‘I know!’ she leaned closer to share in his moment, ‘So your dad lives out there?’ Nick prickled and slowly released his hand from Lucy’s. ‘How did that come about? Did he decide to retire to a cosy villa in the sun?’
‘Not exactly.’ he answered, sitting back and crossing his arms. He threw a sullen look at the blushing barista, who turned after an intense few seconds of eye contact which to her felt like a naughty mini-eternity.
‘Well come on, who is he?’ Lucy pressed.
‘Lucy.’ he said seriously and retook her hand, ‘When are we going out again? You know, share in our common interest?’
‘Common interest?’ she parroted, a large crease between her eyes rising like a thermometer.
‘Yeh, you know? Helping each other find… fixes.’
‘Are you kidding? Is that really our common interest?’
‘It is what it is.’ he said arrogantly, ‘After all it’s the bloody basis of our relationship!’
‘Then that shows how screwed up our relationship is!’ she spat, rising to her feet and putting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. ‘Silly me! I forgot we’re not supposed to be normal and have normal conversations like normal bloody people!’
‘Lucy…’
Agitated, she started to collect her belongings from the table, ‘Oh no, we have to relive the past and play depraved games!’ she yelled, placing the salt and pepper pots in her bag and lifting them out again. The dark-haired barista looked away embarrassed and pretended to clean the coffee machine.
‘Lucy, please.’ he hushed, pleading with his eyes.
‘Konrad’s right, you are just chasing memories!’ and she turned to leave.
‘Oh, really! And so are you!’ he shouted as she powered through the coffeehouse.
‘Not anymore!’ she called back, nearly snagging herself on the corner of a jutting table but impressively turning her misstep into a short-cut for the door with a defiant spin of her heels. Nick stirred, ‘Lucy! Wait!’ and as she yanked the door open he got to his feet and held out his hands, ‘I haven’t spoken to my dad in three years.’ Lucy paused, caught between the café and the street – rejoining the friend who had just insulted her or going home for a rest before work. Nick could feel her edging away so played the ace up his sleeve, ‘And he lives in a cave.’ he said, dramatically throwing his hands in the air and slumping into the chair. Lucy’s interest was piqued; her eyes lit like candles and the tiniest of smiles flashed across her lips. She carefully closed the door and decided to rejoin her offensive friend; fighting her curiosity she calmly sat and looked at Nick’s low gaze and defeated demeanour.
‘A cave? Go on…’
Nick, still looking at his shoes, thought for a moment then raised his head and resignedly opened up, ‘My parents were hippies.’
‘Okay.’ she said taking his hand.
‘Like… proper out there!’
‘With you so far.’ she said reassuringly. Nick looked away feeling uncomfortable; he turned back with an anxious smile.
‘God, this is very confessional, it feels like an intervention or something!’ He raised his hand as if swearing an oath and addressed the space behind Lucy like it was an assembly, ‘Hello, my name is Nick Green and I’m a recovering hippie…’
Lucy smiled weakly, ‘Don’t worry; it’s good to talk about things.’ She rubbed the top of his hand.
‘I know. And I want us to be normal; have normal conversations!’
‘And we will one day, now continue telling me about your hippie dad that lives in a cave…’
Nick laughed and a weight of reluctance left his body; he knew he had a sympathetic ear.
Samoan Sam sipped his espresso as he waited outside Josh’s office, regarding a group of workers in black overalls reorganising the spacious gallery. He sighed as the rich coffee revitalised his bulky frame and tenderly raised his little finger as he brought the cup to his lips for another satisfying slurp.
‘Get in here.’ called a gruff voice from behind the door. Sam set the cup down and entered the office. ‘What you got for me?’ Josh asked impatiently as he signed papers at his large L-shaped desk.
‘Nothing new, boss. I’ve had to lie low a while.’
‘What?’
‘I think I may have been seen.’ he said recalling the public spectacle in the park and having to flee from a chubby one-armed man.
‘So you haven’t had a word with Lucy?’
