Lucy in the Sky

you’ve got a key, missy.’
    Shit, a key! Where is it?
    ‘Um…’
    ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Lucy.’ She laughs.
    ‘I’m sure I must do. It should be in my handbag. Let me check.’
    She leaves in a fake huff and I get up, S-L-O-W-L-Y, so as not to do any more damage to my hammer-head.
    I pause for a moment, listening. I can’t hear the boys. I’m sure Nathan won’t be here, but I’m buggered if I’m going to risk it. I pull open the cupboard door and eye my reflection. Good job, Lucy, I think sarcastically as I spot my panda bear right eye next to my clean left eye. Didn’t quite pull that off, then, when I attempted to remove my make-up last night.
    I search my handbag for a key, without any luck, and drag on my jeans and a T-shirt. I try to ignore the attractive bruises on my legs, courtesy of those inconvenient stairs last night. I attempt to smooth down my hair, then pad barefoot down the corridor in the direction of the bathroom and my make-up remover. Nathan’s bedroom door opens suddenly and I reel backwards in surprise. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol and sleep wafts out of the room.
    ‘Morning,’ he says groggily.
    ‘Hello!’ I reply a little too brightly and start to hurry past him, resisting the urge to cover up my right eye with my hand.
    ‘Have you been in a fight ?’ he asks.
    ‘No, no, just a make-up incident.’
    ‘A what?’
    ‘I’ll be with you in a minute!’ I nip into the bathroom.
    Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s here! My stomach backflips in quick succession like an Olympic gymnast on a bench. Quickly I brush my teeth, while at the same time doing a rush job on my right eye.
    Sam, Molly and Nathan are in the kitchen when I reemerge, Nathan studying the handcuff attached to Molly’s right arm.
    ‘No key?’ he asks. I shake my head remorsefully. ‘One of those little hairclips should do it,’ he tells me.
    Two minutes later, there’s a click and Molly is set free. ‘Yay!’ we all yell.
    ‘You’re pretty nifty, mate. Where did you learn to do that?’ Sam turns to his brother suspiciously.
    ‘Read about it in The Famous Five ,’ is his dry response.
    Nathan, I notice, is still wearing the same outfit he had on last night. He looks rough.
    Phwoar.
    ‘Did you have a good night?’ I ask him, when Molly and Sam have gone back up to their bedroom.
    ‘Yeah.’ He scratches the stubble on his jaw.
    ‘How was the bungee jumping?’
    ‘A massive rush.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Yeah. You should try it sometime.’
    ‘No, thanks. Knowing my luck, the cord would probably break. What did you get up to afterwards?’
    He chuckles and shakes his head. ‘That’s classified information, I’m afraid.’
    ‘What goes on stag night, stays on stag night?’ I raise an eyebrow.
    ‘Exactly.’ He smirks.
    ‘I hope you didn’t take your brother to a strip joint…’
    ‘I’m not saying anything .’ He grins, then stretches his arms above his head and yawns loudly. His T-shirt rides up andshows his tanned abdomen, dark hairs creeping from his navel downwards…I do an involuntary shake of my head to bring myself back to my senses.
    We’ve decided to go out for breakfast at a café in Manly. Nathan pulls up a chair opposite me and picks up a menu.
    ‘That blonde last night was into you,’ Sam says to him, after a moment. The nausea I instantly feel has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol I consumed last night.
    ‘What blonde?’ Molly pries.
    Nathan doesn’t answer.
    ‘Ah, a pretty little thing who wouldn’t leave him alone. You were on fire last night, mate!’
    Nathan rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
    ‘Poor Amy,’ Molly says.
    Poor Lucy, I think dismally, and try to focus on the menu. When I look back up at him he’s staring at me. I can’t read his expression.
    ‘I’m going to go for bacon and eggs,’ Molly decides out loud.
    ‘That sounds good; make that two,’ Sam adds. Nathan opts for an omelette and toast.
    Molly and I head off to the counter to place our orders. In the end I choose pancakes and maple syrup. I need stodge and I need sugar, I decide, knowing full well that what my body actually needs is a nice banana or something. Bollocks to that. Back at the table I notice Nathan is drawing patterns in salt grains that he’s poured onto the wooden surface. I lean over, take a pinch and superstitiously throw the salt back over my left shoulder.
    ‘Oi!’ he says. ‘You’ve ruined my design.’
    ‘Your design.’ Sam sniggers. ‘What