June 26th, 1990

June 26th, 1990

At home

Such a difference in the weather between the heat and humidity we left in New York and the drizzly day we arrived to at Gatwick airport.

Rang Pamsy for a general catch up, plus I wanted to find out how her birthday celebrations went.

“It was lovely,” she said. “We had so much food.”

“I could devour some yummy barbeque stuff right now, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” she laughed. “How was New York?”

“It was great. I flew with some really nice girls that I’ll attempt to keep in touch with but you know how that goes.”

“Good intentions and all that.”

Exactly. There’s just never enough time is there? I can’t even remember the last time we got together.”

“I know, it’s mental, we really do need a proper catch up soon.”

“Well, when I move into my new house you can come and stay.”

“How exciting, I’ll love that. Hey, did you see your New York friend? I can never remember his name.”

“Yes, Christopher. Saw him on both legs of the trip, in fact I had lunch with him in Central Park yesterday.”

“Aw, that sounds lovely. How is he?”

“He’s great, he’s always great, that’s just the kind of person he is and uh, it was strange, you know I’ve never fancied him, right?”

“No, he’s just a friend, isn’t he?”

“Hmmm, I can’t explain it but I kind of saw him in a different light.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know him so well and we always have a such a lovely time together and I always think of him in a friend only kind of way but something changed yesterday.”

“How so?”

“At one point, I looked at him and saw how attractive he is, so much so that I felt I wanted to kiss him.”

“The plot thickens.”

“It does actually but not in the way you’d expect.”

“Ooh,” Pamsy cooed. “Go on.”

“He’s in love.”

“With you?”

“No, no, no, not with me, with some girl called Lori he met whilst playing tennis.”

“Ugh, a fittie.”

I laughed. “Not exactly our cup of tea.”

“Not even. So, will you see him again or not?”

“I don’t know. If she’s the possessive type she won’t want him hanging around a girl that shows up every so often.”

“Especially one that wants to kiss him.”

“I think that was just the humidity getting to me.”

Pamsy laughed. “Eh, I don’t think so, I think you just realized you like him, more so since it sounds like you’re too late.”

I sighed. “Why does it always have to be like that?”

“Human nature,” she stated. “We always want what we can’t have.”

 

June 25th, 1990

June 25th, 1990

Night flight from JFK – LGW

Winging our way home after a great trip and an interesting day in NYC.

After breakfast with Jane and Caroline, we rang Amanda.

“Go away,” she groaned.

“How was your evening with Issac?”

“Ridiculously late.”

“Anything else we need to know?”

“I need to sleep,” she said, hanging up.

“She had better spill the beans on the crew bus,” Jane said, making us laugh.

Left the girls and moseyed up to Central Park to meet Christopher. He was actually a little late, which is very unusual for him.

“Hi,” he said kissing my cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s all good.”

“Did you get lost?”

He nodded his head. “Crazy, huh? I’ve lived here my entire life but this is my first time here in this area of the park.”

“Tut, tut, tut,” I teased. “You need to broaden your horizons.”

He laughed. “I had to call my Father, who of course wanted to know why I needed to be here.” “Did you tell him?”

“I did,” he smiled.

“You better stick with me so you don’t get lost again. Here you go,” I said, passing him a sandwich. “I got you a Rueben.”

“Cool, thanks. Man, that’s heavy.”

“Try carrying it all the way through the park in this heat,” I laughed.

“What’d you get? Let me guess, a turkey avocado?”

“How did you know that?”

He tapped his finger to his temple and I tried not to react to the way he carefully unwrapped the wax paper but of course I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut!

“It’s not a birthday present, Christopher! Oh, and I got you a Snapple,” I said, passing the drink to him.

“I’m a little scary, huh?”

“Not at all. You’re just being, what shall we say? Particular. You’re just being particular.”

“Or a pain in the ass,” he said, twisting the top off the bottle. “You want some?”

“No thanks, I have vodka,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

He cracked up laughing. “Is that because I’m a pain in the ass?”

“You are not a pain. You’re really great company,” I said, taking an ample bite of my sandwich.

“Thanks you,” he said, with a smile that for the first time ever, I found utterly attractive. So much so in fact that my stomach did a little churning movement which I’m not attributing to hunger.

“So,” I said, promptly averting my gaze. “Are you seeing anyone?”

His resounding, “Yes,” took me by surprise.

“Oh really, who?”

“Her name is Lori.”

“When did this happen?” I said, hoping my tone didn’t reflect my feeling.

“Not long ago but it’s moving pretty fast.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What does she look like?”

He perched his drink on his knee. “She’s blond. About your height. Brown eyes,” he said, looking at me. “A real sweetheart.”

