by Paige Toon
‘Have you any photos?’ Chloe is desperate to see Molly’s dress.
‘No.’ I’d realised this on the plane. It pains me but I don’t have a single picture of the wedding–or of Nathan.
My first day passes by in a blur. Jet-lag hits me at about 4 p.m. and Mandy sends me home early. I’m grateful.
I decide to catch the tube back, which comes as quite a shock after two weeks of living a laid-back holiday lifestyle. I could have just walked home but it’s freezing and I’m tired. Very tired, now. Three stops later and feeling faint from stupidly wearing my winter coat on the tube, I make my way to the exit. Within a couple of minutes I’m back out in front of the terraced five-storey cream stucco house that we call home. The trains from the nearby station are noisy but we’re used to it now. It’s part of the reason why this road isn’t crazily expensive. Terry often says we’ll have to move further out and buy a bigger place when we have kids, and I remind him that I’m only twenty-five, for crying out loud. I just want to stay here in our little one-bed flat for as long as possible. I’m certainly not thinking about having children anytime soon.
I make my way wearily up the three flights of stairs and unlock the front door.
‘Lucy!’ James says, surprised. He’s standing in our living room in his suit and has his mobile phone in his hand. He snaps it shut.
‘Hi,’ I say.
‘You’re home early.’ He comes over and gives me a kiss.
‘Mandy sent me home. I’m knackered.’ I eye his phone suspiciously. ‘What’s your excuse?’
‘I had a meeting on Baker Street with some clients–you know, the ones I told you about. It wasn’t worth going back to the office. I’d just finished speaking to Derek when you came in. Do you want a drink?’ he asks, looking back over his shoulder at me as he goes into the kitchen.
‘Sure,’ I tell him. His phone starts to ring.
‘Oh, bugger off, will you?’ He flips it open.
‘James here. No, it was fine. Yes. Yes, that’s right.’ He keeps talking as he walks into the bedroom. I hover by the kitchen door, listening. I can barely hear him so I go out into the living room and strain to take in what he’s saying.
‘Yep, he just wants to clarify a couple of points in his contract before we sign. That’s right…’
Okay, so it is only work. I’m becoming paranoid. I go back through to the kitchen and lift a couple of glasses down. A minute later he joins me. ‘How was your first day back?’
‘Yeah, good. Gemma and Chloe seemed really pleased to see me.’
‘Where are your earrings?’ he asks suddenly.
My hands immediately go up to my ears. ‘I took them off to go su-swimming,’ I tell him, altering my first lie halfway through to form another one. I haven’t even told him I went surfing in Sydney. He’d only feel threatened because he doesn’t know how to do it himself. And I’m certainly not about to admit I removed my earrings before I left because I couldn’t get the guy I went surfing with out of my mind.
‘Where did you go swimming?’ he asks.
‘Manly beach, a few days ago. I forgot to put them back on,’ I explain.
‘Oh,’ he says, looking upset. ‘Didn’t you wear them at the wedding?’
‘Um, oh, yes, I did actually,’ I stutter. ‘Sorry, I’m getting confused. I put them back on but took them off again for the flight because it’s uncomfortable enough on the plane without having bits of metal digging into the back of your ears…’ I realise I’m rambling and no doubt making him suspicious, so I quickly tell him I’ll go and find them now. Feeling guilty, I head to the bathroom to discover the earrings floating around loose in my jewellery bag. They seem heavy on my ears.
Back in the kitchen and keen to divert the attention away from me, I decide that now is as good a time as any to broach the subject I haven’t been able to stop obsessing about.
‘James,’ I say.
‘Yes?’
‘Did you ever find out who sent that text?’
‘No, Lucy, I told you, it wasn’t worth causing a fuss,’ he responds.
‘What if I wanted you to cause a fuss?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What if I said to you that if you didn’t find out who sent that text, I would check it out myself?’
He looks at me in surprise, then lets out a sharp laugh.
