Christmas for One: No Greater Love Read Online Free PDF

read all about how dangerous New York could be, she gulped at the thought that even the taxi-rank man had to carry a deterrent.
    ‘It’s Greenwich Village.’ She hoped she had pronounced it right and that it wasn’t ‘Green-Witch’, as she had once heard an American refer to ‘Dull-Witch’ in south London. Her titter in the train station all those years ago now felt horribly misplaced.
    ‘Sure thing. Just hop into the next cab that pulls up. Have a great day.’ He smiled. Meg felt a pulse of excitement; he sounded exactly like every character in every movie she had ever seen. I’m in New York! I am actually in New York! Despite the eight-hour flight, her fatigue evaporated.
    Meg felt her limbs jump and her skin prickle as the bitter wind and driving snow slashed at every patch of exposed skin. She dipped her chin into her coat, trying to muster some warmth.
    A taxi pulled into the pick-up lane and the driver popped the boot. ‘Too cold!’ He rubbed his hands together.
    She nodded, slightly disappointed by his Eastern European accent. She had been hoping for someone who sounded like Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver .
    Climbing into the back of the yellow cab was a moment she wouldn’t forget. Despite the plastic screen separating her from the driver, the slightly funky smell of dirty carpet and the fact that she could only make out every other word of the driver’s heavily accented commentary over the clatter of the engine, it was a huge thrill to be travelling for the first time in such an iconic vehicle. As the car cruised the expressway from JFK, Meg craned her neck to follow the spires of the skyscrapers in the distance and made a plan to photograph the signs that read ‘Brooklyn Bridge’ and ‘Walk. Don’t Walk’. She couldn’t wait to show them to Lucas. She also planned to eat a hot dog from a street cart and to visit the coffee shop that featured in Friends .
    A feeling of loneliness washed over her as she contemplated exploring the city alone. This was one of the places Bill had spoken about very fondly, promising to bring her here. Like so many of his promises, it lay unfulfilled. Oh, Bill.
    Meg realised that she thought of him less and less now. The all-consuming grief in the immediate aftermath of his death had eventually given way to flares of distress before fading to a constant hum of yearning. It now felt closer to anger, something she would never dream of confessing to his mother, Isabel. She was angry that he had left her without the future that they had planned and angry that he’d left Lucas without a dad; she was angry that she had been forced to spend time with Piers who she hadn’t really loved, but primarily she was mad that he had cheated on her, lied to her, been about to marry another woman.
    Meg shook her head. ‘I can really pick ’em.’ She spoke to the view of the New York skyline with the Statue of Liberty looking diminutive in the distance, far smaller than she had envisaged and further away from the city than she had imagined.
    The taxi trundled along the potholed roads into Manhattan, the driver muttering as his chassis jarred against the uneven tarmac. Meg felt a swell of childlike excitement as she stared at the shop windows full of elaborate Christmas displays, the curls of twinkling lights and the be-ribboned doors. It was December the eighth and retailers were on the big festive countdown. The pavements were heaving with New Yorkers and tourists, all muffled up in coats and scarves and weighed down with large fancy carrier bags. Those who were in a hurry stepped into the road, keeping close to the kerb and tutting as wheels bounced into rain- and sleet-filled holes, sending showers over their shiny shoes and greatcoats. Horns honked in chorus as cars jerked forward, unconcerned if they blocked others in the process. Bike couriers in balaclavas and layers of lycra weaved in and out of the stationary traffic at alarming speeds, bumping over gratings that hissed steam