“What else?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“She’s kinda like you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, it’s funny,” he said, his eyes moving toward the fountain. “I never thought of it before but yeah, she’s like the American version of you. With longer hair.”

“You should run while you can!”

“No way, no way,” he laughed. “She’s awesome and so easy to get along with, I really like hanging out with her.”

“I’m so happy to hear this,” I said, not entirely sure if I meant it or not.  “You never tell me anything like this.”

“There’s been nothing to tell.”

“But now there is! How did you meet Lori?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“What? Was it in some seedy and sordid way?” I teased.

“Do you consider playing tennis seedy and sordid?”

“Of the worst kind,” I laughed.

Ah, Christopher, sounds to me like game, set and match.

 

June 24th, 1990

June 24th, 1990

Flight from MAN – JFK

Lexington Hotel, New York

After clubbing ‘til the wee hours, I fantasized (all the way across the Atlantic!) about a quiet night in but I already told Christopher I’d be returning to the city, so I rang him to firm up the plans.

Caught a cab to Greenwich Village with Jane and Amanda (Caroline wanted to stay in and ring her new French beau.) Christopher and his friend Issac were already seated and no sooner had we sat down, when Issac ordered not one but three bottles of Champagne.

“One for each British beauty,” he said with a wink then began regaling us with tales of his work on Wall Street, most of which involved some type of what I’ll call, “Excess.” I couldn’t help but notice Amanda hanging on his every word and the fact that their bodies grew ever closer with each passing hour.

With Issac dominating the conversation, I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Christopher, so once we were outside he asked if we’d like to continue on somewhere for a nightcap.

“That’s sweet of you, thanks,” Amanda said. “But Issac wants to take me to a jazz club so I’ll see you in the morning girls.”

Jane’s mouth fell open and I loved the smirk that flashed across Christopher’s face.

“You guys have a good night,” he said, as Issac and Amanda piled into the back seat of a yellow cab.

“Wow,” Jane uttered. “Didn’t she tell us just the other day how much she hates men?”

“Apparently not all of them,” I laughed.

“Should we follow them?” Christopher said, cracking up.

“If I wasn’t so tired I’d say yes but…”

“I’d say the same,” Jane said, “if last night hadn’t been so late.”

Christopher gave me a questioning look.

“We went out clubbing, long story, short sleep. By the way, thank you for dinner, Christopher.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jane said. “That place was amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ve been coming here for years. So, are you guys heading back to the hotel?”

I looked at Jane. “Eh, yes, I am.”

“Me too,” she said, attempting to stifle a yawn.

“What time do you guys leave tomorrow?”

“Call time is four,” I said.

“Wanna grab some lunch before you head outta town?”

“I’d love to, where?”

“You pick.”

“Ehm, how about someplace in or around Central Park?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “And Jane, you’re welcome to join us.”

“That’s ok,” she said. “I think you two have some catching up to do.” Fortunately, Christopher was too busy hailing a cab to notice her comical expression. The cab pulled up and Jane and Christopher said their goodbyes.

“So,” he said, kissing my cheek. “When and where are we meeting?”

“By the Sophie Loeb fountain,” I said, sliding into the back seat beside Jane.

Christopher nodded his head and closed the door.

“At noon,” I said, sticking my head out the window, just as the cab pulled out.

 

June 23, 1990

June 23rd, 1990

Chester Grosvenor Hotel, England

I’m really enjoying this trip. Having even just a few people on the crew you want to spend time with makes all the difference.

After last night’s food fest, I didn’t meet up with the girls until this afternoon, which gave me plenty of time to ring Pamsy and wish her happy birthday.

“Saturday is most perfect day of the week to turn twenty-four!”

“Yes it is,” she laughed. “How’s the weather up North?”

“It’s been nice, looks sunny again today.”

“Aw, I wish you were here to enjoy the barbeque later. We have sooo much food.”

“Have a sausage for me,” I laughed.

 

Went to Muswells with the girls and bumped into Martin, a guy I did a night stop Detroit with a while back.

“Lady Caroline,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten about Lady Caroline. How are you Martin?”

“Really well, thanks. This is my partner, Michael.”

“How do you do,” I said, shaking Michael’s hand.

Amanda pulled out a chair and Michael made himself comfortable.

“What are you girls up to?” Martin said.

“We wanted to go and see the film about the prostitute who goes shopping in Beverly Hills but it was sold out.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “You mean Pretty Woman?”

I nodded my head yes. “So instead, we’re here deciding what to do.”

“Come clubbing with us!”

“Call is early tomorrow morning…”

“New York?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Love it. My fav American city. Are they a nice bunch?” he said quietly, gesturing towards the girls and Michael who seemed to fit right in.

