I hope those who are reading are enjoying this - if you think anything needs tweaking (characterisation etc) then let me know. For my part, I'm having a whale of a time writing it so hopefully that comes across.

Collins reappeared the next day with several pieces of furniture which he'd 'acquired'. At first, I was dubious about them, even as he moved them into the apartment and I could see how their shabbiness complimented the overall look. I'd never ask but I was certain he couldn't have provided receipts if I'd wanted them. It wasn't that I thought Collins was a criminal but... well, 'acquired' was such a strange way of phrasing it and he flatly refused to accept any payment from me.

I'd slept for most of the day after Collins had dropped the furniture off and so I was still deliberating over whether to keep it all when Maureen arrived with a smartly dressed woman.

'Oh this place looks amazing!' Her enthusiasm for the place was infectious, and she went around the whole apartment at a rate of knots, inspecting everything. The exact reasons for her reluctance to have me rent the apartment were still vague, especially given that she didn't even live in the building. For some reason, though, her opinion counted and so I was pleased that she seemed much more on board with the idea today. Excited exclamations accompanied her trip around the apartment. When she returned to where I was standing in awkward silence with her companion, she said, 'Seriously, Cat, it looks sodifferent, doesn't it Pookie?'

I assumed the last part was directed at the other woman who now cleared her throat. 'Uh, Maureen?'

It was like somebody had flicked a switch, as Maureen instantly turned her attentions back to us. 'Oh right! Cat, this is Joanne. Joanne, Cat.' If I was in any doubt over the relationship between the two of them, Maureen clarified it for me by wrapping her arms around Joanne in a very public display of affection. I had a feeling that this might have had something to do with Maureen and Mark's break up.

Mark himself arrived shortly afterwards, complaining that Maureen's shrieking had made working on his latest film impossible.

'But doesn't it look incredible?'

Mark leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the room. 'Collins did pretty good. He doesn't often get everything sorted this quickly, you should be honoured.'

'Oh, I am, I'm very grateful...'

'But?' Joanne prompted me.

Blood rushed to my face instantly. It sounded so picky of me and I was ashamed of myself. Yet still... 'Well... I don't like the idea of charity, that's all. You know, I'd like to pay my own way...'

'Oh Collins doesn't pay for the stuff!' Maureen laughed. 'I don't think Collins has ever really paid for much in his life!'

With my worst fears confirmed, I looked around at all the stuff he'd 'acquired' for me in the last twenty-four hours. It would all have to go, even the very funky art deco inspired lamp. Worse than that, though, was the feeling that somebody I'd liked very much on the few occasions I'd met him had turned out to be something I was so opposed to. I'd been let down so often over the last few years that I was surprised it still hurt so much.

'Hey,' Mark said suddenly, catching my arm. 'It's not stolen.'

'Really?' I tried not to sound too doubtful.

'Sure. It's not stealing if people don't want it.' Maureen was adamant on that point.

'I didn't hear that,' Joanne remarked drily.

'What Maureen meant was that Collins finds this stuff on the street,' Mark explained. 'You'd be surprised the stuff people throw out. Does that make it better?'

It did, a bit, although it took me a few days to get my head around the concept of furniture from the street; it was definitely quite different from getting it from Harvey Nichols.

'So anyway,' Maureen put in now. 'We were thinking it was time we all got together. It's been ages since we saw everybody together. And Cat too, of course.' She grabbed my hand excitedly and clutched it like a little girl. 'We're going to have such a good time!' Turning to Mark, she added, 'Is Roger in?' With those few words, the whole atmosphere changed.

'Yeah, but I don't know if he's...'

'Oh screw that!' Maureen erupted. 'He's not been out in weeks.'

'Well, not out with us,' Mark added darkly. 'He goes out quite a lot.'

'Then he can come out with us tonight,' Maureen concluded, with a defiant nod of her head. 'I'll go up and see him.' Like a whirlwind, she disappeared up the stairs.

Joanne and Mark exchanged glances before both sighing in exhaustion. Turning to me, Joanne said, 'Pleased to meet you, Cat,' and gave me a firm handshake. 'I'm sorry about Maureen.'

I grinned and glanced at Mark. 'It's okay, she's... refreshing.'

'Well that's one way of putting it,' Mark agreed. 'You will learn to love her, most people do.'

'But if you don't want to go out tonight, don't let her bully you,' Joanne added.

'Oh no, I'd love to!' Having dozed for most of the day, I knew that sleep would be hard to come by tonight. Besides, I expected Maureen was entirely accurate when she said we'd have a good time; there was little other choice when she was around. 'I'm looking forward to a night out in Alphabet City.'

'Not too late though. You've got a job interview tomorrow.'

'Sorry?'

'One of the cafes on Avenue B wants a waitress. It's not exactly great money and it probably won't involve much art, but... well, he seems quite keen to get the vacancy filled and how hard can taking orders be anyway?' Mark grinned but then frowned as I continued staring at him. 'What?'

