by Paige Toon
I look up at him sharply.
‘That’s right.’ Gemma laughs. ‘Squirrel monkeys. One of them–I think her name might’ve been Betty–was roaming around Regent’s Park for ages!’
‘See, Lucy?’ James says smugly. ‘I told you.’
‘Yeah, okay.’ I smile, graciously allowing him to revel in his victory. ‘Sorry.’
The following Monday at work I realise that Chloe is serious about this double-date malarkey.
‘Honestly, Chloe, this is a bad idea. James’s colleagues are all tossers.’
‘They can’t be that bad, Lucy, if he’s friends with them.’
‘No, they are. They’re all twats.’
‘Oh.’ She sounds dejected. I feel mean. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I’d have a better time going out with them if I had a friend of mine with me. I say this to her and her face immediately lights up.
‘When shall we go?’ she asks.
‘Next Friday?’
‘Yeah, that would work.’
‘Nice!’ Gemma chips in. ‘Cancelling our weekly drinks? What a bloody cheek!’
I didn’t realise she was listening. ‘Sorry, Gem, do you want to come too?’
‘Nah, it’s alright. I’ve been meaning to gatecrash Martin’s Friday-night work drinks for some time so I’ll probably do that.’
Next Friday, Chloe and I nip off to the toilets at six o’clock to start getting ready.
We catch a cab to the City, where James’s offices are, and the closer we get, the more suits we see.
‘Are you sure you want to date a “suit”?’ I ask Chloe, smiling.
‘Well, you do and he’s a bit of alright.’ She checks her reflection in her compact mirror, before snapping it shut. ‘Anyway all I’m interested in is what the guy looks like out of the bloody thing.’
We arrive at the bar to find it heaving with City boys and girls. Chloe and I make our way through the throng, keeping an eye out for my sandy-haired boyfriend and his wanker mates.
I spot Jeremy first.
‘Lucy!’ He waves at me.
‘Ooh, who’s he?’ Chloe asks as we weave our way towards him.
‘Why, you don’t fancy him, do you?’ I look back at her in surprise. ‘He’s a right idiot.’
She laughs. ‘I don’t mind him.’
Oh dear. I’d better lighten up if this is the way it’s going to go.
Jeremy engulfs me in a hug and plants a wet kiss on my face with his big red lips.
‘Hi.’ He beams at Chloe. I introduce them.
‘Hello,’ Chloe says chirpily, and Jeremy gives her a kiss too, before going off to order us vodka cranberries at the bar.
James is sitting with a group of City slickers round a booth table. He stands up immediately and squeezes past his pals to greet us. I recognise a couple of the guys from the Spanish holiday, and Zoe, who nods a curt hello and gives Chloe the once-over. She’s glowing, and has obviously been topping up her tan in the park since she arrived back. That or she’s a fan of spray-ons…She looks infuriatingly good, in any case. Edward, Susannah and Lila aren’t here, though, and hmm, let me think. Nope. I don’t miss their company at all.
‘Hello.’ James kisses me on the lips, followed by a kiss on the cheek for Chloe. He’s taken off his suit jacket, removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a touch. He looks good, and I can just make out his smooth, toned chest.
‘So, who’s who?’ Chloe shouts above the music.
‘Right,’ James shouts back, glancing furtively at his mates around the table. ‘Don’t make it too obvious you’re looking at them…That tall, lanky one on the end is Hector. Stop, you’re being too obvious!’ He prods her arm. Chloe turns her head quickly. ‘The chubby one next to him is Terence—’
‘They’re the ones you want to avoid,’ I interrupt, loudly.
‘Yeah, don’t worry about that.’ Chloe laughs. ‘They’re safe with me. Not my type.’ She gives a mock shudder.
‘Oh, they’re not that bad,’ James defends them. ‘Anyway that’s Zoe, who obviously isn’t of interest…’
‘Pretty,’ Chloe muses, and we can just hear her above the music.
‘Not my type,’ James bats back. ‘And next to her is where it gets interesting.’ I sneak a peek. That one in the dark grey shirt is pretty cute. ‘He’s new,’ James explains, clocking Chloe’s interest. ‘His name’s William.’
‘Single?’ Chloe asks, eyes lighting up.
‘Yep.’ James grins.