“They’re all lovely, yeah, really nice.”

Martin looked at his watch. “It’s still a bit early for clubbing but we can make our way there after a few more drinks. You can be Lady Caroline again.”

“No, no, no, she’s out,” I laughed. “I have a new one.”

“Oh, what’s her name?”

“Madison Frazer.”

 

June 22nd, 1990

June 22nd, 1990

Chester Grosvenor Hotel, England

It’s been a lovely day here in the North of England, both weather and enjoyment wise. And now I’m feeling rather stuffed after a delicious dinner and cocktails-a-plenty at a restaurant called Mamma Mia, located within walking distance of the hotel.

Landed in Manchester just after six this morning which meant plenty of time to sleep before meeting up with the girls tonight. In the interim, I rang mum, who I expected would want to dissect every detail about New York but that wasn’t the case because we ended up talking about Granda. Apparently, he isn’t doing well so dad will be heading to Scotland tomorrow to spend a few days with him. Poor Granda, he’s such a great character, I hope he’ll be alright.

Did a bit of shopping with the girls then we went to see a film called “Revenge,” that I really didn’t like as much as the others, but we were in agreement that Madeleine Stowe in indeed very beautiful. Amanda was drooling over Kevin Costner which is amusing, given the fact she continually mentions her dislike of the male species!

I love this hotel, it’s very elegant and the rooms are beautifully decorated but the best part is the bathroom and the giant bath that I think I might be lowering myself into sooner rather than later. It is, after all, only midnight!

 

June 21st, 1990

June 21st, 1990

Night flight from JFK – MAN

Met the girls (Jane, Amanda and Caroline) for breakfast, over which we talked about love, men, love, men and eh, love!  Jane is pretty cut up after breaking up with her boyfriend of seven years, Amanda is very single and has no desire to ever get married because, in her words; “Men are total dicks.” And then there’s Caroline who just started seeing a French guy she met in Los Angeles on a recently holiday.

The “Men and Love,” conversation continued in Central Park, perched on benches, trying our best to eat rapidly melting ice cream. We were all in agreement that of all the places we travel, New York on the East Coast and Los Angeles on the West, have the best-looking guys.

Speaking of hunky guys, I left a message on David’s answering machine and also tried him at work but his secretary, Crystal (aka valley girl) said he was; “Like, outta town, until, like, I think, like this weekend or like mun day.” I really must have a word with David about her!

Now winging our way to sunny Manchester (!) where we’ll spend two nights in Chester before returning to my second favourite American city.

 

June 20th, 1990

June 20th, 1990

Flight from LGW – JFK

I’ve been up for twenty-six hours and feel I could sleep for a week but wow, it’s great to be back in The Big Apple. Flight was seriously delayed, enough so that we almost went out of hours, which on a trip with a quick flight time is unheard of.

My room is located on one of the executive floors and the view from the bathroom is utterly insane. Ah, how I love this city with the yellow taxis and the tall buildings and the crowds and the noise. Oh, the noise!

With the lengthy delay, I expected a quiet night in but the mere sight of the skyline rejuvenated me. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect on anybody else so there was nobody to go out with. I rang David but couldn’t get a hold of him so I thought I might go for a walk but it was one of those evenings where the air felt balmy and I really fancied watching the world go by, preferably with a cocktail in hand, so I rang Christopher.

He was still at work (I reminded him that it was half eight!) but said he was happy to hear from me and would come straight to the hotel. Twenty minutes later, I met him in the lobby and was, as always, thrilled to see him.

“You look tan.”

“Remnants from Antigua,” I laughed.

“You got paid to go to Antigua?”

“Yup,” I said, stepping into the revolving door.

We found the perfect spot to sit and people watch at a little bar just up the street from the hotel. Christopher ordered his signature drink; “Margarita, rocks, no salt,” and I ordered a pomegranate Martini (which was delish!)

As usual, we fell into an easy conversation about where we’ve been and what we’ve been doing.

“So,” he said, a few sips into our third drink (oops!) “Give me the latest in the BK saga.”

“Ah, let’s see. There’s actually not much to report on the Ben and Karen saga, he moved away, which is probably a good thing.”

“Interesting. And nobody else has showed up and swept you off your feet?”

I made a little disapproving sound and opened my mouth to speak but before I could, Christopher raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I know, I know,” he laughed. “You can stand on your own two feet, I just meant it as a figure of speech.”

“Well in that case,” I laughed. “No, I don’t believe so.”

We started talking about the Antigua trip and for some reason I mentioned William and before I knew it, I was telling Christopher all sorts about my time with William, which is weird, because he really wasn’t my type.

“I seem to prefer blondes,” I said, suddenly changing the subject.