‘Seriously, though,’ my voice is brittle, ‘if I said to you that our relationship was over unless you gave me the names of the culprits who ruined at least twenty-four hours of my life, what would you do?’
He stares at me gravely now. ‘I’d find out, of course.’
‘Would you?’ I ask him hopefully.
‘Of course I bloody would,’ he insists. ‘I’m not going to lose you over some little tossers from my work, am I?’
‘Go on, then.’ I call his bluff.
‘What?’
‘Call and find out.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes. I am.’ I look him dead in the eye.
‘You want me to ring around this evening?’
‘Yes. Or I will.’
‘Okay, then.’ He raises his eyebrows and gets out his phone. ‘I’ll call Jeremy now and see if he can shed any light on it. But it’s going to make me look like a right twat.’ He scrolls through the names in his contacts list, then presses the green button and puts his phone up to his ear.
‘Wait!’ I say.
He looks over at me.
‘Hang up!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Hang up,’ I tell him.
He flips his phone shut.
‘I’d do it if you wanted me to,’ he says.
‘No. It’s okay. It’s okay.’
I go to bed early again that night but this time James comes with me, holding me in his arms as I fall asleep. I’m sure he’d like to have sex with me, but he doesn’t try it on, and if I wasn’t so tired I might ask him why.
The next morning when I wake up again just in time to catch the sunrise, I allow myself half an hour of thinking about Nathan, wondering what he’s doing, what could have been. I’m lost in my sad thoughts as the sun grows bigger and brighter in the sky, but when James appears from the bedroom I tell myself that’s it for the day. I try to keep my daydreaming to a minimum on the way to work, and the next morning, I allow myself just ten minutes of feeling lonely and depressed before I force myself to buck up. As the first week passes, James and I settle back into our easygoing routine. I stop playing segments of my stay in Sydney over and over in my head like a film on repeat. And when I do start to drift back into thoughts of nights out under the stars, cool, damp beaches and that tall, messy-haired surfer, it all seems a touch surreal and I drag myself back to the all-too-real present.
‘Hello…’ James says sleepily when he wakes up to find I’m still in bed with him at eight o’clock on Saturday morning.
I look down at him, his blue eyes struggling to open.
‘Hi.’ I smile. ‘I was just thinking about breakfast in bed. Do you want some?’
‘No.’ He yawns, pulling me back down. ‘Not yet.’
He grins at me sexily as he guides my hand to his boxer shorts. We haven’t made love since before I went away to Australia but now, feeling how turned on he is, I suddenly crave it. I smile naughtily at him as I slide out of my pyjama bottoms and he hovers above me and starts to kiss me passionately. I ease his boxers down and run my hands over his broad chest as he unbuttons my top.
‘I love you,’ he murmurs as he turns his attention to my nipples. When he eventually enters me I gasp. It feels raw. Different. As his pace picks up I can’t help it; I start to think of Nathan. What would he have been like in bed? Suddenly it’s Nathan’s chest, Nathan’s bum, Nathan’s eyes looking into mine. We climax at the same time and Nathan pushes deeper, harder into me. Then he pulls out and rolls over and I look at James. I start to sob.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me, sitting up in alarm.
‘I’m
sorry…’
‘Lucy, what is it?’
I’ve never cried after sex before.
‘That was just so…intense.’ I wipe my eyes.
‘Baby, come here.’ He laughs with relief, pulling me back into his arms. ‘I love you,’ he tells me again. I lie there silently for a moment, thinking of Nathan and wanting to cry more. I breathe in deeply and James holds me tighter. I’ve got to let go, I silently tell myself, which makes me weep again–my breath coming out in raggedy gulps. James pulls me away from him and gazes full of concern into my teary eyes. I look back into his blue ones and see a flicker of Nathan looking back at me. I turn away. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed with it all.’
‘With all of what?’ he asks me.
‘Oh, God.’ I sit up in bed. ‘It’s just been too much these last few weeks,’ I try to explain. ‘Going back home after all these years, seeing my oldest friends–I don’t have that sort of history with anyone over here. And then Molly and Sam’s wedding…I felt heartbroken when I had to leave them again. I wanted to stay.’