'Nothing, I just...' It took a few seconds for me to articulate my thoughts. Even when I thought I'd managed it, the words still came out in a way I hadn't fully intended. 'Why are you being so nice to me?'

Both Mark and Joanne burst into laughter. Mark put an arm around me. 'Because we were all new in this city once,' he replied. 'And we were scared too.'

My automatic reaction was to protest and insist that I wasn't scared. Then I took into account everything Mark and his friends had done for me over the last two days, things I'd never have imagined somebody doing for anybody else, least of all for me. And so I leaned into his hug.

Despite Mark's warnings, the evening turned into quite a late one. Maureen didn't disappoint and by eleven-thirty, we had quite a crowd of lively and interesting people around us. Always though there was the core group: Maureen, Joanne, Mark and Collins, holding it all together.

At that time, I didn't consider Roger to be a part of the gang. Maureen had returned from her sojourn upstairs having only obtained a maybe from Mark's roommate. Considering how persuasive she could be, I was surprised that he'd been able to turn her down. Perhaps even more surprising was how she considered that to be some kind of victory. It seemed Roger had been neglecting his friends for quite some time.

We ate dinner at The Life Cafe on Avenue B, somewhere that my new friends seemed to be extremely comfortable. 'Dinner' consisted of some food and a lot of wine and beer. By the time we left the cafe and moved to a nearby bar, I was already far more giggly than I'd intended to be and I found myself linking arms with Maureen as we stumbled back past Mark and Roger's – and my – building. A quick glance up showed that the top floor apartment's lights were on: Roger was home.

'What a nerve!' Maureen exclaimed. 'He's turned down an evening with us for what? Sitting in alone with his guitar?' In one swift move, she'd picked up a stone from the pavement and was hurling it at the top floor window.

'Whoa!' Mark stepped in as the stone, luckily, fell far short. 'Maureen, take it easy! Are you trying to break the place?'

Maureen ignored him. 'Roger!' she hollered now. 'Roger! Come out! I know you can hear me! Roger!'

'Maureen,' Joanne said now. 'That's enough.'

It was strange the power Joanne had over Maureen. So often it seemed as though nothing would tame her or stop her behaving exactly as she pleased. But when Joanne tried, when she used that particular voice, it was like Maureen finally thought about what she was doing and came meekly back to heel. That wasn't to say she ever apologised for her behaviour. Now, she took my arm again and shot the lit-up apartment a disgruntled look.

'Fucking rude,' she concluded, a sentiment I could only agree with.

We were about to move on, when there was finally a reply from the top floor balcony.

'Maureen?' Against the lights of the apartment, we could make out a figure leaning on the rail.

'You have to ask?' Collins remarked. 'Roger, get your bony white ass down here, pronto.'

There was a long pause. I glanced at Mark, who was gazing up at his roommate with a strange expression on his face. It was as though he was willing Roger to do as he was asked, desperate to spend the evening with him. It was an expression I'd only seen a few times before in my life and I began to wonder if there was more to the relationship between the two men than I'd guessed.

'I don't know.'

'Oh for god's sake!' Maureen exploded. 'Roger, we're not going to beg!'

'She's pretty good at that though,' Joanne added.

Another long pause. Then, 'I guess I could come out for a drink or two...' A sense of excitement and relief rippled through the group. 'I'll just grab a few things...' The figure disappeared into the apartment and after a few minutes, the lights flickered off.

'Obviously not his wallet,' Maureen remarked. 'I take it he's still not found himself a job?'

'It doesn't matter,' Mark insisted. 'I'll pay for him. I'm just glad he's coming out. And you can talk about jobs.'

Maureen pouted but didn't reply. It had become clear over the course of the evening that Joanne's not-too-shabby lawyer's salary supported the couple, whilst Maureen preferred to use her talents elsewhere. She was currently enthusing about an off-Broadway show she was hoping to get the lead in. It sounded fairly strange but she'd already made me promise to come to opening night at the end of August. Despite Joanne's warning earlier that day, I agreed readily.

'Well, you're honoured,' Collins said to me as we waited outside for Roger.

'Me?' I squeaked.

'Roger hasn't been out for months. He must be making a special effort just for you.'

'I don't think so!' I replied, remembering the way he'd looked at me yesterday, which only served to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end again.

'No, me either,' Maureen put in. Both Collins and I looked at in a little surprise, and I couldn't deny that my brow creased into a slight frown. 'What? Blondes have never been Roger's thing.'

Collins laughed, that infectious rumbling thunder which I'd grow to love over that summer, and ruffled my hair. 'There is that,' he agreed.

'It's not natural.' My words fell mainly on deaf ears, for which I was grateful, wine-fuelled as they were. Collins, however, shot me look which he seemed to be about to follow up with some words.

I was saved.

'Have I missed something?' The subject of our conversation asked as he crossed over the street to join us.

