The weeks after Lachlan and I split up were not actually easy but nor were they as bad as our last breakup. I suppose in the end we had made a decision based on good sense and, even if we had said some things that hurt each other, we had parted sadly but as friends. It is so different when there is bad blood and bitterness. In some ways I was proud that both of us had been mature enough to take the correct path and not blame each other. The sad fact of it was, it was just life, not anybody's fault really.

I threw myself back into my job and that helped me deal with the day to day loneliness - but the empty bed at night was always a reminder of the times we'd had. I took to working late on until I was really exhausted and then coming home so tired that I would fall into bed and crash out. But even then I dreamed of two strong arms folded round me keeping me warm all night.

After awhile I began to drop in the pub again. I hung around a bit with Esme, going to the pictures with her and having the occasional binge when we got pissed at her place and ate pizza and ice cream and watched films with Brad Pitt. She was a great support and I found myself confiding a lot of things in her about Lachlan. She likes him and she told me he had spent a few nights on her couch when he had got drunk back in the winter. It was good to talk openly about him and remember the good times.

One day my boss called me into the office and sat me down. I was a bit surprised as it was clear from her face that this was something big. I wondered what I had done or if I was going to be given the chop. It's a cutthroat world in the glossy magazine business and you simply never know what is coming next. I am a lowly member of the features department working mostly in proofing but also at the boring end of copy writing. I occasionally get an unattributed paragraph or two but nothing much. Of course, my aim is to have a column of my own one day but the chances of that happen are about a million to one.

"Miss Cassidy? Paula? We have a proposition for you. Recently you have been working very hard and it has not gone unnoticed. I also hear you have sacrificed your private life for your career. I am sorry to hear about your recent break up with your boyfriend but we applaud the fact that you wish to devote yourself to building up your career before you think of making commitments. That is important in your chosen profession where we need staff who are flexible and able to make lifestyle changes at the drop of a hat..."

I was sitting there thinking, "What the fuck is she on about?" when she dropped her bombshell....

"Let me cut to the chase. We think you have talent and a whimsical style. You are pretty and charming and dress well. You also have shown your loyalty to the magazine. The head office in New York has asked us for a London staff member to take on a small column for a few months to see how it will jive. It would mean relocating for about six months to New York, possibly longer if they like your work. In return you get the almost unprecedented offer of a monthly column entitled: An Englishwoman in New York. Get the picture? Street cred London girl meets the Big Apple - your thoughts on love, life, fashion, zeitgeist with a deliciously  British  cynicism and sense of the absurd...what do you think?"

I almost fainted. One in a million did I say? I had just won the lottery and hadn't even bought a ticket. But just when I thought that my luck had finally changed, along came those niggling little doubts. Was I really able to do this? What if I stunk? Would they keep my lowly job open here? How would I cope alone in a strange city? Was I really ready to fly from the safety of my little world?

"Er---can I have the night to sleep on it?"

My editor raised her eyebrows but shrugged and said that would be fine but she wanted a definite answer by nine the next morning.

That night I went to the pub. All I could think of was asking Lachlan what he thought. I really hoped he would be in that night. It's funny how every time I have something important to discuss, he is the one I go to - even now. As I slipped in the crowded bar and made my way through greeting all my friends, I saw him sitting at the counter, chatting to Andy and sat down by him.

"Hi Lachlan-!"

He turned at my voice and grinned, genuinely pleased to see me.

"-Buy you a drink, hey? If anyone ever gets served in this place-how's tricks?"

He said he was great and asked me how I was.

"Me? I'm fine, really I am. I had a great week at work - might even be getting a promotion!" I announced with a smile.

"Yeah? Promotion? That's great news, what you always wanted. Yeah, I'll have a beer if you're buying..." I caught Andy's eye and ordered.