‘Weren’t you even looking forward to seeing me again?’ he asks sadly.
‘Yes, of course,’ I lie awkwardly. Then I come clean. ‘Actually, no. I’m sorry, James, but I wasn’t.’
What? Where did that honesty come from?
He looks at me with surprise and hurt. But I feel oddly indifferent towards his pain.
‘I’m sorry.’ I try to mean it. What’s wrong with me? ‘It’s just that…I felt like I was in another world over there. You were so far away and that text really screwed my head up for a while. I had such a good time with my friends and it was summer, the sun was shining…I felt…I wanted to be…single.’
‘Great!’ he exclaims.
Why am I telling him this? Am I trying to punish him for having sex with me? All of a sudden, compassion flows through me.
‘God, I’m sorry, James. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ I reach over and squeeze his hand. It remains limp in my grasp. ‘James, please. I didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as that. I just need to settle back in. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.’
He lies there, eyes staring straight ahead.
‘James, talk to me.’
Silence.
‘I should have kept my bloody mouth shut!’ My anger hits me out of the blue and instantly shatters his chilly demeanour.
‘No, it’s okay.’ He meets my eyes at last. ‘I’d rather you were honest with me.’
‘I don’t mean to upset you. Please bear with me. I’m just a bit freaked out, okay? It will be alright.’
‘I know.’ He reaches over to rub my shoulder.
I brush away the last of my tears, and, feeling like a traitor towards my boyfriend, glance longingly at the cupboard where Nathan’s tape is hidden and buried.
Chapter 12
It’s the following weekend. Mandy has kept me on my toes at work all week. She’s won a new account–the launch of a brand-new bar in Soho, which is in the process of being bought by famous Italian footballer Gianluca Luigi and his American fashion designer wife, Eliza. Mandy wants me to oversee the whole shebang, which means a trip to Milan next month to meet with the clients, and organising a kick-ass star-studded party. It’s a major deal for me–I’ve PR-ed bar launches before, but nothing this big–and she’s promised me a nice bonus if I pull it off. Plus I get to meet the Luigis and all the girls in the office fancy Gianluca.
Chloe and Gemma are very envious. Chloe keeps asking me to try to wangle another place for her to join me in Milan. It would certainly be a lot more fun if she did. The thought of it is daunting at the moment.
Almost every night this week, James has put pressure on me to have sex with him. I feel like he’s testing me after my recent outburst. I’ve been using the old jet-lag excuse, but I know it’s wearing thin. It does at least seem he’s now forgiven me for telling him I didn’t want to leave Sydney.
The only other run-in we’ve had was the other morning when I came into the bedroom to find him changing the dial back to UK time on my watch. I shouted in dismay, startling him with my reaction. He offered to put the time back to how it was but I despondently told him it was too late; the damage was done and now it just wouldn’t be the same. The poor love couldn’t understand my disappointment at all. He was only trying to help, I guess.
As for Nathan, I’m still trying hard not to think about him.
On Saturday morning I remember that Sam and Molly return from their honeymoon the next day so I call up Interflora and order a big bunch of flowers to be delivered to their home. James comes into the kitchen just as I’m telling the girl on the other end of the phone what the card should say.
‘I think something along the lines of…Okay, how about…Um. “Welcome home, guys! Hope you had a great honeymoon”–no, make that “an amazing honeymoon. All my love, Lucy”.’
‘AND James,’ James interrupts as he gets a glass down from the cupboard and fills it up with orange juice.
‘Oh, yes, can you make that, “Lots of love, Lucy and James”. And can you do a couple of kisses too, please.’
‘Charming,’ he says, when I get off the phone.
‘Sorry.’ I smile. ‘It’s only because you weren’t there for the wedding.’
He takes his juice through to the living room and plonks himself down in front of the telly.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I suggest. We’ve just had ten days of wind and rain. Today’s the first sunny day for ages.
