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‘We’re round the corner from Times Square, that’s why. People are gathering or have been since earlier today.’

‘Are we going there?’

‘Not quite.’ I stop for a moment to let her see where we are though and, once she sees the ice rink, her eyes light up. ‘IT’S ROCKEFELLER!’ she squeals, and gets her phone out again to take photos. Her eyes scan the building and the NBC studios and she does a little dance on the spot that tells me how excited she is. ‘Come in for a selfie, you donkey,’ she orders. I huddle in and look at the picture. Can a person look too happy, verging on the edge of mania? That would be Phoebe. ‘Is this it? Are we going up? Not sure I can ice-skate in a fancy dress though,’ she tells me.

‘This isn’t quite it. You good to keep walking?’ I ask her, my hands going in my pockets, watching her skip along the sidewalk.

She side-eyes me. ‘OK… This better be good though.’

We keep walking, to Broadway. ‘OMG, we’re going to dance on the pianos!’ she squeals as she sees FAO Schwartz.

‘Phoebe, it’s closed,’ I tell her as she peers through the windows like a little orphan.

She pouts. ‘But we’re coming back to these places, right?’

I nod, then take her hand and lead her past Radio City Music Hall and wind through streets and traverse crossings so I can keep the route interesting. ‘We can, maybe tomorrow.’

She inhales deeply. ‘This was a good idea. The best of ideas. It’s like a magical mystery tour. That party was kinda dead, right? Like where was the fun, the dancing? It’s New Year’s. It’s time to dance and exorcise the year’s demons.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Do you dance?’

‘I might.’

She laughs.

‘How was that funny?’

She scans my face, her mood switching for a moment. ‘I need to tell you something…’ she says, hesitating slightly. ‘I met Naveen at that party,’ she continues seriously.

‘Finance bro?’ I say, wondering how that meeting went.

‘He had Lego hair. You know when it’s so shiny it almost just stays there like a helmet,’ she says. ‘He was not a nice person. I may have spilled a drink on him.’

‘Nice.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘I also need to tell you something,’ I tell her at the crosswalk of 51st and Seventh. I see her studying the billboards and absorbing the city in party mode.

I feel the emotion swell in my chest as I think back to just half an hour ago when she sat in that bar at the Waldorf and said what she said. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a winning endorsement before, such words of complete sincerity pointed in my direction. ‘I wanted to say thank you for what you said in the bar before. That was… very kind of you.’

She smiles as we cross the street. ‘It’s all true. I’m no liar.’

‘Except when you’re a paediatrician working in the Congo,’ I say.

She laughs. ‘I was so convincing though, right? I swear my talents are wasted,’ she says, nudging me a little with her arm.

‘Keep walking. We’re nearly there,’ I tell her when we get to the other side. ‘In the interests of transparency, I should also tell you that I saw Avery tonight. When I went to the bathroom,’ I go on, my breath fogging the air.

She gives me a swift look and I’m not sure if it’s anger or concern. ‘Fuck. Is that why you took so long? Why you needed the drink afterwards?’ She comes in to hug me tightly, seeming apologetic that she wasn’t there to get in the way.

‘Yeah. She tried to kiss me,’ I confess, still in the embrace.

‘And?’ she says, pushing me back, an emotion I can’t quite read.

‘I kissed her back for like two seconds.’