For the Love of God and the Arab Rising

  Chapter Nine: New York here we come. Catriona and I finally arrived at JFK airport at 1700hrs on Thursday 11th December; after a year of scrimping and saving the excitement was palpable, we were relaxed, but excited to be on holiday. Catriona pushed and shoved as politely as is physically possible without causing offence and headed for the exit door of the plane. Her eyes were ablaze with excitement as she searched for her first glimpse of the great United States of America. We worked our way towards passport control. ‘Hello and good day madam’ the guard greeted Catriona. ‘Hello’ she replied and handed over our passports. ‘What are the reasons for your visit and where are you staying?’ ‘We are on holiday for two weeks in New York and we are staying at the Stanford Hotel in the Korean sector, just off Times Square’. ‘Thank you Madam, thank you Sir; enjoy your stay’. Unknown to us an administrator has been tipped to look for our arrival and interrogate the database to find out where we are staying. We were all ready being ‘reeled in’ to face the consequences of my previous fallout with Mr Ray Mead. Onwards to the baggage carousel: it should not take more than thirty minutes to receive our bags, but we are the last to get our bags and Catriona is her usual volatile self. Frustration is really starting to set in when the bags finally appear through the thick plastic slats of the baggage area. Thank Christ for small mercies; at least the bags were not lost. Although: I do wonder why and how our bags just happened to be the ones to come out last. We set off through customs and duty free; nothing to declare and nothing wanted. It’s quick and easy and we are on our way to the exit of the airport, and then onwards to down town New York.

  It’s not until we reach the outside taxi rank that we realise how bloody cold it is. The weather is freezing, it must be minus two degrees out here, snow has settled, and it is still falling. Thankfully the wind is only a breeze and we are saved from another 5 degree drop due to any wind chill. Taxi! I shout, and tease Catriona who is ecstatic that we are cueing for her first ride in a yellow taxi. ‘Hotel Stanford, Korean District,’ ‘No problem sir’. Our driver has a classic soft drawl to his accent and seems to be a perfectly decent chap. The traffic is something else though, it must be rush hour and the roads are packed. A piercing, deep growling noise rips its way through the din of the traffic, it’s a New York Fire engine and everyone pulls over. Cat is soaking it all up and grinning like a 16 year old girl: ‘Oh it’s a Fire Engine!’ she cries, laughing loudly, she leans over and kisses my cheek, hers eyes beaming with happiness. We arrive at the hotel and a five dollar tip keeps the driver happy; he thanks me profusely. The humidity in my breath forms clouds of vapour before me as I talk and walk my way towards the entrance, struggling to climb over the snow covered curbs. Catriona and I stroll into the Stanford, a world of room service, polished brass and the sweet smell of good quality coffee. And of course multi channel TV.

  We gleefully ‘check in’ and the holiday spirit is in full flow. After being shown to our room by the concierge; it’s on the 12th floor: we dump our bags in a heap and give another tip of five dollars to the concierge. He smiles, turns quickly on his heels and strides away. Now then we declare: it’s time to go and see the bright lights of New York City. We exit the hotel and stand for a moment to take in the smell of Korean cooking hanging over and mingling with the cold December air. The streets are covered in ice and patches of brown salt; the snow is still falling and the New York City road sweepers push the ice and snow to the kerb. We turn right and walk past the numerous Korean restaurants and eateries. And also the many tourist shops selling tea shirts, sweat shirts, cups and pens, in fact anything that the words ‘New York’ can be stuck to, or ironed on to. Then right again along 6th Avenue towards ‘Times Square’, past Bloomingdales and a dozen more souvenir shops selling everything from a New York baseball cap to china ‘Betty Boop’. Nothing can beat the experience of walking through Times Square and Central Park on a winter’s night; buildings and trees are illuminated with brilliant, flashing, and animated displays that fill the mind and eye with wonder. Cloak this with sub zero temperatures and heavy snow snowfall and you have an effect that is truly psychotropic. We have a wonderful first evening walking around; our necks get a little sore looking at all the lights and the tops of the very tall buildings. Manhattan is a sight to behold for sure; we already know we will return and our holiday isn’t even finished yet.

