Christmas at the Cupcake Café

Issy and Darny came through passport control first. Darny looked excited and nervous; he burst into a huge grin when he saw his brother, then instantly tried to look cool and nonchalant, although his eyes were darting everywhere: at the security marshals with their guns and dogs; accents so familiar from the television but so strange at the same time; different signs and instructions coming over the tannoy.

Issy looked tired, and sweet, and had for some mad reason put red clown spots of make-up on her cheeks, but he decided to ignore that for now. And she was wearing … what was she wearing?

‘What are you wearing?’

Issy looked up at him. Had he changed? She couldn’t tell. He looked the same – his thick browny-red hair flopping over his eyes as usual; his horn-rimmed glasses; his tall, slim figure with the surprisingly broad shoulders.

But he also looked – kind of at home here. Like he fitted in. He had a briefcase and a long overcoat and a rather nice red scarf and a suit, and suddenly Issy saw him as one of the men on her flight; casually bored of being in business class instead of finding it a big adventure; working every free moment they had. She had never thought of Austin as one of those people. But maybe he was.

‘Hey,’ she said. Then she let herself be enfolded in his strong arms; drinking in his scent and the familiar warmth of him.

‘Hello,’ he said. He kissed her firmly on the mouth. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘I liked the plane tickets,’ she said.

Suddenly Austin stopped looking like a smooth, rich businessman and looked like himself again.

‘I know, coool, huh? Did you play the games? Did you visit the bar? Did you get a massage?’

‘No,’ said Issy crossly. ‘I fell asleep and missed all of it.’

‘No way! Did you not even try the barbecue? What about the swimming pool?’

Issy giggled. ‘OK, now you can shut up.’

Austin caught Darny in his other arm. ‘Don’t think you’re getting away without a hug, you.’

Darny grimaced. ‘Yuck, that’s disgusting. Brothers aren’t meant to hug anyway.’

‘You’d do well in communist Russia,’ said Austin. ‘C’mere.’

Darny continued to grimace, but did not, Issy noticed, pull away.

‘Shall we get going?’ she said, eventually.

‘No,’ said Austin. ‘Not until you tell me what you’re wearing.’

‘Ahaha,’ said Issy. ‘It’s for the cold.’

‘But it comes up past your bum. Is that real fur?’

‘No.’

‘Have you joined … a band?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Are you retitling it the Cupcake Café and Pole Dancing Club?’

‘I’m warning you …’

‘Am I being insensitive? Are you actually being eaten by a polar bear? Do I need to call an ambulance?’

‘I’ll just take a taxi by myself.’

‘No, no, we’ll accompany you. Pingu.’

The taxi queue was surprisingly short, which was a relief, as the cold hit them with the force of a wall when they left the heated building.

‘Only a taxi?’ said Issy. ‘I was expecting a limo.’

‘They did offer me a town car,’ confessed Austin. ‘But I didn’t know what that was, so I said no.’

He didn’t mention that they had offered to send a car to get Issy and Darny without him, so he could start picking up on things that were going on around the office, attending some meetings and getting up to speed. He didn’t mention that at all.

Darny promptly fell asleep in the car, but Issy was glad. At first she was a little odd with Austin – she didn’t know why, she just felt slightly sad, which was ridiculous, as it was hardly his fault that he hadn’t been around; it wasn’t like he’d taken off on the holiday of a lifetime. But she couldn’t resist his childish enthusiasm as they came over the crest of a hill in Queens and Austin nudged her going, ‘Now! Now! Look! Look!’ and grabbed her and pulled her on to his lap as she saw for the first time in real life the lights of Manhattan.

It was so strange and so familiar all at once that it took her breath away.

‘Oh,’ was all she could say. As if choreographed, the cab driver let out a string of expletives, and a light snow started to fall, wreathing the huge buildings in a cloud of smoky whiteness; softening the lights so that the entire island of Manhattan appeared to glow. ‘Oh,’ she said again.

‘I know,’ said Austin, their heads together out the right-hand window.

‘What’s that old song?’ said Issy. ‘The buildings of New York …’

‘… look just like mountains in the snow,’ finished Austin. ‘Oh, except I don’t know that song. I don’t listen to girl singers. Mostly I like heavy metal and rap and boy songs.’

‘You don’t know any rap.’

‘All Saints are rap,’ said Austin.

‘Yes, all right,’ said Issy, squeezing his hand with hers. It was breathtaking. Whatever was going to happen, this was still them together, coming into New York.

‘Put up that goddam window,’ barked a voice from the front of the cab. They complied immediately.

‘Well, it’s not exactly the Plaza …’ said Austin, leading them into the lovely little old-fashioned boutique hotel on the west side of Central Park. It had stable doors beneath, and gabled windows, like an English country cottage thrown into the middle of the iron and steel of the city. A log fire burned in the corner of the lobby and the receptionist welcomed them like old friends, calling in a waitress, who brought them three foaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows in whilst she processed their check-in. It wasn’t grand like big hotels she had seen before, Issy thought, looking at the cashmere throws over the sofas, but it was the most gorgeous, homey luxurious thing she could imagine.

Austin led them up a small creaking staircase into their bedroom, then he added, ‘But look what it has … ta-dah!’ And he threw open the connecting door to reveal an extra bedroom for Darny, complete with flat-screen TV and its own bathroom and games console.

‘Wow,’ said Darny, whom they’d had to haul bodily out of the cab, suddenly wide awake. ‘WOW!’

‘I reckon these old beams are nice and soundproof,’ said Austin, winking at Issy.