"-How've you been? You look good, It's good to see you again, Cass, it really is," he said with a grin and then he leaned over with that cheeky way of his. "What do you think of this toga party? Not sure I want to flaunt my legs-"

I giggled at that. "You know you've got great legs. Stop fishing for compliments, Curry!" Andy put down the usual beer and a glass of white wine. Lachlan gave me his full attention, raised the pint and we clinked glasses.

"Okay, cheers! Yeah, this job-It's going to mean a lot of changes, Lach. I'm still thinking about it actually. Not sure I can take it on. What do you reckon? It would mean me moving to New York-" As soon as I said it I saw him flinch slightly but to his credit, he accepted the news and listened carefully. Even if we were over, I suppose the idea of me going over there must have seemed so final to him. The last remaining tie severed. I told him the whole story and he held my hand absentmindedly as I talked."-So, I just don't know what to do! What do you think? Should I go?"

He looked down and smiled to himself before replying then turned his face back and all I could see was that he was truly pleased for me. "I think the drinks should be on me, girl. That's one hell of a chance. You should take it, take the job. You worked hard enough for it, you know you did. And anyway, what's to stop you now? It isn't like you've got a bloke waiting on you, is it? If you and I couldn't make it, I'd like to think there was a good reason for it, Cass. You needed to find your own blue sky. Don't let me down now....no chickening out! Say yes, take the job and make me proud of you! One day I can tell people, when you're editor of some fancy magazine. I used to know that girl!"

He finished with a broad grin and raised his glass to me again. My eyes filled up at his generous advice and the fact that he truly wished me well. He really is a fine man. I leaned over and kissed him softly and for a moment he held me close. I knew that it was the last time we would ever really touch. "Thanks, Lachlan. I really appreciate you saying that. And it helps. I promise I will do my best. Not sure how far I can go, but I plan to try. You're the best, you know!" I didn't want to linger long but then neither did he. Shortly afterwards he excused himself, saying he was going to Jeff and Paul's to watch a match and play cards. I watched him go fondly and silently wished some Fairy Godmother would bring a girl into his life that was good enough for him.

I thought about going home myself and then I noticed Steve with his girlfriend, Monica. I had never actually apologized for that night when I had slapped him. It hadn't been a very nice thing to do. I don't think he had meant to cause me any trouble. The pictures had been meant for me privately. So in the spirit of reconciliation I decided to go over and make peace with him too.

"Hi Steve!" I gave him a cheery grin and pretended I hadn't noticed the gorgeous woman draped around him. "Oh sorry, I didn't know you were with anyone! Hi there! I'm Cassie! Look, Steve, can I just have a quiet word?" Monica gave me a soulful look of warning but excused herself to go to the bathroom. I sat down facing him. "I'm sorry about the other night. I was in bad way. But I've had time to think about it. It wasn't really your fault. So - truce?"

He gave me a cautious look and then laughed. "It's okay, Cassie. I sort of got used to it that night. No hard feelings, huh...?"

I grinned back and we shook on it.

"Is that Monica? She's really pretty. I'm so glad things worked out for you after all." We saw her making her way back and I could see Steve a little uneasy at my presence in front of her. When she sat back down, he made the introductions. "Yeah, this is Monica. Monica-Cass. Say, are you coming to this party? Everyone's got invitations!" He indicated the Roman toga party that coming weekend in honour of Maximus' birthday.

Monica pulled out some pictures and showed them to me. "Hi Cassie. What do you think of these? I think Steve and I should go as Burton and Taylor in Cleopatra..."

Steve gave them a look. "Very photogenic couple. We could be onto a winner there, baby...Anthony and Cleopatra it is. Bring on the grapes!" he joked. I agreed.

"Great look for both of you. Me? Don't know. Thought about Salome but do you think it might be a bit off? I wasn't actually going to do the Dance of Seven Veils but on the other hand, what d'you think?"

