Sorry for the delay, needed to get these three right and I needed a bit of help. Thanks to tigpop for catching up and all your reviews and wise words. And super thanks and NYU pens to you lovely reviewers.


Chapter Twenty One

Saturday 15th June

"We will meet again somehow,"

Harry was already sizzling, he'd only been at the stand for an hour but the sun was beating down. He'd grabbed an NYU ball cap out of one of the promotional boxes and stuck that on his head but it was doing nothing to stop the burning feeling on the back of his neck between his hairline and collar. It felt like pins were being stuck into his skin and not the soothing acupuncture kind. Candy was in a bubbly mood, handing out free soda and NYU pens. He was surprised she was enjoying it; the faculty and student family fun day didn't seem to be her kind of thing. There didn't seem to be anything she could gain from it. It wasn't like her at all, she didn't enjoy anything that didn't further her own ambitions. There must be something else going on that Harry wasn't aware of, unless of course her sunny mood was as a direct result of his misery.

They'd managed to avoid each other at work in the last week or so, since he had walked her home. There had been no mention of any problems at NYU and the date for his contract review just drew ever closer. When he had seen her she'd been entirely professional, cold almost. Ruby had given him a hard stare, she'd obviously realised there was an 'atmosphere,' but he didn't feel the need to share the details of that previous conversation with her. Ruby was his shelter from the storm; he needed her on his side.

The sports events were starting at eleven and a number of the schools they had been to visit were all sending teams. It wasn't organised sports from what Harry could make out, it wasn't like an inter school lacrosse championship, it was more 5 aside soccer and a glorified version of a primary school sports day. He'd not seen a sack race mentioned or egg and spoon, but it wasn't far off. Father and son table tennis, probably mother and daughter cookie dough rolling, he'd not read the flier too carefully.

On the next field or area of the park a big concert was being set up. He could hear the sound checking going on. The concert wouldn't be until the afternoon, the two event s would overlap for a while, but not for long. It would explain why the park was even busier than usual.

"How's business?" Candy asked as she returned to the table.

"I've got 12 teams already registered for the 5 aside soccer competition; and another four teams have registered for the ultimate frisbee challenge. My students are supposed to be arriving soon to help set up the ball pool and soft play area."

"Great, just don't wander off."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard."

"Hi Professor Cunningham, we brought you this, we thought you might need it." His students dumped a long thin sack on the ground.

"I think I'm grateful," Harry replied with a confused face. It didn't take them long to pull out the contents and start erecting the simple tent gazebo. It had open sides to let the wind through but a covered roof to keep the sun off.

"Thank you!" Harry said sincerely, immediately embracing the cool shade.

"You did have sunscreen on didn't you?" Chantelle asked.

"Of course I did, I can't leave my apartment without it," he laughed. "I might just take a restroom break though, if you'll be ok here. It's not complicated just give out fliers to anyone who walks close enough. And get any teams that arrive to sign up on the sheets here. There's another sheet in the box with all the insurance disclaimers on, they have to be filled in too."

"Sure thing."

Harry pointed out all the piles of paper, Chantelle just nodded, taking it all in.

"Professor?" she said, after Harry had dithered some more and restacked another set of forms. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened."

"Thanks Chantelle,"

Harry could have used the blue line of portapotties just behind his table but he decided to walk slightly further for a convenience with running water. He needed something to cool the back of his neck.

The water from the sink dripped down his back, it was slightly warm from being in the pipe, but still cooler than the inferno like temperatures outside. His shirt was wet with sweat so a bit more water wouldn't make much difference.

He could hear a piano being played at the concert area as he walked back to the NYU event. There was something familiar about it. He'd probably heard it on a night out with Jorge, they'd heard lots of local bands. There were banners and placards being erected all around the stage. It was going to be a big show. Maybe he'd hang around.

"Where have you been?" demanded Candy when he got back to the gazebo.

"I took a bathroom break, those are allowed aren't they?"

"You were gone a long time."

"Excuse me?"

"Just keep away from the concert area, it's some political rally thing, we cannot have NYU endorsing political views, do you understand?"

"It's just a concert." Harry retorted.

"It could be a fundraiser for Al qaeda for all I know. Stay away!"

"They're unlikely to fundraise in Central Park, aren't they?" Harry said casting his eyes south in the direction of the changed cityscape.