‘Not yet, boss.’
‘Jesus, Sam, I need her out of the picture. Her involvement makes me very edgy – and I don’t like being edgy!’ he said, getting to his feet.
‘I understand.’
‘And you’ve got nothing new on Nick?’ he asked as he walked towards the drinks counter.
‘No.’
‘So why the wasted visited? I’m extremely busy, Sam.’
‘I remembered who that woman was at the park.’
‘Who?’ he asked pouring a large cognac.
‘Her name’s Amanda, she was the big-shot lawyer who sent my brother Mickey down.’ he answered bitterly.
‘What for?’
‘Twelve counts of fraud and embezzlement.’
‘Wait! Your brother’s Maori Mickey?’
‘Yeh.’
‘But you’re Samoan?’
‘Boss, we’ve been over this…’
‘Oh well, potato-patato, you all look the same anyway!’ he said with a dark grin.
Samoan Sam cringed and clenched his fist as the mental image of smashing Josh across the room entered his Polynesian psyche. He breathed deeply and returned to the topic at hand, ‘I’d love the chance to get that bitch back!’
‘No way! Too risky.’
‘There’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘Her surname’s Caulston.’
‘So?’
‘The same as Lucy’s!’
‘Really?’ he said as the colour drained from his face.
‘And seeing as they were with Nick at the park, and that they look quite similar– although all you Europeans do to me – I think it’s fair to say they’re sisters.’
‘And for some reason they’ve jumped to Nick’s defence…’ Josh said pacing the office. ‘This makes things very complicated.’
‘What can they really do, boss? Nick’s already pleaded guilty, they can’t…’
‘This is bigger than just Nick!’ Josh interrupted, ‘Lucy has something on me that Sofia must never find out, and her sister – if she’s who you say – may take an unwelcome interest in this case and dig up things I’d rather leave hidden! Sam, the need to get them out of the picture is paramount, do you understand?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Can I rely on you to warn them off… discreetly?’
Sam smiled, ‘I think so.’
Josh’s eyes widened, ‘You think?’
‘Of course, boss, of course.’ he said and exited the office; Josh returned to his desk and slumped in his chair, resting his head in his sweaty palms.
‘Where to start? Well, my parent’s methods were… different.’ Nick said.
‘Yeh I got that!’
‘Oh, you have no idea.’
‘Try me!’
‘Growing up I didn’t have one father, I had three.’
‘Three?’
‘Now you’re intrigued, right?’ Lucy sat with her mouth open, edging forwards. ‘My Earth-father was my biological dad – the one in Tenerife. My Spiritual-father was just some pagan priest or other who thought he had a direct-line to the source of all energy and tried to open my channels. My Fire-father was… well, pretty cool actually! He was like a life coach, he encouraged my passions and allowed me to grow doing things I wanted. It was basically like spending time with the softest parent in the world!’
‘It explains a lot!’ she joked. Nick flinched at the jibe and appreciating the sensitivity of the subject she decided to backtrack, ‘And your mother?’
‘My mum was my mum.’ he s
aid, dreamily looking to the distance. ‘She home-schooled me and gave complete love every second of the day. An incredible woman – and until Sofia I’d never met anyone like her.’
‘And she and your three dads were…’
‘What?’
‘Lovers?’ she asked awkwardly.
‘It was a commune, Lucy.’
‘I don’t know what that means.’
Nick faltered, uncomfortable with the question, ‘I… I don’t kn…’ he looked at her resolutely, ‘Probably.’
‘Jesus! I knew you were screwed up but this is…’ she stopped short. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s okay. I moved away from all that when I was eleven. I was always running away and my mum could see I was rejecting it more and more. After I burned down the commune temple and made my spiritual-dad have a mental breakdown she moved us to my nan’s house outside Cambridge. I joined the same school as Konrad and, from then at least, had a relatively normal upbringing!’
‘Relatively normal?’ she echoed, laughing to herself. ‘So how did you end up in London?’