Monica shrugged and said it looked 'quite nice'. Steve seemed more enthusiastic.  Monica said she was going for another round of drinks but I could see she was giving me the hint to move. I noticed she didn't offer to buy me one. As soon as she moved away for the second time, I whispered to him. "Actually, Steve, I had a bit of news today. Can I have a word?"

He glanced across, surprised that I was confiding in him. We were not the obvious pair for a confessional. But it occurred to me that who better than Steve to advise me about New York? He lived there himself. So I filled him in. He was really pleased for me.

"But, the problem is, Steve, I don't know anyone in New York. It's a bit daunting to go alone to a big city where you have no friends-"

He interrupted. So call me calculating - I could hardly openly ask him for help when the last time we spoke I had slapped his face. "Hey! You know me...That would be one contact in New York .I think it's great for you, Cassie, I really do. You should take it. You'll love it there. And I'd be there if you need anything. Show you around. Buy you a cup of coffee-" Just then Monica carried their drinks back and he quickly changed the subject. "And wear the Salome.  It would make some great black and white shots-" He leant down and muttered in my ear." Don't let on to Monica, though. She's a bit possessive. She might get the wrong idea, you know?"

I nodded discreetly and promised to call him with some details when I had them. I didn't feel quite so unsure now. In fact I actually realized that in the course of the past hour I had totally made my mind up.

I was taking the job and running with it!

 

*

 

Things moved pretty quickly then. I leased my apartment to a girl in the office who was looking for a short term let while she was waiting for her new place to be finished. Within a few weeks, I had packed up what was being shifted and dispatched it, put a lot of other things in store, attended numerous farewell parties and was ready to roll.

Because of my membership of this rather magical world of the pub, I was being spared the worst of the consequences of moving in one sense - i.e. of losing touch with my best mates. None of us has the least idea how it works, but we do know that we can go to the pub wherever we are and even visit each other at home providing we do so in their company. Sound weird? It is but none of us question it much, merely accepting it as it is. So if I was lonesome and homesick I only had to find where the pub was in New York. And Steve already knew that...

That's why I never made a big deal about my new job. I told them I was promoted but I didn't have a farewell party or anything. Actually, I have never had a party at the pub. I don't think I have ever told anyone when my birthday is and Lachlan just sent me a bouquet of flowers on the quiet at home. He remembered but I'm sure he didn't want to make a song and dance about it to the others in the circumstances of us having split up. But that's by the by. I'm not so big on birthdays anyway - well, not for myself. I have never quite recovered from passing 21.

So when the day came for me to go, I just went. Left my flat, called a cab and went outside to wait for it. Found Lachlan sitting on the bonnet of his car. "Your carriage awaits, princess!" he declared and gave me a dramatic bow. I giggled. "Lachlan! I called a cab!"

"Too bad. I'm offering you a ride for free. Don't look like that! I'm due at the airport. Two birds with one stone, eh?"

I didn't argue. To be quite honest, I was glad of someone to see me off. I was nervous and excited and it was a great relief to sit at a coffee bar and have him there to keep me company. He's a pilot so he can enter the departure lounge and he finally took me to the gate, kissed me, patted me on the bum and told me to go break a few Yankie hearts. I sniffed. He gave me a handkerchief and told me my makeup was running. I gave him one last hug and then ran before I changed my mind.

At the door, I turned round and he was standing there, hands in his pockets just watching me. He looked a little lost. I still cannot see him without my heart flipping over. This move is the best thing for both of us.

 

And so I moved to New York. The magazine had sent a very nice if rather eccentric woman to pick me up. Her name was Xandra and she had very strange hair. She told me about her latest class that she took at nights: Kama Sutra workout. She said they did it naked and instead of yoga postures they assumed sexual positions...my mind was already boggling. I had only been here an hour.

Xandra showed me to my hotel where I was to stay for the first few weeks until I got an apartment. She asked if I wanted to come and work out with her that evening. I declined politely, pleading jetlag. She promised to meet me in the morning and take me for breakfast before showing me the office. I was grateful for her help but rather relieved when she went and left me alone.

