Lucy in the Sky

at Sam, who nods his approval.
    ‘I might be able to get you some.’
    ‘There’s your birthday present sewn up, Mol.’ Sam smiles.
    ‘Actually, that’s the only infuriating thing about this job,’ I say. ‘It makes finding Christmas and birthday presents for people a nightmare. You almost have to give them a receipt to prove you bought it.’
    ‘Oh, our hearts bleed!’ Molly laughs.
    Nathan stubs out his cigarette; the hairs on his arms have been highlighted by the sun, even though he’s naturally dark. He picks up the ashtray and places it at the other end of the porch, away from the table.
    ‘What about you, Nathan? What do you do now?’
    ‘Oh, this and that,’ he replies, as he sits back down.
    ‘Nathan doesn’t really work,’ Sam explains.
    ‘He’s too busy surfing.’ Molly laughs fondly.
    ‘I do enough to get by.’ Nathan leans back in his chair and puts one tanned foot up on the opposite knee. He’s not wearing any shoes and I imagine that if he were, his choice of footwear wouldn’t extend further than flip-flops–or thongs, as they call them here.
    ‘What’s the time?’ he asks.
    ‘Eight o’clock,’ Molly and I answer simultaneously.
    ‘I should probably be getting off.’
    No! Don’t leave!
    ‘Why don’t you stay for something to eat?’ Molly asks.
    Yes! Stay!
    ‘Yeah, go on, mate, we’ll just order in a pizza or something,’ his brother says.
    Nathan seems to be wavering.
    ‘Go on,’ I bravely encourage. ‘You can keep me company around these two lovebirds,’ I add lamely.
    ‘Oh, alright, then.’ He grins. He has the most lovely smile.
    Pizza, a few beers and a couple of glasses of rosé later, the sun sets and the mosquitoes zoom around more fervently so we move inside. Nathan looks out of the front window down to his beat-up car.
    ‘You can’t drive home now,’ Molly says. ‘Crash here and get up early in the morning. Are you surfing tomorrow?’
    ‘I was going to.’ He seems undecided and my stomach flips.
    ‘Do you want to borrow the phone and call Amy?’
    Now my stomach flops. Who’s Amy? I don’t need to ask out loud because Molly turns to me and explains. ‘Amy’s his girlfriend.’
    ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Nathan protests.
    ‘Well, she should be! Honestly, Lucy, she’s beautiful. They live together and I swear they’re perfect for each other.’
    ‘Yep, you’re nuts, mate,’ Sam interjects. ‘You oughtta snap that one up before somebody else does.’
    ‘Mind your own business.’
    ‘He’s getting aggravated now.’ Sam laughs and ruffles Nathan’s hair.
    ‘Gettoff!’ Nathan waves his big brother’s hand away and grabs another beer from the fridge before heading back into the living room.
    ‘I guess that means he’s staying, then,’ Molly says.
    Nathan’s at the stereo when I walk into the room, flicking through Molly and Sam’s CDs.
    ‘Do you still play the guitar?’ I ask.
    ‘I do. I’m surprised you remember.’
    ‘How could I forget? All you ever seemed to do was lock yourself away in your room playing that thing. You were pretty good.’
    ‘Why thank you, miss.’ He glances at me, smiling.
    ‘What are you putting on?’ Molly comes into the room. ‘Can we have Kylie?’
    ‘No, we bloody can’t.’ Nathan rolls his eyes at me theatrically. ‘What do you want to listen to, Lucy?’
    ‘I don’t know if I dare say…’
    ‘Go on, we’ve got The Killers, The Dandy Warhols, Jet, Beck…’
    ‘No Mariah Carey?’ His head shoots up and he looks at me in alarm. I laugh. ‘I’m joking, you idiot–let’s have The Killers.’
    Molly and Sam go for the sofa and Nathan and I take a single-seater each. I slip off my shoes and curl my feet up underneath myself to get cosy.
    The pizza has done a good job of soaking up the booze so I feel nicely tipsy, but nothing like during the dreaded flight on Singapore Slings. I push that memory right out of my mind and concentrate on the present. It’s not difficult when you have the view I have.
    ‘So, Lucy,’ Sam says, ‘are things all sorted with James now?’ Nothing like a mention of your delightful boyfriend to bring you back to your senses. Nathan looks over at me but doesn’t say anything.
    ‘Um, I’m not entirely sure, to be honest.’
    Molly turns to Nathan. ‘Lucy had a bit of a rough journey over here. You don’t mind me telling him, do you, Lucy?’ I shake my head, and that recurring–if now much duller–feeling of nervousness wafts through