‘Gay?’ she asks, wryly.
‘No!’ He laughs. ‘Split up with his girlfriend a few months ago. Bit shy, though.’
‘Okay…’ she says.
‘Next to William is Tim—’
‘Nah, don’t fancy him,’ Chloe interrupts so James moves on.
‘And then we have Bryce. Canadian,’ he explains.
‘Not bad.’ Chloe nods. Yeah, he’s not bad actually. I’ve met him once before.
‘And that’s John and Nicholas. Both got girlfriends,’ James shouts, as Jeremy comes back from the bar with our drinks.
‘Here you go, ladies,’ he yells, and we thank him. He starts to nod his head to the music. I like The Chemical Brothers, so even I’m feeling more in the mood for this. I take a sip of my vodka cranberry. Strong. It’ll be doubles.
‘So what do you do?’ Jeremy shouts at Chloe, and I turn to James and smile happily.
‘It’s nice having you here,’ he shouts in my ear.
‘Ouch!’ I reply.
‘Sorry,’ he says, giving me a kiss. He taps Chloe on the shoulder. ‘Come and meet the others,’ he yells, taking her hand and leading her over to the table. Jeremy looks disappointed. I follow them and smile at everyone as he introduces ‘Lucy! My girlfriend!’ and ‘Chloe! Her friend!’ to all the people she or I don’t know.
‘How’s Lila?’ I turn to Jeremy, referring to the leggy blonde he was shagging in Spain.
‘Fuck knows,’ he shouts back. I look at him reproachfully and turn away, but he pulls me back and shouts in my ear, ‘I haven’t seen her since June.’
Zoe passes me on her way back from the loo and I motion to her.
‘Where’s Jim?’ I shout.
‘Atasttasar!’ she answers.
‘Sorry?’
‘AT. ANOTHER. BAR,’ she shouts, louder this time. ‘GOING. TO. MEET. HIM. SOON.’
‘WHY. DOESN’T. HE. COME. HERE?’ I shout back, just as loud, and she shrugs at me, before heading back to her seat. Bugger off, then. I turn back to Chloe. She’s talking to Bryce, who’s stood up to join us. William is still sitting at the booth, though. He glances up at me and I smile. Come and talk to me and I’ll set you up with my friend, I tell him telepathically, but he doesn’t move. James must be right about him being shy. I attempt to join in Chloe and Bryce’s conversation but I can barely hear them, so I decide to go to the ladies’ room instead.
When I come back, Zoe is standing up with her coat and briefcase and appears to be saying goodbye to James and Jeremy. She walks out through the bar as I approach and I clock Jeremy raising his eyebrows at James.
‘What’s up?’ I ask.
‘She’s being a moody bitch at the moment,’ Jeremy shouts back.
Lovely, I think, and James pulls me to him and gives me a kiss on the lips. He grins at me, then leans in to kiss me for longer this time.
‘Cut it out, you two!’ Jeremy yells in our faces.
It’s actually a really fun night. The music is great, the drinks keep flowing, and Chloe seems to be having the time of her life. It’s hilarious seeing the guys fawn over her. She’s been single for over a year since splitting up with her man and she deserves some attention. It was a complicated break-up. They shared a flat together–although they didn’t own it, thank goodness–but they had to continue living together for six weeks after they ended it because they couldn’t terminate their contract and neither of them could afford the rent on their own. At least the split was mutual; a case of growing apart. But it was still
traumatic towards the end for Chloe when Chris, her ex, started seeing someone else.
James is on top form. Funny, witty, sexy, and I’m proud to be there with him. I notice a few girls at the bar checking him out, but he’s the perfect boyfriend, paying me lots of attention. Jeremy drags us to a club and we all go, minus John and Nicholas, who head home to their girlfriends.
We secure a spot at the back and pile our coats and bags up on the velvet bench seats.
At about 2 a.m., James and I collapse down on the bench after half an hour on the dance floor. He’s not a bad dancer, especially when he’s had a few. Now he draws me to him for a passionate snog. When we pull away, Jeremy is coming back to the table, grinning at us, dirtily.
James leans back in again and nibbles my earlobe, then growls in my ear, ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Chloe is sitting further down the bench, laughing and talking intimately to Bryce. William seems to have left already. We offer to call her a cab but she’s having far too much fun to leave, so we say our goodbyes.