It was late afternoon, so I showered and changed out of my jeans into a summer dress and went out to wander around and find something to eat. People were hurrying around everywhere. It was no different from London at the end of a working day, but I still felt overwhelmed. I just realised how I didn't fit in or know where I was going where I was used to being so much part of things. Retreating to a wine bar on the corner of a block, I pulled out my cell and found Steve's number.

"Hey-guess who?"

"Cass? Hey--what ya doin'?" Steve replied.

"Now? I'm just sipping on a chilled Chardonnay in a rather Italian Renaissance type winebar called Bacio.

"There's a Bacio's not far from my place..." he replied.

I laughed. 

"You're here? Why didn't you say! Hey-I'll be there. Fifteen minutes. They do a good D'Aquino Chianti Riserva 1996-order it now. It should be nicely chambréd by the time I get there-"

Steve burst in a while later, in a flurry of thick hair flopping around, leather jacket all crinkly and sexy and a great pair of worn black jeans. He threw himself down, already talking. "Kiss!"

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"Bacio. Means kiss. In Italian. Let me show you!" And he leaned over without any pretence and kissed me sensuously on my lips. Then just as quickly he sat back and started on about the wine. I shook my head. He is just so wound up at times.

"So-where's your girlfriend?" I asked when we were onto our second glass.

"Monica? No idea," he shrugged.

I frowned. "Something up?"

He huffed. "Something's always up. We're on a break-" he announced in a real Ross Geller whine.

"Again?" I couldn't help but laughing. "What this time?"

"Who knows? She told me that I was too dependent on her. That I should learn to look after myself. It was not her job to shop and cook for me, to wash my clothes, to do the ironing-"

"You were expecting her to do all that?" I gasped. As far as I knew they hadn't even been living together.

"I never asked. She just comes in and takes over and then starts telling me I'm the worst in the world. What can I do? She is doing this class on some feminist crap, 'The Domestic Enslavement of Women' and every time she comes home she goes to war on the male race. I get the brunt of that as I am the only person with a penis that she confronts on a regular basis-" He was away and we got an hour of the perils of Monica and how badly treated he was.

"Steve," I interrupted when he stopped for breath. He was on about some theory that men actually did have PMS and monthly hormonal issues but no one was interested in their problems because there was no blood involved. God knows where he gets his theories from. "Steve-I think you are missing Monica. You have not spoken much about anything else since you got here. Why don't you give her a call? Tell her that you promise to shop, cook, do the laundry and ironing for a whole week to show her how sorry you are. After that you can take turns. Or do it together. It could be fun. Although you will probably never get any work done-"

I coaxed him into calling her and then had to sit there while he cajoled and cooed to her and she played hard to get and he tried and got annoyed and shouted and then apologized and then she must have got all weepy because he was putting on this stupid voice like she was a baby or something. I poured myself another glass of wine and downed it to drown it all out.  Finally he rang off with a smug smile.

"I'll walk you back to your hotel. Monica wants me to call round. You know what that means? I am in. Cass - I am so glad you rang me tonight. You've been just great. You ever thought of counseling as a career? You'd make a great shrink-"

Thanks, Steve. I actually called you because I just thought that you might help me feel a little less lonely. In a sense it had worked. I began to think even my own company must be preferable to having to listen to the trials and tribulations of Steve's love life. And that he was now off to get laid. But he redeemed himself on the way back, taking me right to the door and then asking me if I would like his help finding an apartment. He knew of a few places that might suit me and promised to email the details the next day. Anything I fancied he would come along when I visited; he didn't want me alone with some agent who might be a creep.

Steve's a pretty sorted bloke really.

Even if he does go on.

So that was how I got to go to New York.  Later that evening I sat down with my trusty laptop and typed up a short piece so that at least I had something to arrive at work with the next day. It went something like this:

 

 

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