‘Kon and I started living together when we went to university. We have ever since.’
‘Cool!’ she said, impressed with his unusual life tale. ‘But you said you aren’t talking to your dad – is that just your Earth-father or all three?’
‘You trying to wind me up?’
‘No, no! Genuine question.’
‘My real dad. I never saw the other two after we moved away.’
‘So why don’t you speak to him anymore?’
‘The minute my mum died he went to Tenerife with another woman. A hippie called Astral – which is actually her real name; believe that if you will!’
‘This is amazing.’ Lucy drooled, her chin resting on the back of her hands devouring his every word.
‘He was always resentful about having to rejoin society for my sake. My mum, to her credit, tried to be as conventional as possible but he was unbearable. It was one of the main reasons I moved out at sixteen.’
‘Was he violent?’
‘No, nothing like that, he was just an utter dick!’ Nick started to laugh, ‘He even changed his name to Ilove.’
‘Ilove?’
‘Yeh. Ilove Green – it was a cannabis statement!’
‘Oh.’ Lucy said disappointedly.
‘I know! He used it as an ice-breaker to get women too. He’d change his surname so he’d be Ilove Head or Ilove Bottom, something like that – all very degrading!’
‘What was his real name?’
‘Norman.’ he answered, Lucy’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. ‘I know! And just one letter away from normal! Ironic, isn’t it?’
The pair absently sipped their cappuccinos and reflected a moment. All previous tension was decimated when they spontaneously burst into a fit of laughter. Nick sprayed coffee from his nose onto the table and neither was entirely certain why the other was sniggering so hard but it didn’t seem to matter – it was most fitting considering the absurdity of the topic. After a while Lucy composed herself.
‘So your pot-loving, hippie father – one of three – changed his name to Ilove as a cool way of meeting women and endorsing marijuana, and he now lives in a cave in Tenerife with Astrid?’ she summarised, dabbing her tear-filled eyes.
‘Basically!’ he replied, also sobbing from the euphoric release.
‘God, that’s funny.’ she said looking away. ‘Incredible story, Nick; I have to give it you!’
‘I’m glad my family tree’s so amusing!’
‘A cave though? How does that even work?’
‘Around this protected reserve there’s a network of natural caves; it’s home to a small community of bohemians and the like and they set up home there. They probably busk outside bars, fish and scrounge for food and live outside the system. I suppose they’re happy like that.’
‘I can see why you’ve been reluctant to visit him.’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Although you know you really should, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I know.’ he said turning his gaze to the brunette barista who’d been staring at him during the whole conversation. Lucy drained the remaining dregs of cappuccino and got to her feet.
‘I better get ready for tonight; do you wanna come back and chill at mine?’
Nick sat upright, ‘Go with you?’
‘Yeh, you still want to go to the gig? Maybe after we could go out somewhere, you know?’
Nick checked the beaming barista as she twirled the ends of her hair, ‘You know what? I think I’m just gonna stay here.’ he said, staring at the brunette as Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl played softly around the café. Lucy’s shoulders slumped, the crease on her forehead returning with verve; she tried to offer a casual reply but his rejection twisted her insides. Without word she grabbed her bag and walked out – uninterrupted this time. Nick approached the girl, who quivered with every step until his looming presence was upon her like a shrouding shadow, ‘You seem like a beautiful, intelligent woman, do you wanna hear a D. H. Lawrence poem I adore so much?’
Chapter 7
Flight & Fancy
As Nick said a long goodbye to the coffeehouse barista at the front door, his dressing gown opened and he gave an unwelcome eyeful to the elderly neighbour making her way up the stairs; she held her gaze a little longer than necessary before tutting her disapproval and ambling to the next floor.
‘Call me!’ the barista said, mimicking a phone with her fingers as if the simple request needed visual clarification, and merrily skipped down the stairs to join the string of pedestrians busying along Camden High Street.
‘You’re worse than Benito Mussolini, Nicholas!’ Konrad screamed from the sofa the moment Nick closed the front door, ‘Abusing people for your own selfish gain!’
