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Extract 5

Maybe Luke’s right. Maybe I won’t cope with the pace of New York. Maybe it’s a stupid idea, me moving here with him.

A group of sightseers has already assembled – mostly much older than me – and they’re all listening to a young, enthusiastic man who’s saying something about the Statue of Liberty.

‘Hi there!’ he says, breaking off as I approach. ‘Are you here for the tour?’

‘Yes please,’ I say.

‘And your name?’

‘Rebecca Bloomwood,’ I say, flushing a little as all the others turn to look at me. ‘I paid at the desk, earlier.’

‘Well, hi Rebecca!’ says the man, ticking something off on his list. ‘I’m Christoph. Welcome to our group. Got your walking shoes on?’ He looks down at my boots (bright purple, kitten heel, last year’s Bertie sale) and his cheery smile falters. ‘You realize this is a three-hour tour? All on foot?’

‘Absolutely,’ I say in surprise. ‘That’s why I put these boots on.’

‘Right,’ says Christoph after a pause. ‘Well – OK.’ He looks around. ‘I think that’s it, so let’s start our tour!’

He leads the way out of the hotel, onto the street, and as everyone else follows him briskly along the pave­ment, I find myself walking slowly, staring upwards. It’s an amazingly clear, fresh day with almost blinding sunlight bouncing off the pavements and buildings. I look around, completely filled with awe. God, this city is an incredible place. I mean, obviously I knew that New York would be full of tall skyscrapers. But it’s only when you’re actually standing in the street, staring up at them, that you realize how... well, how huge they are. I gaze up at the tops of the buildings against the sky, until my neck is aching and I’m starting to feel dizzy. Then slowly my eyes wander down, floor by floor to shop-window level. And I find myself staring at two words. ‘Prada’ and ‘Shoes’.

Ooh.

Prada shoes. Right in front of me.

I’ll just have a really quick look.

As the others march on, I hurry up to the window and stare at a pair of deep brown pumps. God those are divine. I wonder how much they are? You know, maybe Prada is really cheap over here. Maybe I should just pop in and–

‘Rebecca?’

With a start I come to and look round – to see the tour group twenty yards down the street, all staring at me.

‘Sorry,’ I say, and reluctantly pull myself away from the window. ‘I’m coming.’

‘There’ll be time for shopping later,’ says Christoph cheerfully.

‘I know,’ I say, and give a relaxed laugh. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Don’t worry about it!’

Of course, he’s quite right. There’ll be plenty of time to go shopping. Plenty of time.

Right. I’m really going to concentrate on the tour.

‘So Rebecca,’ says Christoph brightly, as I rejoin the group. ‘I was just telling the others that we’re heading down East 57th Street to Fifth Avenue, the most famous avenue of New York City.’

‘Great!’ I say. ‘That sounds really good!’

‘Fifth Avenue serves as a dividing line between the “East Side” and the “West Side”,’ continues Christoph. ‘Anyone interested in history will like to know that...’

I’m nodding intelligently as he speaks, and trying to look interested. But as we walk down the street, my head keeps swivelling from left to right, like some­one watching a tennis game. Christian Dior, Hermes, Chanel... This street is incredible. If only we could just slow down a bit, and have a proper look – but Christoph is marching on ahead like a hike leader, and everybody else in the group is following him happily, not even glancing at the amazing sights around them. Don’t they have eyes in their heads?

‘... where we’re going to take in two well-known landmarks: the Rockefeller Center, which many of you will associate with ice skating...’

We swing round a corner – and my heart gives a swoop of excitement. Tiffany’s. It’s Tiffany’s, right in front of me! I must just have a quick peek. I mean, this is what New York is all about, isn’t it? Little blue boxes, and while ribbon, and those gorgeous silver beans... I sidle up to the window and stare longingly at the beautiful display. Wow. That necklace is absolutely stunning. Oh God, and look at that watch. I wonder how much something like that would–

‘Hey, everybody, wait up!’ rings out Christoph’s voice. I look up – and they’re all bloody miles ahead again. How come they walk so fast, anyway? ‘Are you OK there, Rebecca?’ he calls, with a slightly forced cheeriness. ‘You’re going to have to try to keep up. We have a lot of ground to cover!’

‘Sorry,’ I say, and scuttle towards the group. ‘Just having a quick little look at Tiffany’s.’ I grin at the woman next to me, expecting her to smile back. But she looks at me blankly and pulls her hood more tightly over her head.

‘As I was saying,’ he says as we stride off again, ‘the grid system of Manhattan means that…’

And for a while I really try to concentrate. But it’s no good. I can’t listen. I mean, come on. This is Fifth Avenue! Everywhere I look, there are fabulous shops. There's Gucci – and that’s the hugest Gap I’ve ever seen in my life... and oh God, look at that window display over there! And we’re just walking straight past Armani Exchange and no-one’s even pausing...

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