Lucy in the Sky

already had a drinking problem and there’s you encouraging it.’
    ‘Yeah, it probably wasn’t very smart, was it?’ he relented. ‘But I wasn’t really thinking.’
    What a load of bullshit. There is no way he gave away my chocolate cherries to a tramp. I bet the bitch he’s been shagging scoffed them.
    I get back to my seat feeling nauseous, and the smell of the greasy food on the trolley coming through the cabin doesn’t help. I won’t be eating anything. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat chocolate cherry liqueurs again, either.
    Which is just brilliant.
    Who the hell is this slag? Someone he works with? A memory suddenly comes back to me of James’s office Christmas party a couple of months ago. He left me chatting to one of the firm’s secretaries as he went to get us something to drink. Ten minutes later he still hadn’t returned so I set off to find him. He was standing by the bar talking a little too intimately, I thought at the time, to a tall, slim brunette. Their body language was close, and I remember feeling a white stab of jealousy. But when he glanced up and saw me he didn’t look guilty. ‘Lucy, there you are! I was just talking to, er, Zoe here.’
    Later, when I asked him about her, he told me he was embarrassed because he almost hadn’t remembered her name. She was new, he said, and didn’t have many friends. He thought she seemed nice, but she wasn’t his type. I asked, of course. I always ask.
    I feel a shift in the atmosphere and look at the digital flight chart: only twenty-five minutes to go. A wave of nerves soars through me, followed by a quick throb of nausea. Seconds later the captain makes the announcement about landing. I fasten my seat belt, stow away my tray table and put my seat in the upright position. As other passengers switch off their electronic equipment, I clutch my mobile phone tightly–Singapore International Airport terminal is only minutes away…
    Singapore
    Singapore International Airport
    Stopover time: 2 hrs 10 mins
    My phone is in my hand as I walk through the gate towards the airport terminal. I can see that it’s busy up ahead so I do a U-turn and push back through the throng towards the emptying gate. Then I’m dialling his number and it’s ringing, ringing, ringing…
    Voicemail.
    I don’t believe this! I’ve waited thirteen bloody hours to make this call. It’s just after ten in the morning in England–where the hell is he? I’m not sure I want to know. I press cancel and try again, but then the sickness in the pit of my stomach engulfs me and I slump down into a seat and bury my head in my hands.
    ‘I wish I could come with you. I’m going to miss you so much,’ he murmurs into my hair as he holds me tight.
    ‘I wish you could come too.’
    ‘No Aussie blokes are allowed within a foot of my beautiful girlfriend. I’m issuing them all with a restraining order!’
    ‘As if, you nutter.’
    ‘I love you, Lucy. Call me as soon as you get there. And call me tonight before you board the plane.’
    ‘I will do. I love you too.’
    He kisses me tenderly, then opens the door before pausing and looking down at my suitcase.
    ‘Baby, how are you going to manage that? Are you sure you’ll be alright?’ he asks anxiously.
    I tell him that I’d planned to go to work as usual in Soho, then come back here later this afternoon to collect my suitcase and catch a cab to Paddington. I’m taking the Express to the airport.
    ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he says, coming back inside and closing the door. ‘Why don’t you catch a cab to work and take your suitcase with you, then taxi it to Paddington later? That way I can carry it down the stairs for you now.’
    ‘Oh, James, it’s too expensive. Honestly, I’ll be fine.’
    ‘No, it’s not. I’ll pay, don’t worry about that. Come on, are you ready?’
    I waver, as he looks at me with concern. I haven’t tidied up the flat after my panic packing but I don’t suppose that matters.
    ‘Well … okay.’ I smile at him gratefully. ‘Thank you.’
    His face lights up as he takes my suitcase and leads me down the stairs.
    I press redial.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘James!’
    ‘Lucy! Hey, where are you?’ he asks me warmly.
    ‘Where were you? I’ve been trying to call!’
    ‘I was in the shower.’ He sounds confused at the angst in my voice.
    ‘With her?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    Suddenly rage swells up inside me.
    ‘Were you in the shower with the bloody BITCH you were SCREWING last