'Nothing.' Collins pulled him into a bear hug. 'Good to see you, man.'

'Yeah, you too.' The words sounded genuine enough, but I noticed the awkward way Roger returned the hug, as though he was entirely unprepared for such physical contact. It was funny, but I recognised that feeling, the sense that being too close to somebody could ruin you. My family weren't known for their affectionate outpourings and I'd spent the past few years trying to convince myself that they weren't necessary anyway. For Roger's part, he managed to avoid any further embraces by nodding his head in greeting at everyone else, including me. Then a pasted on smile appeared on his face. 'So where are we going?'

The bar was further down the street and only took a few minutes' walk. Maureen maintained her vice-like grip on my arm, whilst Joanne and Mark walked in front of us, and Roger and Collins behind. Being part of a group was something I'd appeared to be very good at throughout school, university and beyond. I'd moved between various circles of acquaintances for years, always seemingly at the heart of the action. This was different though. For the first time, I realised that I actually wanted to be here and with these people. For the first time, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

The bar was lively and Maureen immediately dragged me onto the dance floor. It was most unlike me, or at least, unlike the person I'd been in England all these years, but in truth, I didn't need much encouraging, and I was soon swallowed up by the crowd. For a time, I was unaware of anything beyond the music and the press of people around me. I'd come to New York to escape, and there seemed to be no better escape than getting lost in a crowded bar.

Soon, though, the wine began to wear off, and with it my confidence began to dip. I finally made the decision to leave the dance floor when one hand too many stole around my waist. I looked around, hoping to find someone I knew. The previous feeling of belonging to something special had all but vanished now as the old familiar sensation stole over me: I was alone again. Slipping through the increasingly dense crowd, I hoped to find a quiet corner where I could ride out the end of this wave of paranoia before locating one of the others.

'Sorry!' The apology slipped out as I bumped into someone and their beer spilled over the top of their glass. Then my gaze shifted up and I met those eyes again. 'Oh. Hello Roger.'

He regarded me for several seconds before he replied. 'Hey. Cat, isn't it?'

'Yes.' For want of something to say, I added, 'I'm renting the apartment below yours.'

'Mark said.'

I searched for a suitable topic of conversation. The golden rule of successful socialising was never to drink enough to make thinking difficult. It was a rule I'd diligently followed throughout my life, nursing the same glass of wine all evening and remaining coherent until the very end of the party. Often, I'd be the only person to behave in such a way, which didn't make for an especially enjoyable evening. The alternative was worse though, as I knew both my parents and Sam would find some subtle way of reminding me of their expectations.

And on this occasion, I could almost see their point. Even as I opened my mouth, I could sense that this particular topic of conversation wasn't going to lead in a good direction. It was too late now though.

'He was really pleased you came out this evening, you know.'

Roger almost choked on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken. 'What?'

'Mark. He was glad you decided to join us. We all were. I mean, it's nice to finally meet you properly after yesterday and everything.' I suddenly became aware that he was staring at me with a bemused expression on his face. 'Have I said something wrong?'

'No. No, it's not that.'

'I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I mean, I was only trying to be polite and you were rather rude, but I can forgive that,' I continued, my brain not quite working as fast as my mouth. An idea occurred to me suddenly and I stood my hand out. 'Hello. I'm Cat.' Roger didn't respond. 'You're supposed to shake it,' I added, as my thoughts caught up with my actions and I realised what an idiot I was making of myself. 'And... introduce yourself.'

There was another seemingly endless pause before Roger's hand closed around mine. With more than a flicker of amusement around his outsized mouth, he said, 'I'm Roger.' His eyes stayed locked on my face but there was a change now. The hostility seemed to have gone replaced with something else, a curiosity. It gave me the courage to get something else off my chest.

'Look, Maureen said something yesterday...'

'You don't always want to believe Maureen.'

'That's what I keep being told.' I smiled. 'But... she seemed to think you might have some sort of problem with me moving in downstairs.'

He blinked. 'Did she? What did she say?'

'Nothing really, just...' I shrugged. 'She seemed quite convinced. And you haven't been exactly welcoming,' I added in what I'd intended to be an undertone, an aside to an invisible audience. The loud music and the alcohol had clearly distorted my senses though, and so I saw the moment my words reached Roger's ears.

In one gulp, he finished his drink and put the glass down on a nearby table with a clatter. 'Yeah, well... that's Maureen for you.' Without another word, he stalked away. My drink-dozed brain ran back over the conversation, cringing at the moments that had been particularly ugly. If this was the person I was going to turn into in New York, I wasn't certain it was worth leaving the old-me behind.

'Hey.' Mark joined me. 'Was that Roger?' he asked, looking at the path his roommate had carved through the dance floor. 'Where's he going? What happened?' The volley of questions betrayed his seemingly calm exterior. He was worried about his friend and I felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over me. Whatever had sent Roger walking away this evening was down to me and me alone.