‘Mussolini? Really?’ he replied, outstretching his arms to enjoy a hearty yawn.
‘Sort your dressing gown out – I’ve just had breakfast!’ Konrad said, needlessly visualising the wardrobe malfunction with erratic finger gestures. Nick joined Konrad on the sofa and gave him an emphatic slap on the thigh, further angering his already-tetchy roommate. ‘Nicholas, I swear…’
‘Still on Nicholas are we? Calm down, Kon!’
‘I’m not in the mood.’ he warned.
Nick bounced happily in his seat, ‘Well she was a little firework!’
‘So I heard through the wall.’ Konrad replied dryly. Nick tickled his ribs, forcing him to jump from the sofa. ‘Don’t make me nipple-twist you again, because I bloody will!’
‘I had an amazing night.’ he continued through his dreamy gaze.
‘Riding high are yer?’ Konrad said dully as he straightened his pyjama top.
‘God, she reminded me of Sofia.’ he said with a grin, ‘Not so much in looks but in bed with the lights off… I’ve just had 12 hours back with my babe!’
Konrad’s face screwed like a baby sucking a lemon, ‘Just listen to yourself! This isn’t real, Nick!’ he shouted at his nonplussed friend on the sofa, still high on happiness. This irritated him further so he stood in front of Nick, leaning forwards like a darts player at the oche, and took aim with a firm pointed finger, ‘What’s real is The Italian Witch is going out with the gallery owner you smashed up and you could go to prison as a result!’ he said, jutting his finger as if throwing darts at a board and popping the feelgood bubble Nick was revelling in. He rebalanced his weight and raised his finger in preparation for the next go, ‘That woman is toxic in you now! She left and you turned whatever feelings you had into a poison which is slowly destroying your life!’ Nick’s expression stiffened as Konrad realigned his stance and again took aim, ‘And you’re barely working! It’s funny, you’re so ashamed of your dad but don’t realise that if you carry on like this you’re also going to end up living in a cave – and it won’t be through choice!’ Sensing his point was well made Konrad left with a perfect score of 180, appropriately slamming the bedroom door upon his victorious entrance.
Amanda passed Lucy a plate of toast and tightened the belt around her slacking dressing gown. Lucy’s glum demeanour failed to acknowledge her and Amanda scowled at the back of her head as she devoured breakfast without word.
‘More tea?’ she asked, probing for interaction; Lucy slid her cup to the edge of the table to signal acceptance. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I’m fine.’ Lucy shot back. Amanda resisted the temptation to dispute the dubious assessment and refilled the kettle as Lucy continued eating in icy silence.
‘How did it go at the gig last night?’ she offered as a palatable titbit of conversation.
‘Fine.’
Amanda was annoyed; her mouth tightened and nostrils flared. Many years as a barrister had taught her to conceal her emotions, but feeling frustration at being intentionally ignored was one she’d failed to eradicate; the tension smothered her patience, ‘Oh, stop fobbing me off with fine! I’m not a bloody boyfriend, I’m your sister and I understand the use of fine in that tone!’
‘True.’ Lucy conceded, ‘Sorry.’
‘So what it is?’
‘Not right now, please. I don’t really know myself.’
‘Well, whenever you want to talk…’
‘Thanks.’ Lucy said and finished her toast.
Amanda returned to tea-making duties but was again unable to complete the simple task, turning to Lucy for one last stab, ‘So that’s it? You’re just going to leave me hanging?’
‘Amanda!’
‘Is it Nick?’
‘What?’
‘You’ve been spending a lot of time together recently and I noticed…’ Amanda paused.
‘Noticed what?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No! What have you noticed?’
Amanda considered withholding her observation but chose to cough it out like unwanted phlegm, ‘I’ve noticed there haven’t been any Christopher lookalikes round here lately.’ she said scanning Lucy’s face for reaction.
Double Ex: A Romantic Comedy about Lost Love & Lookalikes Page 6