‘Oh, I was going to watch the rugby.’
‘James…It’s such a lovely day. Come on, it’d be nice to do something together.’
‘It’s just that I’ve been really looking forward to this.’
‘Don’t you want to spend time with your girlfriend?’
‘Oh, Lucy, please don’t start.’ He moodily takes a sip from his glass and puts his feet up on the coffee table.
‘Fine.’ I get my coat. There’s no point in arguing with him once his mind is made up. So much for the flatscreen television being a present for me. Bloody thing.
Outside on the pavement I realise just how warm it is. It’s almost April and the weather has well and truly picked up. I wind my way through the back streets until I hit the south side of Regent’s Park. Bright yellow daffodils spring up from grassy banks and the trees are bursting with blossom. It makes me forget my mood with James and feel cheerful.
‘Lucy!’
I turn around to see James jogging towards me down the path.
‘Hello!’ I’m delighted. He stops in front of me and bends over, trying to catch his breath.
‘Decided to come and join you, after all.’ He grins up at me.
‘Ah, that’s nice.’
‘Christ, it really is warm, isn’t it?’ he says, taking off his grey Gap jacket.
We wander down the path, alongside the pond and stop to watch as children feed the ducks.
‘Can you believe those monkeys escaped from the zoo last year and were roaming around the park?’ James says, smiling.
‘What monkeys?’ I ask.
‘You know–the squirrel monkeys. A whole gang of them escaped by climbing up the trees in their enclosure. Where were you when that happened?’
‘I don’t know.’ I’m confused. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t heard about it.’
‘Well, it’s true, Lucy,’ he says wryly.
‘Are you sure it’s not just another of your tall tales?’ I smile up at him.
‘No, it’s not!’ he replies, annoyed.
Whatever.
‘So I haven’t really told you about my work this week, have I?’ I change the subject.
‘No.’ He turns to look at me expectantly. I fill him in on the Luigi account and my forthcoming trip to Milan.
‘That’s a shame,’ he says, before qualifying it. ‘I mean, it’s good for you, but you’ve only just come back. I don’t want you to go away again.’
&n
bsp; ‘James,’ I reproach gently, ‘it’s only for a weekend.’
‘I know,’ he says. ‘Just make sure that Gianluca twat keeps his hands off.’
‘He’s hardly going to go after me, is he?’ I laugh.
‘Bloody better not, or I’ll ’ave him,’ he responds good-naturedly.
Gianluca is rumoured to be a ladies’ man–even though he’s been married to Eliza for six years–but I’m quite sure I’ll be safe.
‘The other thing I need to talk to you about is Easter,’ I press on.
‘Right…’
‘It’s just that I know I said I’d come back to your parents’ house, but I’m really missing Mum,’ I add. ‘After the visit back to Sydney, I kind of need to be with her right now. Does that make any sense?’
He nods but he’s evidently disappointed.
‘Would you come with me?’ I ask hesitantly.
‘I can’t. You know I promised Mum I’d go and have Easter Sunday at home with Gran. She’s getting old and it might be her last ever Easter. It’d mean a lot to them if I was there.’
‘Okay, I understand.’ There’s not really a lot I can say about that. ‘I promise I’ll come home with you at Christmas, though,’ I offer.
‘That’d be great.’ He leans down and kisses me on my forehead.
I do wish he’d come with me–he hasn’t been to Somerset for ages–but it will be good to spend a few days with my family. I have a sudden craving for a pint of bright orange cider at our local pub. And a cream tea! Mmm. I’d better go for another walk tomorrow.
The next morning the home phone starts ringing at half past seven.
‘Who the hell is that?’ James moans.
‘I’ll get it.’ I jump out of bed and take the ear-piercingly loud phone through to the living room before answering it.
‘Hello?’ I say groggily.
‘Shit! What time is it?’ Molly’s voice comes shouting down the line.
‘Seven thirty.’ I laugh.
‘Oh, bloody hell. Sam, it’s seven thirty!’ she yells down the earpiece.
‘Ow!’