‘Thanks, Ben,' Ms Gunter said. ‘I know you'll do the right thing.'

I had no stomach to stay longer at the KnitFair after that. I didn't have any more appointments. Mr D'Angelo had said I could hang around, trying to sell to random people walking by, but my heart wasn't in it. Also, there were the finishing touches to make to the cerise Hoopie for Fat Tony. I could afford to be late with that. I wandered down to the subway and checked the board. The A train would take me back to 38
^th
Street. The B train would take me to 59
^th
and Lexington. To Bloomingdale's.

A familiar tinkle of laughter got my attention and I turned my head to see Brandi standing on the platform, face to face with G. As I watched, open-mouthed, he leaned forward and kissed her. I made to step forward, to pull the cad away, before I realised that Brandi was kissing him back. A train pulled up and they hopped on, giggling.

I really do not understand women. They're full of contradictions, the whole world over.

I shook my head and went to stand on the platform for the A train, remembering all the good times with Gex. It didn't take long. There was the time he'd stood up for me against Lloyd Manning. The time he took the rap for me when I accidentally broke the window of the sponsored toilets. Then there was New Year's Eve just gone, when Gex and I and Freddie and Joz had danced and drank and laughed and laughed.

Up against that were all the times he'd let me down. When he'd insulted me, or borrowed money and not paid it back. When he'd not turned up after we'd arranged to meet. Or even worse, turned up unexpected. The time he'd lit up a cigarette in my room, the time he'd hidden a case of lager in our garage without telling me, getting me in trouble. And of course the infamous Martini Rosso incident.

An A train arrived. I stood and watched the doors open.

I stood and watched the doors close.

Behind me I heard the rattle of the B train. The screech of brakes as it stopped. The hiss of the doors as they opened.

Heaving a large sigh, I turned.

I took the B train.

* * *

Like the bellend I am, I'd forgotten to ask Keith to let me have Gex's number. I'd deleted it from my phone. And now Keith wasn't answering, he was probably on the subway to Jersey, running like a little girl. I'm like the cleaner in
Pulp Fiction
. Called in to sort everything out when the regular gangsters have screwed up.

So when I arrived at Bloomingdale's I wasn't really sure where to go. According to the store map there were ladies' fitting rooms on three floors. I could hardly stand outside each one yelling, ‘Gex!' I'd definitely attract attention. I thought furiously. I had to use my knowledge of Gex's character to work out which one he was in. The ground-floor changing rooms were near the accessories. The top-floor fitting rooms were near the maternity wear. The fitting rooms on the first floor however were right slap bang in the middle of the lingerie section. Of course.

I made my way there and approached nervously. The coast seemed clear, so I tried a whispered, ‘Gex!'

No answer.

I tried again.

‘Gex!'

‘Ben?'

‘Yeah, it's me.'

‘You came?' he sounded really surprised.

‘Stay there,' I hissed. ‘I have a plan.'

A large lady pushed past me at that point; she was carrying some underwear that didn't look like it was going to fit. Her husband stood to one side holding a hundred shopping bags. He smiled and gave me a ‘what are they like?' look. I smiled back weakly.

‘I'm going to go and choose something for you  …  honey,' I called out.

‘Eh?' Gex called back.

‘Ahem!' I said, hoping he'd get the message. ‘I'm going to go and choose you some ladies' clothes. Because you said you wanted to look more
feminine
.'

A pause.

‘
Oh, yes, that's right
,' Gex replied in a falsetto.

The waiting man rolled his eyes at me conspiratorially.

I hurried over to the knitwear section knowing exactly what I needed. There. The cowled dress I'd seen on Monday. Now what size? Gex was thin, but tall and quite broad across the shoulder. It would have to be XXX large. Thank God for the larger American lady, I thought, grabbing the biggest one they had, taking a second to appreciate the sublime quality of the lambswool.