"Ah look, here come one of last year's winning teams, they named all the States and State capitals in alphabetical order and all took it in turns. It was an amazing sight," Candy enthused.

"Hi Scott," Harry said wearily. He couldn't muster any more enforced jollity; he was using all his energy to withstand the onslaught of heat and to keep a check on Candy. Her behaviour today had surprised him almost as much as on their walk home. Every time they spent time with each other, he saw another facet of her personality. He had no idea who the real Candy was. Maybe she'd been play acting for so long, she'd forgotten too.

"Hey Harry! I'd like to introduce my family, come on kids, come and say hello to Professor Cunningham, he's got an amazing accent."

"Hello," said Harry to the three girls and one boy stood in front of him. He'd realised after the third month that no matter how long he spent in America, his accent would set him apart like a freak show gimmick. It was irritating and exhausting.

"When's the food tent open Dad?" whined a middle sized one, "I'm hungry." He was given a couple of half-hearted waves from the gathered children, a whassup and a lot of chewing from the oldest with a sour expression and gum addiction. Perhaps that counted as a greeting?

"So what events are you signing up for today?" Harry asked.

"I think we'll just stick to the table tennis and see how the day goes," Scott replied.

"Have a great time," suggested Harry with a fake smile plastered on his face. He checked his watch, he'd agreed to stay until one; after that it was someone else's problem and he could go wherever he liked.

The day was nothing like a 'fun day' by his definition, he was hot and tired. Everyone around him, all the people he recognised had materialized with wives, husbands, partners, significant others and a throng of offspring. He'd noticed Debbie and her three children making their way towards the desk and had quickly shoved Chantelle back to the front claiming he needed to check on the insurance forms for the bouncy castle. How could anyone feel like bouncing on a hot day like this? He hadn't been spotted but as the morning wore on his mood only deteriorated.

"I need to go and get a drink," Harry said later when Candy came past.

"We've got plenty of soda, have one of those," Candy suggested.

"I need a drink, not a sugar surge. I'm going to go and buy a bottle of water. I'll be back in five minutes."

"You're on the clock until one Harry. It's only 12:15!"

Harry made his way over to a kiosk selling overpriced bottles of mineral water. He could read the placards and posters for the concert over on this side of the field. It wasn't Al qaeda as he supposed, it was raising money for the Syrian refugees and promoting peace in the Middle East. He recognised the amnesty international logo on the newly erected placards. He didn't understand why he couldn't even be seen near it. It wasn't as if his face was on any NYU poster.

He walked closer to get a better look and heard someone singing. It was the same tune he'd heard earlier he was sure. As soon as he made out the words he remembered where he had heard it before.

'How, can I begin again?

How can I love someone new?

How can our love be true?

When I'm not over you?

I guess you know by now that we will meet again somehow'

He realised he'd been stood staring at a poster, to catch the sound of the voice inside. His thoughts turning to a topic he'd tried so hard to move on from but couldn't.

Nikki.

Whatever he did, wherever he went there was always something to remind him of her and remind him that everything he wanted was impossible. With Beto back in town, it was finally safe to brave the lift and Elvis' pronouncements on the day, but it seemed even here in the park that the music was still taunting him.

"Nikki," he murmured.

She would hate him now; she'd still not answered any of his messages or emails. She'd have worked so hard to keep it together up to and including the funeral and now she would be exhausted and the only emotion left in her heart as Candy had pointed out would be her hatred of him for his betrayal and for letting her down, AGAIN.

Moving on from her was impossible; he'd tried, he had really tried but it was a reality that sat now in his brain etched in with other scientific proofs, just as concretely as Newton's Laws of Motion or Avogadro's constant. However much the pressure or space changed, this constant remained; the fact that he loved Nikki Alexander. But if moving on from her was scientifically impossible, which he liked to think he'd proved; then did it mean that now the only thing that was possible was the alternative?


How? Regina Spektor

So I made up a lot of this chapter…don't know if NYU do faculty fun days, certainly the university in the US I was associated with did, and wow was it strange. I only ever met the head honcho of the department once at that event, he now has presidential medals, is one of the most cited biologists ever and has the department named after him, when I met him he was still the top dog of the department but he was wearing only a pair of the smallest speedoes you've ever seen, looking just like Mr Burns from the Simpsons. Even 25 years isn't long enough to erase that memory. Also Regina Spektor has played for Amnesty International gigs, just not this year, I know I've used the song before, but it needed a reprise.