  The alarm clock echo’s its electronic beep around the room. I jump out of bed as quickly as any 35 year old is entitled to do so and head for the coffee machine, switch it on and just for a moment watch it gurgle into life. I look out of the window and New York stares me in the face, the snow, the hustle and bustle, the incessant noise of a manic but civilised city, all ready in full swing even at this early hour. Catriona starts to stir and before I know it the TV is on, CNN: it’s good to see the news from a different point of view, the accents, the police cars, and all that goes with it. A hot shower is next on the list and I am still dripping wet when I race out of the bathroom and jump on Catriona who is still relaxing in bed. ‘Get off you idiot!’ She tries to push me off but to be honest I am as horny as hell and I hold her tightly. She has a great body from years of training, smells gorgeous and I cannot resist trying to push my luck. ‘Come on Cat, give me a kiss my darling’ She looks at me, considers my worthiness and replies by stroking my arm and kissing me fully on the lips, her sweet smell captures me and I respond eagerly to her warm, soft, wet, mouth. Her legs slowly drift apart and her hips push forwards, towards mine as my leg slowly but firmly pushes between her thighs, pushing gently and firmly into her warming woman hood. Catriona grips my back and thigh, her nails nipping at my nerve ends, pulling me to her. She softens, her body temperature and heart rate increasing with every moment, kissing and pulling me even harder, urging me on. My manhood becomes harder, my instincts insisting to take the next step. Our two bodies align and I ease myself into position, and then I nudge her soft, hot womanhood. The connection is gentle, a little at first, careful to take my time and not hurt her. And then when I am fully locked in with the woman I love, I push harder, and then harder again. Catriona gasps and pulls me to her. My free hand urgently takes hold of her firm muscular thighs and caresses her curvaceous waistline. I kiss her gently at first, finding the required angle of comfort and soft sensation; and then harder, pulling her head into mine, the crushing softness nearly drawing blood. I slow down to savour the moment, my rhythm continuing as I take hold of her breast, her hard nipple pushing into my palm. Catriona is now nearing her climax and starts to push back, taking from this moment what she wants, and making love to me in return. The pressure in our erogenous nerve endings build to a crescendo of painful pleasure that takes us together in relief and ecstasy. And then we rest, sated. Nothing on earth can compare to lying beside your lover, hot, spent and content with your lot in life, nothing at all. Catriona showers and I jump in for a second time, both of us giggling and playing.

  After dressing and checking our paperwork and money are in order, we head down to the cafe; it’s the standard continental breakfast: pastries, toast, coffee, orange juice and jams. We tuck in and both study the map. ‘Well, what do you fancy doing; the Natural History Museum, 5th Avenue, Times Square, Ground Zero, or Central Park?’ All of it declares Catriona, every little bit of it.

  We exit the hotel, stroll up 5th Avenue and take a look at what shows are viewing this year. Work, London and my troubles seem a million miles away; it was worth the pain of saving for the past eleven months. We take a nice walk, there is plenty to see and do: such as street entertainers; and street vendors selling hotdogs and honey covered roasted nuts. The smell is just lovely. New York City Police cars and Fire Engines seem to push their way through the traffic every thirty minutes or so and provide no end of entertainment for Catriona. We stare in amazement at the Illuminated signs which are literally as tall as buildings. Every building around Times Square is covered with them. It truly is a sight to behold; the ‘Big Apple’ in all its glory. They do not seem to have as ma
ny historical and cultural buildings as London; but what they do have is the American Museum of Natural History, an Impressive and crowning glory located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. One of the founders being Theodore Roosevelt ‘senior’; the father of the 26th US President: many of his most famous quotes are displayed on the walls of its cavernous entrance lobby. The throng of constant tourism and local people going about their business continues to fascinate me; every section of the museum is packed with people excitedly talking and pointing at bones and illustrative descriptions of times gone by. And as no visit to the museum would be complete without taking time to attend the ‘Planetarium’; we duly buy our tickets and enjoy a ride through the ‘big bang’

