Lucy in the Sky

it’s good for you, but you’ve only just come back. I don’t want you to go away again.’
    ‘James,’ I reproach gently, ‘it’s only for a weekend.’
    ‘I know,’ he says. ‘Just make sure that Gianluca twat keeps his hands off.’
    ‘He’s hardly going to go after me , is he?’ I laugh.
    ‘Bloody better not, or I’ll ’ave him,’ he responds good-naturedly.
    Gianluca is rumoured to be a ladies’ man–even though he’s been married to Eliza for six years–but I’m quite sure I’ll be safe.
    ‘The other thing I need to talk to you about is Easter,’ I press on.
    ‘Right…’
    ‘It’s just that I know I said I’d come back to your parents’ house, but I’m really missing Mum,’ I add. ‘After the visit back to Sydney, I kind of need to be with her right now. Does that make any sense?’
    He nods but he’s evidently disappointed.
    ‘Would you come with me?’ I ask hesitantly.
    ‘I can’t. You know I promised Mum I’d go and have Easter Sunday at home with Gran. She’s getting old and it might be her last ever Easter. It’d mean a lot to them if I was there.’
    ‘Okay, I understand.’ There’s not really a lot I can say about that. ‘I promise I’ll come home with you at Christmas, though,’ I offer.
    ‘That’d be great.’ He leans down and kisses me on my forehead.
    I do wish he’d come with me–he hasn’t been to Somerset for ages–but it will be good to spend a few days with my family. I have a sudden craving for a pint of bright orange cider at our local pub. And a cream tea! Mmm. I’d better go for another walk tomorrow.
    The next morning the home phone starts ringing at half past seven.
    ‘Who the hell is that?’ James moans.
    ‘I’ll get it.’ I jump out of bed and take the ear-piercingly loud phone through to the living room before answering it.
    ‘Hello?’ I say groggily.
    ‘Shit! What time is it?’ Molly’s voice comes shouting down the line.
    ‘Seven thirty.’ I laugh.
    ‘Oh, bloody hell. Sam, it’s seven thirty!’ she yells down the earpiece.
    ‘Ow!’
    ‘Whoops, sorry, Lucy.’
    ‘Anyway, how are you?’ I ask.
    ‘We’re brilliant! Thank you soooo much for the flowers! That’s why I was calling. It was so thoughtful of you.’
    She fills me in on their trip to Bali. Five minutes later: ‘Then this great big bloody elephant stepped backwards and we were like, whoa!’
    I laugh at her story, thinking of Nathan. I wonder if elephants will always remind me of him.
    ‘So how about you? What’s it been like being back there?’
    ‘Not too bad.’
    ‘Work okay?’
    ‘Yeah, work’s good actually.’ I tell her about the Luigis. She doesn’t keep up with European football and didn’t even bother to watch Australia in the recent World Cup so she has no idea who I’m talking about. ‘Tell Sam, he’ll know.’
    I want so badly to ask about Nathan but the words just won’t come.
    ‘How’s James?’ she enquires.
    ‘He’s good. Sleeping. Well, trying to.’
    ‘I’m sorry. I just can never remember the time over there.’
    ‘Don’t worry.’
    ‘You sound a little down, Lucy. How are things with James? Are you two okay?’
    ‘Pretty much,’ I tell her. ‘It’s been a bit weird coming back after having such a nice time with you guys. I felt quite heartbroken leaving, if I’m honest, but it’s not so bad now.’
    Eventually I give in to my urge. ‘How are Nathan and Amy?’ I ask, settling for a compromise.
    ‘They’re really good actually. They were over here earlier.’
    I can’t bear the thought of them together.
    ‘Were they? Are they back on again?’ I ask tentatively.
    ‘Who knows? They were here when your flowers arrived actually. They said to say hi.’
    ‘Did they?’ I feel pleased, even though she said ‘they’. I want to know more but I’m perfectly aware I shouldn’t be thinking about him at all. Anyway I assume he will have seen the card from ‘Lucy and James’.
    ‘Yeah. Oh, Nathan said to tell you something.’
    ‘Really?’ I hold my breath.
    ‘Damn, I can’t remember what it was.’
    I wait for her, willing her to remember.
    ‘Was it a joke?’ I ask.
    ‘Hey? Oh, no, I don’t think so. Sorry, it’s gone. I’m sure it wasn’t very exciting.’
    I’m so disappointed I can barely breathe.
    ‘Well, I guess I’d better go.’ She wraps it up. ‘We should talk more,’ she says, and I agree. We really don’t speak very often at all–once every few months if we’re