I brought it back to the fitting rooms. The waiting man nodded appreciatively. He knew fashion. I threw it over the top of Gex's cubicle and waited a couple of seconds.

‘
I ain't wearing this
,' he sang.

‘Just try it, darling,' I said.

Muffled grunts, thumps and curses emerged from within the cubicle. Then silence. Presumably as Gex admired himself.

‘You can come out now,' I said. ‘Let me have a look.'

‘
I don't want to
,' Gex replied, falsetto. The waiting man nodded understandingly at me. I shrugged.

‘I'm sure you'll look beautiful, darling,' I said.

Gex slowly pulled back the curtain. With the cowl-hood up his face was only partly visible, even so I sensed the waiting man leap back in alarm.

‘How do I look?'
Gex asked.

I paused. His chicken legs were hideously visible where the dress ended at mid-calf length. Part of me really wanted to take a picture there and then. This was gold dust.

But the honourable friend in me, plus the fact that time was running out, won out for the moment.

‘Divine,' I replied. ‘Come on.' I grabbed him by the arm and led him towards the cash desk. The waiting man gave me a pitying look as I passed.

Unfortunately, with Gex having pulled the cowl so far forward, he couldn't now see where he was going and kept bumping into things.

‘Ouch,' he said as he bruised his shins on a rack of suspenders. ‘I mean,
ouch
.'

I was worried this would attract even more attention, so I asked him to pull his cowl back just a little. Unfortunately, as I did, a security guard appeared from nowhere and walked straight towards us. Before I knew what was happening, Gex had grabbed me in a great bear hug, his cheek pressed against mine. I froze in horror.

‘What are you doing?' I hissed.

‘Gotta make it look convincing,' he said.

‘That's convincing enough,' I warned as I felt him shift his cheek slightly, practically taking a layer of skin off with his stubble. Surely he wouldn't try and kiss me?

Mercifully that wasn't necessary though. The guard moved along, his eyes darting back and forth as he searched for a blond teenager in a black tracksuit. We made it to the cash desk, shuddering over what we'd just had to do.

To her credit, the shop assistant didn't bat an eyelid when she saw Gex. This is New York, after all. Six-foot, teenage trannies must be ten-a-penny here.

‘Do you want that in a bag?' she asked as Gex held out his wrist so she could scan the bar code.

‘No, she'll wear it home,' I said.

‘OK,' the girl said, smiling.

‘But could I have a bag anyway?' I asked.

‘Sure,' she said, handing me a brand-new Bloomingdale's bag. My old one was getting a bit battered. At least I'd leave with something for the £95 I'd just stumped up for something I could have knitted in my sleep. I was now overdrawn. I'd never been overdrawn before. The thought made my skin crawl.

We made our way hurriedly to the nearest exit, walking straight past two guards, who didn't look twice at me or Gex. As soon as we were out on the street Gex started to take off the dress.

‘No, honey,' I said. ‘Keep it on till we get back to the hotel.'

‘You're kidding!' Gex said.

‘And talk like a lady,' I reminded him.

‘
We is clear now
,' Gex said.

‘You can't be too careful,' I told him. Well, after what he'd put me through, I wasn't going to let him have an easy ride. ‘We'd better walk, the cops might be staking out the subway.'

Of course they weren't, but in Gex's paranoid condition he accepted anything I said. So I made him walk five blocks in a lady's hooded cowl. Just as we reached the hotel I held back. Gex turned to see what I was up to and, timing it just right, I held up the BlackBerry and took a happy snap.

‘You  … 
bellend
,' he said.

‘Thanks for getting me out,' Gex said when we were safely back in the room.

‘What were you thinking?' I asked him. I was full of adrenalin and building up a big head of steam, ready to let rip. I was not going to let him get away with it this time.

‘I wanted to get these for you,' he replied. He reached into his tracksuit bottoms, pulled out a long cardboard box and handed it to me.

