First Born(25)

‘Come on.’

We share an awkward hug outside the entrance to the YMCA and it’s only broken when a Japanese guy comes outside, wheeling his bike.

‘Can’t you see we’re right here?’ Violet tells him. ‘We’re both invisible to you? You couldn’t have waited one second, dude?’

He apologises even though he really has nothing to apologise for, and Violet says, ‘Fuck. Let’s go into the park.’

We cross the road and enter Central Park south of Dalehead Arch. There are locals with small dogs on leashes, and there are tourists in bad denim. One young woman passes us, talking about how she might scrape the grades for UCLA.

‘Do the cops have any leads?’ she says. ‘I still can’t believe Katie’s gone. Cannot fathom it. They tell you anything yet?’

‘Not really.’

‘In her own fucking apartment. I told her to live on campus but did she listen? I survived in this damn city my whole life and she didn’t listen to me.’

‘You’re from here?’

‘Mom’s from Brooklyn, Dad’s from Queens, though I haven’t seen him since I was a little girl. I study the same program as Katie. Up to my eyeballs in debt and working two jobs in Williamsburg just to pay bills.’

Violet seems flustered. Maybe she’s still in shock.

‘KT said she had a lot of fun with you, said you were a great friend.’

‘She said that? That’s sweet. We’ve only known each other a year but we were real close, you know. We had some wonderful times together. Those parties last year. I guess with you being in London and all she needed someone here in the city.’

‘KT and I weren’t in touch so much this past year.’

‘I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Katie told me you didn’t take the news well. Her studying over here.’

I clench my teeth. ‘We’d always lived in the same place, the two of us.’

‘It’s hard with sisters; I got five of them,’ she says, her expression softening. ‘Trust me, I know.’

‘Totally different with a twin, though.’

Violet looks at me and says, ‘Let’s sit down over there, come on.’

We walk into a baseball field and sit on the green-painted spectator benches. There’s no one playing. It’s empty.

‘How are you coping, with the news, with the adjustment? How are you holding up inside here?’ She taps the side of her head.

‘It’s still a shock. Doesn’t feel real. Maybe I’ll come to terms with it after the funeral. Maybe then it’ll make more sense.’

‘Will that be here in the city or in England?’

‘In our village near Nottingham, in the Midlands. Dad’s going to talk to airlines about it.’

‘That’s too bad,’ says Violet. ‘I would have liked to be there to say my goodbyes.’

‘You can’t fly over?’

‘I can hardly make rent this month, Molly. In fact, truth be told, I can’t make rent this month.’ She starts to frown and then she taps her temple with her finger. ‘But I’ll be there with you guys in spirit. I swear on my life I’ll be there in England in spirit.’

We both stare forward at the rust tone of the trees and she says, ‘Smoke?’ I shake my head and she shrugs and lights up a cigarette. ‘You two were real close until she moved over here, eh?’

‘As close as two people can be.’

She turns to me and shakes her head. ‘You look just like her. It’s weird, but it’s nice, you know what I mean? I don’t mean to be disrespectful, it’s just a comfort in a way to see you. It’s like I still have a piece of my Katie here, you know.’

Your KT?

Three boys approach with a mitt and a bat and a ball. All three are wearing baseball caps.

‘Ballpark’s closed, kids,’ says Violet. ‘Come on, it’s October already.’

The smallest kid says, ‘My uncle said we could play here.’

Violet sniffs and says, ‘Your uncle? The park’s closed. What, you want to argue with me some more about this? Can’t you see we’re talking here, me and my friend? Jesus. Can’t you see we’re talking?’

They wander off, dragging their bat along the ground.

‘Upper West Side brats.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘Oh, I can tell. It’s easy.’

‘What do you think happened to KT, Violet?’

She takes a long drag on her cigarette and then blows smoke out of her nostrils. ‘Only God knows, but she had some people in her life I’d say might have been . . . how should I put this? Toxic, maybe. Problematic.’

‘Who? Scott Sbarra?’

‘Scottie? Nah, Scottie’s a sweetheart. He doesn’t have a vicious bone in his body, that one. Never messed her around too much, always treated her nice as far as I heard, and that’s a rare thing – you find me another guy like that at our school, especially a jock.’

‘Who, then?’

Violet looks at me. ‘She ever mention any of her teachers, her professors?’

‘Professor Groot?’

‘Yeah, exactly. Professor Eugene Groot. Everyone knows you have to keep your eye on him.’