Read Online From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually by Ali McNamara - Free Book Online Page A

almost a hundred movies to choose from on the in-flight entertainment system. You can start them when you want, then stop, pause and even rewind. I’m in heaven. I don’t even get a chance to listen to the playlist I’ve made on my iPod of New York-themed songs; although to be fair, I have been playing it quite a lot before leaving home. I’d been driving Sean mad with songs like Frank Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York’; Alicia Keys and Jay-Z’s ‘Empire State of Mind’ and my favourite ‘Arthur’s Theme’ from the Dudley Moore movie of the same name. It’s such a romantic tune: ‘If you get caught between the moon and New York City … the best that you can do is fall in love’.
    Although Sean did raise a questioning eyebrow at me when I was singing along a bit too enthusiastically to that one …
    Our parting this morning had been quite strange. It was the first time since getting together that we were going to be away from each other for so long. Sean was always the one on business trips, but only for a few days at a time, so it seemed odd for me to be the one leaving today. When I was about to climb into the taxi to head off to theairport, I was pretty sure Sean was regretting ever suggesting the idea in the first place.
    ‘I’ll miss you,’ he’d said, gazing down at me, gently stroking a stray piece of hair away from my eyes.
    ‘I’ll miss you too,’ I’d said, looking up at him. ‘It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. You could pack and catch a flight out tomorrow.’
    But Sean had shaken his head. ‘No, you go. You’ll have a fine time with Oscar, and you know it.’
    ‘I’ll say hi to Jen for you if I see her,’ I’d said half jokingly.
    ‘Don’t bother,’ Sean had screwed up his nose. ‘I don’t wish to be remembered to her.’
    Then Oscar had called out of the taxi window that we’d miss our flight if we didn’t hurry up, so Sean and I had kissed goodbye quickly and then we were off. The last I saw of him was as I waved out of the back of the taxi window to his disappearing figure.
    Oscar spends most of the flight trying to catch the eye of the good-looking air steward, but after getting nowhere he finally gives up and falls asleep under the pages of
Heat
magazine, while I watch my movies in between thinking about New York and Sean. When we finally arrive at JFK Airport (even saying that is exciting), we slowly trudge along the long, winding lines with the other hundreds of travellerstrying to enter the country via the immigration desks. After we’ve had our faces scanned and our fingerprints taken, it’s with relief that our passports are finally stamped and we’re allowed through to go and collect our suitcases from the baggage carousel. Where again there’s more relief when we find them safely riding round and round like weary children on a never-ending merry-go-round. We spy Oscar’s cases quickly; we can’t exactly miss their bright pink leopard print. But luckily my slightly less bold pale blue ones arrive shortly afterwards, and we’re on our way.
    The heat hits me the moment I step outside the airport into the late-afternoon air. Whoa, it wasn’t like this when we’d left London, a bit damp and miserable and about fifteen degrees – here, it must be well into the high twenties.
    We find the taxi rank, join the queue and shuffle forward slowly as we wait to be ushered by an attendant into one of the ever-constant stream of bright yellow taxis arriving at the airport. When it’s our turn, the taxi driver enquires as to our destination, then hoists our bags effortlessly into the boot of his cab while we load ourselves inside.
    ‘First time in New York?’ he asks as we set off on our journey.
    ‘Yes, it is, for me,’ I reply as I turn my head backaround from where it’s been craning out of the window to take in every new sight and sound of the city we’ve just landed in.
    ‘Well the forecast for Memorial Day weekend is fantastic, sunny in the