  The day passes without any drama and we return to our room to freshen up, it’s about 5pm and we fully intend to return to the ‘Big Apple’ night life as soon as we can. Except that all hell breaks loose, the room is ransacked and our clothes are everywhere. It is a complete mess and Cat is devastated. She is just in shock, crying and screaming for the police. I call reception. ‘Please, please call the police, our room has been broken into, we have been robbed’. The hotel manager appears in minutes. ‘Do not worry sir the police are on their way’. ‘Do not worry? Look at my bloody clothes!’ Catriona cannot help but take it out on the poor manager. I start to tidy up, but the manager reminds me not disturb the scene of the crime, the police will want to check things: finger prints etc. ‘Yes, you’re right, well done’. He’s right and to be fair, I should bloody well know better, I am an ex military policeman after all. But, the manager seems all to calm to me, either he has seen it all before or he knows something. He appears to be white European, slim, forty or so and looks tired, not so unusual for a shift worker; except for the fact that everyone else around here is Korean. ‘Catriona listen to me. It’s not that bad, I had all the documents and money on me and we have no jewellery; it’s a mess, but that’s it’. ‘I know your right Steve, but I’m not staying here and that’s final’. The manager is ever present and alert; I get his name from his chest badge. ‘Juan, I hope I have pronounced your name correctly. But can we have a new room please and leave this one for the police’. ‘Yes sir, at once sir, we have a few rooms left, I am sure we can upgrade you’. ‘How’s that Cat?’ ‘That’s fine. And can we get something to eat please’. ‘Yes, I suppose so’.

  The manager receives a radio call that the police are on their way up in the lift. By the time that we have given our statements and packed our bags and moved rooms, another 2 hours has passed. It’s nearly 730pm. We are allowed to move our essential clothing and toiletries to our new room. And on closing the door, decide to leave our troubles behind us and head out into the night once more. We walk along 6th Avenue again, but quickly turn right and take a look around the Empire State Building. Once inside: we admire the expanse of dark brown marble, surrounded by the eclectic and artistic ‘art deco’ design. But we must eat, and we decide on something a little unusual tonight. A Jewish restaurant just of the Square; big cutlery, big steaks and a bottle of Red Wine later, combined with walking all day has settled us down and I am not too worried. I just can’t shake of this nagging feeling though: could it be possible that Ray and his brethren are giving me grief, but surely not, I’m in New York, bloody miles away. With full bellies and heads clouded with good wine, we head outside once more. It remains bitterly cold, but the snow has abated. Snowploughs clear the side streets; a JCB is literally scooping up tonnes of snow into a city truck. It really feels like Christmas, I hug Cat and we stroll along the crowded pavements; back towards the hotel and the corner of 6th and 5th Avenue. ‘Let’s go into Macys’ Catriona declares with a squeal of delight. ‘Have they got a computer department?’ I ask. ‘Oh don’t be silly for god’s sake Steve! Leave it until we get home’. We dodge the crowds and wonder at the mechanical puppet displays in the windows of America’s largest department store. We enter through a set of massive steel and glass doors into a huge triple height space filled with glitter and illuminated displays of wonder and temptation. I can’t help myself though; I keep looking into mirrors and out of the corner of my eye to see if anyone is following us. It’s my army training: always be observant, stay alert, and stay alive. It was only a little paperwork, it cannot have been that important, surely. Catriona kisses me on the cheek and grips my waist beneath my skiing jacket. ‘It’s wonderful darling, a shopper’s delight. Let’s go on up to the next floor.’ We jump on the escalator, an old rickety wooden affair, a bloody museum piece if you ask me.