December 13th, 1989
Night flight from JFK – LHR
I’m a whiz with Christopher’s coffee maker after having watched him use it so many times, so while he was getting ready for work I used it, for which he was grateful.
He said I was welcome to “hang out,” as long as I wanted, but I thought it would be a bit strange staying there without him, so I left with him.
It was snowing a little when we stepped outside his building (a different doorman this time, not nearly as nice as Michael.)
“Do you mind if I walk for a bit with you?”
“You Brits are so polite,” he said, offering me his arm.
Christopher laughed when I raised my head up to the sky so I could feel the snowflakes landing on my face. We had a chat about snowflakes and how no two are the same, then of the blue, he squeezed my arm and said, “You should move here.”
‘You love the city, you should move here.”
“I do, it’s my favourite place in the world.”
“Why don’t you think about it? I’d help you get set up.”
“In what way?”
“I’m a native New Yorker,” he said in an exaggerated New York accent, “I got people.”
We both cracked up laughing.
I hadn’t planned on walking all the way to the office with him but we were having such a lovely chat.
“You wanna cab?”
“No thanks, I want to walk back in the snow.”
We hugged in the middle of the mass of people swarming into the huge building.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he smiled.
Back in my room, the message light was flashing. I thought perhaps there was another delay to the flight home, but no, the message was from David, from last night. He said he was sorry he missed me, but would ring me at home this weekend. Telling him I’d spent two nights in a guy’s apartment probably wouldn’t sound very good, even though it was completely innocent!
The snow got heavier as the day wore on and I bundled up and walked up to Central Park. It was bitter cold, but I really enjoyed the brisk walk. This is the most amazing place.
I could see myself living here.