My gorgeous boyfriend and I, meanwhile, will go home and have mind-blowing sex.
Chapter 20
The phone rings at nine o’clock the next morning and I snatch it from the bedside table.
‘Hello?’ I ask sleepily.
‘Oh, bloody hell, have I done it again?’ Molly gasps. ‘What time is it?’
Laughing, I tell her.
‘Ah, that’s alright. Get up, you lazy sod!’
I glance over as James groans and pulls his pillow over his head, then I grab my dressing gown and go through to the living room. My head is pounding.
‘Urgh,’ I say to Molly. ‘Sorry about that. Just had to get out of the bedroom. Big night last night.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, but how are you?’ I ask groggily.
‘Really good, thanks,’ she answers, then says excitedly, ‘I’ve got some news.’
My God, is she pregnant?
‘Oh, you’re not…’ I almost start screaming down the phone.
‘I’m not what?’ She’s confused.
‘Sorry,’ I reply. ‘Go on.’
‘Nathan’s going to London!’ she bleats.
‘Oh, I know that.’ I laugh, and immediately realise my mistake. Molly and Sam don’t know that Nathan and I have been chatting.
‘You know?’ she asks, taken aback. Okay, the truth is out, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.
‘Yes,’ I answer. ‘He called me a couple of weeks ago and told me.’
Now, this is a tricky one. Do I tell her the full extent of our chats and chance her getting suspicious or do I water it down and risk her asking him about it? Oh, the web of lies you’re weaving, Lucy McCarthy…
‘He didn’t tell me that!’ She’s disappointed at not being the one to break the news.
‘Oh, you know, obviously just thought he’d better…’ I trail off. ‘Anyway! Isn’t it exciting!’
‘Yes, although Sam and I are desperately jealous. We will make it over there one of these days.’
‘You’d better! It would be about bloody time…’
‘So,’ she continues, ‘if he gets there on the last Saturday in September, you might even be able to go to the airport and meet him?’
My heart skips a beat. ‘Has he actually booked his ticket, then?’
‘I thought you said you knew!’
‘No, I mean, I knew he was thinking about coming…But…Wow. So he’s really coming, then?’
The last Saturday in September, I think, as we ring off. I feel jumpy. Literally sick with anticipation. I am definitely going to see him again. Hang on, why didn’t he call me himself to let me know he’d booked his ticket? I feel hurt. It occurs to me then, for the first time, that maybe he’s also feeling weird about seeing me again.
I consider calling him. But no. I still feel uncomfortable at the thought of having a conversation. I decide to text instead.
FLIGHT BOOKED THEN? MOLLY TOLD ME
YES. SHE KNOW WE SPEAK?
YES. SORRY. LET SLIP
HA HA. DON’T WORRY
I pause for a moment and then type out:
WHAT’S GREEN AND TURNS RED AT FLICK OF A SWITCH?
???
A FROG IN A BLENDER
TERRIBLE, LUCE, TERRIBLE
Relief sweeps over me and I suddenly regret not calling him and hearing his voice.
HOW’S HOUSE COMING ALONG?
GOOD. ALMOST DONE
YOU’LL BE TURNING INTO UR DAD NEXT. REAL PROPERTY DEVELOPER
A few months ago I would have been utterly on edge mentioning his late parents, but we seem past all that now.
THAT’S THE PLAN
Halfway through September, Mum comes to London for a shopping trip. She meets me at the flat.
‘Hello, Diane,’ James greets her warmly. He’s not coming out with us for lunch. It’s good to have some time to catch up with Mum alone as I haven’t been back to Somerset since Easter and it’s rare for her to be able to get away from the tea shop.
‘So, have you been counting down the days?’ she asks me drily, as soon as the waiter brings our drinks. We’ve managed to get a seat on the pavement outside a chic restaurant on Marylebone High Street and it’s a lovely sunny Saturday with a welcome cool breeze. August has been stifling.
‘No, Mum.’ I frown. I told her about Nathan coming here in a brief conversation a couple of weeks ago. We haven’t had a heart-to-heart about it, though. Often when we speak, James is in the room or near by, but I genuinely haven’t felt like discussing it and I’m finding it annoying that people keep asking.
