Samantha
Samantha breathed in the crisp air as a cold wind whipped through her clothes. The smell of fried onions and hotdogs filled her senses, and for the first time in days her stomach rumbled with hunger.
Traffic hummed around them, horns blasted long and loud in the distance, whilst the beat of music drifted out from shop fronts.
New York had been the first place she’d suggested when they’d knelt on the threadbare carpet in the living room of their East London flat and opened up an A3 map of the world. The higgledy-piggledy buildings – different heights, different colours – all set in perfect square blocks across the city, had appealed to her more than the temples and the beaches.
There was something familiar about it: the hot-dog vendors on the street corners; the subway grates on the sidewalks; the dark-haired policemen in crisp blue uniforms; the sea of yellow cabs. It was just as she’d imagined from the hours spent watching reruns of Friends and Sex in the City.
‘Oh crap, it’s cold. So cold,’ Jaddi said, pulling her jumper up to her mouth. ‘Shall we get a taxi?’
‘Our first time walking the streets of New York and you want to get a taxi?’ Samantha rolled her eyes. ‘What happened to your authentic experiences?’
‘What could be more authentic than a yellow cab? Besides, my body has forgotten what cold feels like. We’ve done humid, hot, hot and humid, scorching, warm, and more hot. But not cold. Now I remember why we put New York last on the itinerary. Another month and it’ll be spring time here.’
‘Well, we’re not getting a taxi. This is Times Square. The studio is just across the street.’
All around them, people in winter coats, carrying paper shopping bags, dashed in and out of shops. Tourists with cameras snapped photos of giant electronic billboards rising up the sides of the buildings. Humps of charcoal-coloured snow dotted the edges of the sidewalk. Somewhere above the rooftops the sky was black, but among the shops and the people, and the colourful adverts, it was as bright as day.
Samantha threw a glance at Ben, walking a pace in front of them with his camera balanced on his shoulder, just as he’d done before their trip had been hijacked by Caroline and her film crew, and they’d been dragged to Las Vegas. Before David. Before she’d realised how wrong she’d been about her life.
They drew to a stop by a pedestrian crossing. A small, square screen on the opposite sidewalk displayed a red hand, warning them to wait. A row of people on each side obeyed the command. A smile touched Samantha’s lips. In London, pelican crossings were often ignored by pedestrians. In Vietnam, even the cars and motorbikes paid no attention to traffic signals, but in New York, the city that never sleeps, where everyone is in a rush, they waited.
‘Has anyone actually watched this show?’ Jaddi asked.
Lizzie and Samantha shook their heads.
‘I’ve seen it a few times,’ Ben said, moving his eye out of the camera lens. ‘He’s funny. You’ll have a good time.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind if I sit this one out?’ Samantha scrunched up her face as she looked between Jaddi and Lizzie. She hated the idea of letting them down, but she couldn’t face another live TV interview, especially after everything that had happened.
‘Of course we don’t mind.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘You can enjoy it from behind the scenes with Ben.’
‘Do I have time to stop and get a scarf and a hat, and some gloves?’ Jaddi said.
Lizzie laughed. ‘No, we’ll go shopping tomorrow. That was another reason we wanted to leave New York until last, remember? We’d planned to shop until we drop before—’
A green man flashed on the screen and they found themselves carried forward by the walking crowd. Almost immediately, the light turned red again and a timer ticked down from twenty. They made it to the sidewalk as the timer ran down to three.
Samantha cast a sideways glance to Lizzie and grabbed her arm. ‘Liz, before you go in there, can we talk for a second? I need to show you something.’
Lizzie grinned. ‘Sure. If it’s about Mondulkiri, you know I support you. I just don’t want you to rush into a decision about quitting your job. You’ve worked too hard—’
Samantha shook her head. ‘It’s not about me. It’s about you.’ A blast of warmth carried from the heaters of shop. ‘Hang on, let’s stand here a second.’
Lizzie nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. Jaddi stepped beside Lizzie, the pair waiting for Samantha to speak. She blanked out Ben’s movements from the corner of her eye. This was too important.
Samantha drew in a breath. Hope danced in her stomach. ‘I’ve found a clinical trial you have to read about. It’s a new radiotherapy treatment for inoperable brain tumours. They haven’t published any results so far –’ Samantha pulled out her phone from her pocket as she spoke, desperate to get the words out before Lizzie could interrupt ‘– but the researchers are really positive about it. Look here.’ She thrust her phone in front of Lizzie and pulled up the webpage from her browser.
Lizzie shook her head, closing her eyes as if she could block out the information. ‘Don’t, Sam, please. I know all this stuff. It’s not for my tumour.’
‘Oh.’ The hope hardened to stone inside as she watched her friend. ‘But if you just looked at it.’
Lizzie stepped away, her head still shaking from side to side.
Jaddi wrapped an arm around Samantha and gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Let’s talk about this later, OK? We don’t want to be late for the interview.’
‘Sure,’ Samantha said. ‘I’m sorry, I just hoped—’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Jaddi said. ‘Come on before my fingers drop off from frostbite.’
Samantha trailed a step behind as they continued along the sidewalk. This wasn’t over, she thought to herself. The trial she’d found was new. Brand new. Lizzie could be wrong. It could help her. Samantha just had to make her see that.