London Calling (25 page)

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Authors: Clare Lydon

BOOK: London Calling
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I called Julia the next day and told her about Kate and Vicky’s accident, which stopped her in her tracks. I could tell from her quickening breathing that she was revving up to tell me her next tale of wedding woe.

“Shit that’s awful – is Kate home now?”

“No, later – I have to ring Jack after midday to find out the latest. Lucy’s going to drive me up there and bring Kate back though, so that’s good.” I dropped it in casually, waiting for the response that duly arrived.

“Lucy? Hang on a minute, rewind please. Lucy? Who hates you?”

“She never hated me.”

“I think she bloody might have.”

“Well, anyway…”

“…Oh my god, it was meant to be your date last night!” The penny had dropped.

“It was, but we didn’t end up going. Instead I went to babysit the boys and Lucy came over and drove me home.”

“So much to take in!” said Julia, thrilled that someone else’s life had more drama than hers. “It’s like a scene from some corny rom-com. While sister-in-law lies fighting for her life, the love of your life comes to help you with the kids and holds you in her arms while you sob into your beer.”

“That’s exactly what happened, did you install cameras again?”

“Ha ha,” she said. “So tell me then.”

“Tell you?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It was just… Nice.”

“Jess.” Julia sighed impatiently. “How many times do I have to tell you that nice is not a word. Strike it from your vocabulary, it serves no purpose at all. What did she say? After your big speech in the opticians and everything – did she bring it up?”

I shrugged, always effective in a phone call.

“Not exactly but I think it’s smoothed over – it wasn’t really the time to go into detail but we did talk. It was just good having her there and being driven home. And before you ask, she went home because she had to work in the morning. We’re taking it slowly this time.”

“You are like a corny rom-com,” she said. I could hear her smiling down the phone and I couldn’t help but smile too.

“Well I don’t care if we are. I just want a quiet life now and for things to get back to normal.”

“Not till after next weekend I hope.”

“What’s happening next weekend?” I said.

“I’m eloping and leaving Tom at the altar after he reveals to me that he’s allowed his mother to book a wedding singer whose speciality is
Wind Beneath My Wings
.”

“I love that song.”

“Don’t you start.”

“Let’s not drag Bette into it.”

“Or a wedding singer,” Julia said.

“Anyway, while we’re on the subject…”

“Of wedding singers? I’m only accepting Adam Sandler, just so you know. And he has to have his comedy nose on too.”

“I’ll make sure that his agent knows. Nose, geddit?”

“Ha ha.”

“Anyway, about your wedding,” I said.

“You’re not getting out of it now.” There was a firmness in her voice.

“I’m not trying to. It’s just… well, now Lucy and I are back together, I’d like to bring her…”

“…Which I told you was fine ages ago. I never scrubbed her off the list, I always had faith. Love will conquer all.”

“Now you’re sounding like a wedding singer.”

“Whatever.”

“The thing is, now Lucy’s coming, I really don’t want Ange to. It might be a bit… awkward.”

“Ah.”

“Yes,
ah
. So I was wondering. Is there any way you can un-invite Ange?”

I paused, letting my request sink in. I knew in the friend stakes I would win this one but I also knew I was putting Julia in a very awkward situation.

“Is that a yes then?” I said.

She sighed. “I’ll add it to my ever-growing list of things to do. Un-invite work colleague because best mate shagged her and is bringing new girlfriend.”

“You’re a star.”

“I know.”

“And before you say it, I know it’s an imposition and I’m sorry.”

 I heard someone saying something to her in the background at the other end of the line and knew our time was up.

“You have to go?”

“Hang on,” she said, covering the phone so that the voices were muffled. I studied my nails, noting they weren’t quite as horrendously bitten as normal and silently congratulated myself.

“Yes, turns out I do,” Julia said, coming back on the line.

“No worries. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Just the cake – and give my love to Kate and Vicky.”