I opened the box, though I knew what was inside. The Spry needles I'd been slobbering over that time he'd come with me to the store. He'd noticed. He'd remembered. I stroked one with my forefinger. It was soft and silky smooth. I lifted it out and spun it carefully. The balance was perfect. I could knit like a dream with these. I felt that with these needles, maybe I could beat that damn machine.

‘They're the right ones, yeah?' he said.

I nodded. ‘Yeah. These are the right ones.'

He waited, clearly expecting me to say thank you.

And maybe he was right to. He'd done this for me. He'd taken a big risk for me. Because he was sorry about the row we'd had and he didn't know how to say it in words.

I felt a bit emotional.

‘Thanks,' I said. I looked up at him. ‘But no more stealing, OK?'

‘Never again,' Gex said, with feeling.

The fun wasn't over just yet though. We were startled by a phone call. It was Jasmine on reception telling me Keith was downstairs. I asked her to send him up, intending to have a few words. Gex got changed and a couple of minutes later there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was Keith, I just went ahead and opened it. A big man swept into the room, I had to walk backwards double-quick to keep from being steamrollered. Behind him came another man. One I recognised, the man with the bulge from Fat Tony's restaurant. I swallowed nervously as the two men quickly checked the room.

They ignored me and Gex. Then Keith walked in, looking scared. Finally, into the room, closing the door behind him, walked Fat Tony himself. Suddenly I was in that scene in
Pulp Fiction
where Samuel Jackson and John Travolta bust into a hotel room and taunt the boys before shooting them.

‘Hi, Ben,' Tony said brightly.

‘H-hello, Tony,' I said. Keith sat down on the sofa, looking green.

‘Would you like a drink?' I asked.

‘Sure, you got any Scotch?' he asked, moving towards the minibar.

‘No,' I cried, leaping in front of the little fridge. ‘Just soft drinks.'

‘Oh, nothing for me, then,' he said.

Phew.

‘I have your sweater,' I said, pulling it carefully out of the Bloomingdale's bag. ‘I was just going to neaten up some of the edges  … '

He took it and held it up admiringly. ‘Don't worry about that, Ben,' he said. ‘It's beautiful. Perfect. Thank you.'

‘No problem.'

‘Great colour. My girl will love it.'

‘I hope so,' I said, squinting.

‘Problem is, my wife might see my mistress wearing it. And then she'll want one too.' With that, he laughed. Mr Bulge and the other guy laughed along with him and after a brief hesitation I joined in.

‘I'd be happy to knit another,' I said quickly. I was buying time. Perhaps he'd agree not to kill me as long as I kept working for him. Like the princess in
Rumpelstiltskin
, except knitting thread into Hoopies rather than spinning straw into gold.

‘Sure,' Fat Tony said. ‘I know where to find you.'

I swallowed.

‘His mom gave me a call,' Tony said.

‘Whose mom?' I asked, confused.

‘His,' Tony said, nodding towards Keith. ‘My sister.'

It took me a moment to work out what he was saying.

‘Keith is your nephew?'

‘Yeah, didn't he tell you?'

‘No, he didn't,' I said, looking over at Keith. ‘I thought he was a member of  …  I thought he was in  … '

Tony waited. ‘You thought he was in  …  ?'

‘I thought he was an associate of yours,' I said. ‘In your  …  business.'

Tony watched me for a moment, then he let rip with a huge belly laugh. Bulge man and the other guy laughed right along. Suddenly the tension was broken and I started laughing too. Gex joined in, half-heartedly. Only Keith remained poker-faced.

‘Don't get me wrong,' Tony said eventually, wiping his eyes. ‘I love the guy. He's my sister's kid. But I wouldn't employ him in my  …  business.'

‘I see,' I said. I'd been right to suspect. Keith was no gangster. Gex looked shell-shocked. His world had come crashing down.

‘I might employ you, though,' he said, fixing me with an intense look.

‘Me?'

‘I got a good instinct about people,' he said. ‘The night I met you. I knew you were a guy I could trust.'