‘Do you go to New York very often?’ I asked Peg.
‘No,’ he said. ‘But it’s a holiday weekend. Everyone goes somewhere for the August holidays. I think you’ll like New York.’
‘I’ve always wanted to go,’ I said, although that wasn’t strictly true. Nothing against New York, but when I’d fantasised about travel, I’d usually pictured tropical islands with white sand beaches and perfect blue skies.
By the time we’d polished off the second bottle of champagne, the dashboard computer announced we had reached our destination. The car windows cleared and the engine switched off. We were in a vast outdoor car park. Overhead, the sun dazzled.
It wasn’t until we were outside, away from the perfectly controlled climate of the car’s interior, that I felt the full, muggy force of the sun, however. I’d never been anywhere truly hot before. What passed for hot in Cornwall was a slightly breezy day pushing 20°C. This was in a different league altogether. It was the sort of sticky heat that makes you feel as though your skin is covered with a coating of honey. I realised now why the others weren’t dressed in anything smarter than T-shirts and shorts.
‘I rented us a boat,’ said Antoine. ‘It’s on pier nine. Comes with cold drinks, fishing gear and UV protection.’
‘I do not want to hang out on a boat surrounded by dead fish,’ said Belle. ‘This is supposed to be fun for all of us. It’s not a boys’ day out.’
‘I thought we were going to New York,’ I said.
‘We are,’ said Peg. ‘Come on.’
The captain of the boat saluted Antoine and winked. ‘Bonjour, Monsieur.’
‘Why are we taking a boat?’ I asked.
Antoine held out a hand to steady me as I walked the short gangway. ‘How else would we get to New York?’ he said.
‘By car? By train?’
‘South Shore Seaport is as close as you can get,’ said Antoine. ‘The only way from here is by boat.’
‘I don’t understand. Has something happened to New York? Why can’t we drive into the city?’
‘It’s underwater,’ said Belle. ‘Not all of it, but almost ten metres of it is. And sinking.’
‘New York is sinking? Like Venice?’
Belle nodded. ‘A lot like Venice. Most of the city has been abandoned, though certain districts are still inhabited.’
I didn’t truly understand until the boat left the pier and sailed east, away from the town. There, out on the horizon, was a city of skyscrapers rising out of blue sea.
‘Eden, what would you like to see?’ asked Antoine.
I shrugged. I knew very little about New York in 2012; I knew even less about it now. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘We could visit the Statue of Liberty.’
‘Is it underwater?’
He laughed. ‘No. It’s well above current sea level. We could do the whole tourist thing – stop off at Liberty Island, sail under the Brooklyn Bridge and then head back to Seaport. Or we could go scuba-diving. The whole of downtown is a marine park. Or we can sail the canals of midtown. There are some cool restaurants there.’
‘Anything but the Statue of Liberty,’ said Lyra. ‘I went there on a school trip once and we had to line up for hours.’
In the end, we agreed to do a mixture of sightseeing and scuba-diving. We sailed slowly down the Hudson River and past the Statue of Liberty, but without stopping to do the tour. It was much too hot to sit on the small deck, so we stayed inside the cabin with its tinted windows and air-conditioning, drinking icy bottles of mineral water and snacking on sushi. Lyra periodically took out her port-com to film the view or our conversation.
Around midday, we headed for the marine park, so that Antoine and Peg could dive. They offered to take me along and teach me, but I got the impression they were just being polite.
‘You sure you don’t want to come too?’ said Peg.
Both boys were already in their wetsuits; their masks, breathing apparatus and flippers were on the deck, ready to be used.
I shook my head. ‘Not today.’
‘Where do you want to start?’ asked Antoine.
‘The sphere?’ said Peg.
‘Sure. Then up to Wall Street.’
They pulled on their flippers and masks, strapped on their tanks and tumbled backwards off the boat into the sea.
The skipper sailed us a short distance away into the shade of a nearby building.
‘I’ll fix us some drinks,’ said Belle, heading into the cabin.
That left just Lyra and me on the deck. I made sure I was in the shade and began slathering Factor 50 all over my exposed skin.
‘What’s the deal with you and Peg?’ Lyra asked me suddenly.
I glanced over at her. She was sitting on a deckchair under the shade of a parasol, black sunglasses shielding her eyes from me.
‘What do you mean?’ I said.
‘Just don’t go thinking that Peg can be your backup boyfriend if things don’t work out for Ry.’
‘I don’t need a back-up boyfriend,’ I said.
‘Good. Because he deserves better than that.’
This seemed a bit off coming from the girl who’d told Peg earlier he was worth having around in case she felt like slumming it. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘You stayed over at his place on Friday night.’ She seemed to be staring at me, but I couldn’t tell for sure because of her glasses.
‘It was easier than going home and facing the reporters.’
‘He lives in a shitty neighbourhood. You’d have been safer at the hotel.’
‘I preferred to stay with Peg,’ I said.
‘These are the best,’ said Belle, coming on to the deck. She passed me an amber-coloured drink in a tall glass with fruit floating in it and a piece of cucumber straddling the rim. ‘It’s just a light drink. You don’t want too much alcohol in this weather or you’ll dehydrate.’
‘Thanks,’ I said.
I sipped at my drink. It was too sweet. I put it down on the deck, disappointed.
‘So?’ said Belle. ‘Do you have a date for the trial yet?’
‘Tuesday,’ I said. ‘I saw Ryan yesterday. And his lawyer.’
‘How is he?’
‘He’s OK. His lawyer seems to think he’s almost certain to get a not-guilty verdict.’
‘You must be so excited, Eden,’ said Belle. ‘In forty-eight hours, this could all be over.’
‘I’m terrified, actually,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to screw up in court.’
‘There’s nothing to screw up,’ said Lyra. ‘That’s for the lawyers to worry about. All you get to do is answer their questions truthfully.’
‘I just want to do everything I can to help him.’
Lyra sucked on the straw in her drink. ‘The bookies are offering odds of three to one against Ry being acquitted.’
‘Lyra,’ said Belle.
‘What? She needs to know the truth. Chances are Ry will be found guilty and locked up.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ I said.
I was finishing my third drink when the boys arrived back. The captain lifted the anchor and began sailing into the city. Just as my stomach began a series of loud rumbles, we sailed into the canal system of midtown. The skyscrapers that towered either side of the canals cast deep shade on to the boat, so we sat out on the deck.
We moored up outside a building with a crown of terraced arches that glinted silver in the sunshine above us.
‘This is the Chrysler Building,’ said Belle. ‘There’s a great restaurant just above canal level. Everything is fresh and locally produced. And the view over the canals is amazing.’
The restaurant was called the Better Health Bar and it was buzzing. Before going to the table Antoine had reserved, we each stood in a full body scanner that measured our height, weight and vital statistics, before pricking our thumbs for a drop of blood.