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

 

Kate didn’t look like she’d been in a car accident. Rather, it looked like she’d been in a fight that she’d lost badly, her face showing cuts and bruises. Her right arm was also in a cast and she was clearly in a world of pain with her ribs. When she sneezed she creased her face up so much I thought she might stay etched like that. She told me she was on pain-relieving tablets but that she’d had to ask for a significantly higher dose as they hadn’t even touched the sides.

“So I ended up getting ones that are five times the dosage of the over-the-counter ones,” she said. “Now when I move, I can still feel my cracked ribs wriggling about inside me but at least they’re not stabbing me with every breath. The nurse warned me about taking too many of them but I spoke to my mate Bruce who’s a doctor and he told me to take as many as necessary – they just say that to scare you. Who knew?”

Kate was clearly triumphant she’d got one over the medical profession. She was stoic about the accident though, just glad Vicky was okay and they were both still alive.

“Never did get my promised steak and red wine. The things Vicky will do to get out of paying,” she said.

I drank my tea while Kate told me her mum had promised to cook up all her childhood favourites over the coming week. She also confessed she must be feeling a little woozy as she was still quite enjoying being taken care of and being at home.

“I’d normally be climbing the walls by now,” she said.

“Clearly what being in a near-death experience does to you,” I said. “Give it a week though and you’ll be pining for me.”

***

I could see she was in good hands and so left her watching
Columbo
after a while, kissing Maureen goodbye and going to visit her other daughter.

Vicky was in bed asleep when I got there so I sat with my brother in the garden while the boys chased each other around in a tiny toy car and a mini fire engine. I was transfixed and Jack saw me watching.

“Don’t you wish we’d had those in our childhood?”

“You read my mind,” I said. “Is it terrible to be a jealous aunty?”

“Natural I think.” He got up from his chair. “I’ll go and put some coffee on shall I?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

“Look at me, Aunty Jess!” shouted Luke. He drove by on his emergency vehicle.

“That’s a fab truck you’ve got!” I said.

“Mummy and daddy bought it for me.”

“Aren’t you a lucky boy.”

He pedalled by, not listening but making a siren noise as he rushed to his next emergency. I wondered if he would actually become a firefighter in his future – if he did, he’d have no end of boys and girls chasing him.

My phone beeped in my bag, so I fished it out – it was a text from Lucy asking when I’d be back as she’d finished work. I told her to come by my place at 6pm and we’d work stuff out from there. It was 2pm now so I figured another hour here and my familial duties were done. Jack appeared with coffee just as I’d finished texting.

“Lucy?” he said, putting the drinks on the table. I nodded.

“It was good of her to come and get you last night.”

“Yeah it was. Did you get hold of mum and dad by the way?”

He nodded. “Eventually, they’d been out at a hoe-down or something.”

“A what-down?”

“This is what people do in their dotage it seems,” he said. “They were round this morning to see Vicky and they’re coming to take the boys to the circus in a bit.”

“Do they know that dad’ll be more excited than them?”

“They will do in an hour,” he said. “So at least we get a little time if Vicky’s awake. And if she’s not, I get a couple of hours of peace. It’s a win-win.”

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

 

I got home around 3.30pm and nearly called out Kate’s name until I realised she wasn’t home. I got to work tidying the place up, straightening piles of magazines, plumping cushions, hoovering, dusting, changing bed sheets. Then I flung myself in the shower and buffed myself to a shine. By the time 6pm rolled around I felt like a new woman – lucky, as she was turning up any second now.

Lucy appeared ten minutes later on my doorstep looking just as polished and positively edible. Her short dark hair was slicked back and she wore jeans, a green T-shirt and black leather jacket. She was a soft butch at times and it made me swoon – I’d always had a penchant for them but had never even kissed one until now.

I kissed her lips almost as soon as she appeared, going with my gut rather than reason. She didn’t seem offended, smiling and then asking if she could come in. I was embarrassed when I realised she was still on the doorstep.

“Only I know how this can go and last time I didn’t even get up the stairs before you had your hand in my pants,” she said.

“Of course, of course,” I said, making way for her to get past me. This time, I was determined to be more chivalrous. We got to the kitchen and I got two cold Peronis from the fridge, opened them and we went through to the lounge, Lucy taking my hand as we did.