Christopher pulled on a strand of his thick, dark hair. “Guess I’m out,” he chuckled.

 

 

June 19th, 1990

June 19th, 1990

At home

I woke up this morning in a panic, worrying about the house and if I’m doing the right thing. Financially, it will be very different but my concern was more related to living alone. Millie bought her house a few years ago so I rang her for some advice.

“What you’re feeling is perfectly normal.”

“Really?”

“Totally,” she said. “I remember feeling the same way.”

“And then you were fine?”

“I wouldn’t say fine but once I got used to living alone I felt much better.”

“How long did that take?”

“About a year.”

“A year!”

“Maybe a little less and it’s not as if we’re around all the time.”

“That’s true.”

“And when you think about it,” she continued, “We spend a huge amount of time alone in hotel rooms.”

“Yeah but that’s totally different to being in a house alone in the middle of the night.”

“Hmmm and it’s not like you can get a dog.”

“No, sadly that’s out of the question.”

“Well if you don’t like it, you can always get a lodger.”

“Oh no, that’s not the goal. I’d hate that.”

“Yeah you’re too much of an only child for that. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

“You really think so?”

“Uh huh. What you need to do is throw a huge housewarming party as soon as you move in.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Just make sure you have it on my days off.”

“Of course.”

“Will you invite Ben?”

“Eh, I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to smack him.”

I laughed. “I know I’m laughing but that’s quite horrible.”

“Well he’s quite horrible. Have you heard from him?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“He rang earlier.”

“I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“When you get all cagey about telling me stuff.”

“I’m not being cagey, you’ve already made it clear you don’t like him so why would I want to share anything with you about him?”

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Then stop being childish and silly.”

“I am not being childish. Or silly,” I shouted, confirming both.

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. I was just asking.”

“And I’m just telling,” I snarled.

Ah, Ben, he brings out the best in everyone!

 

June 18th, 1990

June 18th, 1990

At home

I like that time in the day when all the stuff you wanted to do is done, leaving you with the remainder of the day to do what you want. That’s the point I was at earlier tonight, when Jon rang.

“McGarr!”

“Hello you, what are you up to?”

“You owe me a drink,” he teased.

“Yes, I do and I’ll be more than happy to buy you a pint or two but when?”
“You around now?”

“Yes, but where are you?”

“Out and about but I can be there in, say, ninety minutes.”

“You mean an hour and a half?”

“Minutes sound better.”

“They do actually So, where are you now?”

“Like I said, out and about. I’m ringing from the car.”

“Oh, you are such a poser!”

He didn’t respond so I continued. “Are you alright? You sound a little, I don’t know, different.”

“I can never get anything past you McGarr. Truth be told I just got stood up.”

“Oh no.”

“Yup, how embarrassing.”

“Aw, that’s horrible. I’m sorry to hear that. Come and get me and I’ll take you for a drink. I might even buy you dinner.”

“Ooooh, get you, minted McGarr.”

“Not quite but we need to celebrate.”

“What, me being stood up?”

I laughed. “No, of course not. I just bought a house!”

“You did not!”

“I did! I made an offer yesterday and it got accepted, I’m so happy.”

“That’s fantastic, well done McGarr. You can tell me all about it in ninety minutes…”

“Or when I see you in an hour and a half!”

 

June 17th, 1990

June 17th, 1990

At home

I made an offer on a really sweet house with a little garden! Mr. Nile said he expects the owners will accept the offer and if they do (fingers crossed) I should be able to move in, in four to six weeks because the house is vacant. I like it a lot and really hope it all works out.

After a yummy Sunday lunch in the garden, mum and dad came with me to peek through the windows. They both agree that the house and location are ideal. Dad wandered off and we found him talking to the neighbours across the street; a young couple with a baby. They invited us in for a cup of tea and mum held the baby while Sally showed me around their house, which is more or less the same as the one I made the offer on. They only just moved in a few months ago but with all the stuff they have, it looks like they’ve lived there for years. Dad and Steve were deep in conversation about stuff like grass and sheds and goodness knows what, until the baby started crying at the top of her lungs, thereby forcing us to make a hasty exit!

“What a racket that wean was making,” dad remarked the minute we were in the car.

“She was probably just hungry,” mum said. “Bonny wee thing isn’t she.”

“She really is lovely,” I said.

“Karen, do you think Steve looks like a young version of Richard Gere?”

“Actually, he does, mum,” I said, not daring to take my eyes off the road with dad’s beady eye focused on me from the back seat.

“He does not!” Dad said, in a way that made me laugh.

“Aye, he does,” mum insisted. “What a handsome young man.”

“He certainly is,” I uttered.

“Uff,” dad huffed. “You two!”