I know it’s my fault for telling them in the first place. I keep kicking myself. I wish I hadn’t told anyone. Reena called me up the other day and was full of concern, which I didn’t want or need, and Karen called a few weeks ago to give me another lecture. My friends seem to be enjoying the drama of it and that just irritates me.
‘When does he arrive?’ Mum asks.
‘Two weeks’ time.’
‘Gosh,’ she says. ‘Not long.’
I still don’t want to talk about it, but the weight of her stare pressures me into opening up.
‘James and I have been getting on really well,’ I say. ‘So it’s a bit weird.’
Mum nods. ‘Well, that’s good.’
‘Mmm.’
There’s silence as she sips on her glass of white wine.
‘Oh, Mum, I don’t know. I haven’t even spoken to Nathan since I found out he might be coming. I’m really weirded out. I don’t know whether I’ll still feel the same about him. In a way I think I’m scared of not feeling the same about him. And I know that’s crazy. But now I’m not sure if it was real love in Sydney or just a stupid crush.’
‘Well, Lucy,’ she finally speaks, ‘I hope for your sake it is the latter. Otherwise it could get messy. But you’ll soon find out, either way. Are you going to meet him off the plane?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. If I do I’ll have some time with him alone. Because there’s no way James will get up at five o’clock in the morning…But I haven’t made up my mind yet.’
‘On the contrary, Lucy, I think you have made up your mind. Just be careful,’ she cautions.
‘I’m going to go and meet Nathan at the airport,’ I tell James.
‘Are you?’ he asks, surprised.
‘Yeah,’ I answer. ‘I think it would be nice. Molly and Sam did the same for me.’
He sighs with disapproval and turns back to the telly.
‘It’s not a big deal, James.’
‘If you say so,’ he says, but I can tell he’s not over the moon. I go over to the couch and climb onto his lap.
‘Oof,’ he says, as I squash his stomach. It’s full of the leftovers from our Thursday night Indian, if the smell from the kitchen is anything to go by.
‘Sorry.’ I grin. ‘Anyway you don’t mind, do you?’
‘Suppose not.’
He wriggles
uncomfortably, so I climb off him again and go back through to the bedroom to text Nathan my intentions. He texts me straight back with his flight details.
I wonder if Nathan senses my discomfort. I wonder if that’s why he’s also sticking to short texts rather than proper conversations.
But it’s not like he’s coming here for me, I keep telling myself; he’s coming because he wants to experience working in London. Here’s me arrogantly thinking I might have something to do with it, when for all I know he could already have another ‘Amy’ on the scene back in Australia. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t called. Maybe it’s because he’s overwrought with sadness and remorse about leaving her to come to the other side of the world for three months. Actually, that thought makes me feel off-colour. I hope it’s not that…
The nerves properly set in the week before he arrives.
‘Are you going to the airport?’ Chloe whispers to me, when Gemma disappears from her desk on Friday.
‘Yes,’ I whisper back, and she opens her eyes wide.
‘It’s not like that,’ I tell her tetchily. ‘I just don’t want him to land here and feel out of it.’
‘I thought he had a friend coming too?’ she asks.
‘Richard, yes,’ I confirm. ‘He arrived a couple of weeks ago and was doing a bit of backpacking around Europe. Nathan had to finish his house.’
‘What house?’ she asks, and I fill her in quickly before Gemma comes back. Just telling her about it makes me feel proud of him, though, and a few butterflies swarm through me. I clip their wings. I keep hearing Mum’s warnings:
It could get messy…Be careful…
I don’t go out that Friday night. Nathan’s flight arrives the next day at the ungodly time of 6 a.m., and I need to get to Heathrow for 6.30 at the very latest. I’m in bed when James gets home late. I can hear him stumbling around in the darkness, cursing as he stubs his toe on the end of the bed. I don’t stir. I can’t fall asleep, but I’m stubbornly trying to. My alarm will wake me up at 5 a.m., to give me time to get dressed, catch a cab to Paddington and jump on the Heathrow Express. As it is, I’m out of bed at 4.30 after about only two hours’ sleep, and spend the extra time working the concealer on the bags under my eyes. I creep around getting ready, so as not to disturb James, but he’s out cold.