“So,” she began, sitting down on the leather couch. I was delighted to see the cushions still retained their plumpness.

“So,” I said.

“Here we are again.”

“Seems so.”

“So what do you fancy doing tonight?” she said. “And before you answer, I think it should involve leaving the house.” She smirked and took a swig of her beer.

I shrugged. “There go all my ideas then.”

She leaned in and kissed me. It was a long, slow, lingering kiss. It felt safe, warm and it spoke of reconnecting. I was very happy to be reconnecting with Lucy as I opened my eyes.

“I was thinking a gig,” she said.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “A gig. Novel.”

“You’ve been to gigs before right?” she said, a smile playing on her lips.

“A few.”

“Well there’s a band playing in Camden that I really like and there’s a restaurant opposite that’s good – sound okay?”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this,” I said.

“Well, I’ve had all afternoon and I thought you might be a little preoccupied. And it’s a good job you said yes because I’ve got the tickets.” She reached into her pocket and pulled them out. “Ta-da!” she said.

“It’s definitely a go then,” I replied.

***

Half an hour later we were on the tube, sitting sideways watching brick walls whizz by through murky windows. Emerging out onto Camden’s damp, grizzly streets, Lucy took my hand and led me through the maze of drug dealers, Saturday night police and the myriad of people waiting to meet their mates at Camden tube.

She took me to a US-style burger joint that was new and eager to please and we ordered burgers which came loaded with toppings, crisp fries and home-made mayonnaise. The waitresses were far too efficient to be working in Camden and the beers came in chilled glasses – it was just what the doctor ordered. I congratulated Lucy on her choice of pre-gig food and promised that I still owed her a fancy dinner, to which she smiled broadly.

Neither of us could finish the food but we both left full and happy and strolled up the road to the gig venue as if we’d been together for ages. Her warm hand in mine made me feel invincible.

The band were sound-checking as we walked in and a piercing guitar twang bounced around the venue, making me wince. I put my finger in my right ear and frowned.

“Can’t they do that earlier?” I said. Lucy just laughed.

“Come on old lady, let’s get you a drink.”

I followed her to the bar, my feet squelching through a thin layer of lager already coating the red vinyl flooring. She was amazingly quick at the bar once again – I made a note to ask for her tricks – and we walked over to the side of the stage with pints of lager in plastic glasses. Gig glamour at its finest.

When the band eventually began they turned out to be purveyors of jangly indie-pop, replete with fiddles and tambourines as seemed to be the trend these days. Lucy stood behind me and put her arm around my waist as they launched into a full-throttle number, kissing the back of my head as I settled into her embrace. I felt like I was flying.

When the gig finished we had another beer before I suggested Lucy came home with me. She shook her head and my stomach fell.

“I think it’s about time you came home with me, don’t you?” she said. I grinned.

We kissed as we left the venue, giving the doorman a cheap thrill. Then Lucy hailed a black cab and we sped off into the night.

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

 

The next morning was a white-cloud day. In Australia, white cloud doesn’t exist as a weather description but in the UK it was a particular favourite. When I woke up I wasn’t sure where I was, the surroundings unfamiliar to me. But I soon acclimatised when I turned over and saw Lucy lying beside me still sleeping, her dark hair tousled from sleep and her face creased with red lines from where she’d ground herself into her pillow. Her bedroom was more opulent than I’d anticipated, with cushions, a shiny bedspread and expensive-looking curtains hanging at the windows.

Lucy’s flat was the top floor of a large stone house that contained four other apartments. Her front door opened into a spacious hallway, off which were two bedrooms and a bathroom. From the hallway a small staircase led up to the top level which contained a spacious living room, plush kitchen with a skylight sucking in the light and a small balcony high up in the sky overlooking lush green gardens.

To say I was impressed would be an understatement. Lucy’s descriptions of her flat previously had been ‘small, two-bed, okay for now’. The reality was she had something of an eye for interiors and rather than being a pokey bolt-hole, this was a bright and airy two-bed flat with stairs. In London, stairs were a talking point.

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