In the end all he did was put his notes for his book in some kind of order and telephone Natalie. He got her answering machine, an indication he hoped, that she’d taken his advice and gone to ground. He left a message anyway, saying he’d get in touch as soon as he got back.
By the time the flight arrived he was beginning to struggle with the tiredness, convincing himself that it might even be more than tiredness. He was burning up as he made his slow progress from plane to taxi, feeling light-headed, reaching out to steady himself every time he had to stand still.
The taxi driver was foreign, East European perhaps, and when Alex gave him the address he looked at him as if he wasn’t making sense. He drove off anyway and Alex relaxed a little, swimming in and out of hallucinations, seeing the cabin of the plane through the taxi windows, the attendants walking around serving dinner.
He lurched back into consciousness a few times but had little idea where he was, little awareness of their progress into the city, and when the taxi driver spoke to him he was startled and confused.
They were stopped in traffic, the taxi driver looking around at him, saying, ‘Which way?’
Alex looked out of the window, unsure at first where they were.
‘We’re in Manhattan,’ he said.
The driver looked at him like he was crazy and said, ‘Yeah, Manhattan. Which way?’ His accent was heavy but already developing New York edges.
Alex reached into his pocket and gave him the piece of paper with Kate’s address on it.
The taxi driver shrugged and said again, ‘Which way?’ A horn beeped behind them and he drove, muttering to himself.
‘I don’t know,’ said Alex. ‘Near Columbia University?’ He was guessing. He wouldn’t have been able to direct the guy to Kate’s old apartment but he’d never even been to this one, and as the confusion ebbed away he was amused that he’d picked a comedian’s idea of a New York cab driver.
He felt livelier now, like he’d stepped through the tiredness, looking out at the bustling streets, making suggestions, none of which the driver seemed to understand or find helpful. The driver was talking to himself now anyway, working his way through the puzzle in his own language, looking up at every street sign.
When they finally got there Alex gave him a hefty tip, feeling guilty for some reason because he hadn’t known the way. The driver seemed dismissive though, as if it was the least he’d expected, acknowledging the fact that Alex had been a difficult customer.
It tickled him, a good story to tell Kate, break the ice. He climbed the steps and rang the bell, using the doorway as best he could to shelter from the fierce wind. She answered, excited, buzzing him up. Once inside the lobby he composed himself for a second, taking in how cold he’d got in the couple of minutes he’d been outside.
He took the lift up then, and walked along, counting off the door numbers. He reached hers but almost before he’d taken in the correct number the door flew open and she was standing facing him, a broad smile.
She was beautiful, more than he remembered, and even with the loose sweater there was an inviting warmth in the look of her body. Natalie had seemed attractive at Rob’s funeral but he hadn’t been attracted to her. Kate left him speechless though, an amnesiac suddenly remembering what his life had been.
He smiled, but her own face began to drop. Her eyes had been bright when she’d opened the door but looked sorrowful now, filling with tears. She started to cry and he dropped his bags and put his arms out to her.
‘It can’t be that bad to see me,’ he said as she cried into his shoulder.
She laughed a little and pulled back, her face messed up with tears. Looking at him again brought on a fresh wave and her words were distorted as she said, ‘You look terrible.’
‘Thanks, it was a long fight.’ She pointed questioningly at the bruise on his temple. ‘Long and violent.’ She laughed again and he took out a handkerchief and started to dry her tears with it. ‘I’m really tired, that’s all. The bruise is from a fall the other week. Jesus, I didn’t think I looked that bad.’
She held him again, the softness of her body inviting as a bed, like a remedy for the sleep that had failed him more and more frequently over these last couple of years.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she said.
‘Me too.’ She eased away, closing the door.
She made a determined effort now to pull herself together and, gesturing to the room, she said, ‘What do you think?’
He looked around and said, ‘Nice. It reminds me of the other place.’
‘The other place was a dump.’ She was becoming more relaxed, getting comfortable with the change in the way he looked. Alex was still rattled by the way she’d reacted but made an effort not to let it show.
‘I don’t remember it. Except the furniture, and that’s the same.’
She smiled as if he were teasing, though he really couldn’t remember the old place looking any different, and then she seemed to spill over with things to say, offering him a seat, asking him if he wanted a drink, if he was hungry, whether he wanted to sleep now or hold off for a while.