‘May we speak to her?’
‘Let me call up to her. See if she’s free. Just a moment.’
As soon as he went through the door into the restaurant, I pulled my hand from hers.
She frowned at me. ‘Okay, okay, I don’t have cooties.’
‘You said no flirting. Was the hand-holding really necessary?’
‘I was just trying to make us more relatable – less like we come from a government department. It wasn’t flirting – it wasfake-flirting.’
‘Of course it was – it goes without saying with you,’ I snapped back. She opened her mouth to respond but the restaurant owner hurried out of the door again.
‘She said, yes. Of course. She’s upstairs, fiddling with her website. Come.’ He led us through the restaurant, all the way out the back where there was an alleyway for dumpsters and deliveries. We followed him up a fire escape, our footsteps clanging on the metal. I kept my eyes on Noelle’s bottom swaying gently as she walked before me, until I could see their front door. There were worse ways to distract myself from heights.
All the windows were open inside their large apartment, net curtains stirring with the soft breeze. An older woman with dark hair, one streak of steel running through it, sat at a small kitchen table, concentrating on a MacBook. She had a pot of coffee next to her and when her husband introduced us, she motioned to the wooden chairs opposite and poured us each a mug. Her husband went to sit down but she shooed him away.
‘You’re busy, Luca – go back to the restaurant. You know you don’t remember anything further back than last week.’ He obediently agreed and we thanked him before he went. ‘Now Trevor Moorcroft you say?’ She took the photo from me and smiled. ‘Oh yes. Idoremember him. He didn’t stay with us too long, a year or so. Broke a couple of the waitresses’ hearts and then he moved on.’
I didn’t know if I should feel any better that his love ’em and leave ’em attitude was not unique to Mum. I took the photo back silently.
‘Any idea where?’ Noelle was still a bright, inquisitive influence.
‘Yes. He went to work with my husband’s cousin, over at Coney Island.’
‘That sounds a strange career move.’
Jack of all trades and master of none. At least I was different from him in that respect.
‘A little,’ Isabella agreed. ‘He was good with his hands, mechanical you know? He always fixed the van for us and our cars if they broke down. He went to help maintain the rides. I think it was better money, but also, I got the impression he liked to move around. I don’t think we’d have an address for him. Not here anyway – records that old would be archived at our storage unit by now, but I can go find a number for Luca’s cousin, if you have time to wait?’
‘As long as it’s no trouble for you,’ I said automatically.
‘No. Of course not.’ She disappeared off into another room.
‘What did I tell you?’ Noelle said in a light sing-songy voice, her grey eyes sparkling at me as she lifted her coffee to take a sip. ‘New Yorkers love a story.’
‘I’d reserve your smugness for when we find him.’
‘I don’t need to reserve my smugness. I have an inexhaustible supply. Plenty more for later.’ She pressed her tongue between her teeth, and it drew a grudging smile from me. Despite my snapping at her downstairs about the hand-holding she was still helping me out. I was letting this search get to me and taking it out on her. I didn’t really want to do that – I wanted to keep her and the prospect of finding my father at arm’s length, so I could remain my usual collected self.
‘Is that why you love it here?’ I asked. ‘The stories around every corner?’
‘One of many reasons.’ She put her mug down and considered it, twirling that loose strand of hair around her finger as she thought about it. ‘I love the variety. The life. Everything is at your fingertips y’know? You want a taste of something, you can find it. It’s perfect for someone like me.’
‘Other cities are like that too.’
‘Of course! But this is my city. I know it well. And my family is here. That’s the most important thing isn’t it? If they weren’t here, maybe I wouldn’t be so attached to it.’
I nodded despite the weight settling on my chest. ‘I can understand that. I always thought London would be my home. I love it – probably the same way you love New York. But since losing Mum, and Nick moving to the sticks to be near Beth, and Nan moving in with her friend in Surrey, there’s only me left there. If it wasn’t for work, I’m not sure I’d care enough to stay anymore.’
She frowned and put her hand out to touch my arm. ‘I’m sorry. That was a really insensitive thing for me to say.’
‘I asked a question and you answered it.’ I shrugged. I’d only just escaped that gentle hand-holding of hers, which had made me so uncomfortable but I couldn’t bring myself to move away, and our eyes caught. There was something there – a moment of calm at the centre of our usual argumentative storm. My heart rate kicked up and my mouth went dry.
‘Here it is.’ Isabella bustled back into the room with an old diary. Noelle and I sprung apart and she paused in the doorway and smiled at us. She scribbled the details down on some notebook paper and pushed it over. ‘Now, can I get you some cannoli to go with that coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’
