Lucy in the Sky

and I barely know his wife, Susannah.
    ‘Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing Reena and Karen. I haven’t seen them for months.’
    ‘They don’t want me to go, do they?’ he asks.
    ‘No, I think it’s more of a girl thing.’
    ‘Thank God for that. I’ll go to Henley alone, then.’
    ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I ask. He’s been in a bad mood all week.
    ‘Nothing’s wrong with me,’ he retorts.
    ‘Why don’t you talk to me about it?’
    ‘Because there’s nothing to talk about.’ Then his voice softens. ‘It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I’m just having a shit week at work and my dad is still going on about this criminal law training and all this other crap.’
    ‘You’ve got to tell him no!’ I insist.
    ‘It’s not that easy. You know my dad, for fuck’s sake, when have you ever heard anyone tell him no?’ James sighs and turns back to the telly. ‘Sorry, I just want to switch off, if that’s okay.’
    I leave him to it, going back through to the bedroom. It’s at times like this I crave listening to Nathan’s tape. I’ve taken it out a few times in the last six or seven weeks, just to look at his messy handwriting. I’ve resisted listening to it, but every time one of hissongs comes on the radio or on the TV, I retreat into myself. I can’t help it.
     
    One Friday evening in mid May, on my way back in from work, I empty our post box in the communal hallway and recognise Molly’s curvy handwriting on a package. James isn’t back yet when I get upstairs and I’m grateful for the peace and quiet while I see what Molly’s sent me. I rip open the envelope and pull out some photographs, along with a letter. They’re wedding pictures.
    The first is of Molly, Andie and me standing under the big gum tree in our white and silver dresses. The next one is of Sam and Molly, clinking champagne glasses with a view of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge behind them. They’re laughing as they look at each other. The third and final picture is one of the wedding party: Molly, Sam, Andie, Nathan and me. I sink down onto the sofa.
    He looks gorgeous, dark hair falling messily, just below his chin. He hasn’t loosened his tie yet in this picture. I peer closely at it. At him. At last I have a picture of Nathan–something to have and to hold. I look down at his image and feel a dull ache inside. I miss him so much.
    I pick up Molly’s letter and begin to read.
    Hi you!
    I thought you might appreciate some wedding pics. Sorry it’s taken so long; I just haven’t been able to get my arse into gear since the honeymoon.
    I am LOVING being married! It’s strange–it’s the same as it always was but subtly different. We know we’re in thistogether now, for life. It does change things a little. Sorry if that sounds a bit pretentious, but it’s weird.
    Sam’s work is going well …
    I scan the letter, looking for Nathan’s name. Ah, there it is.
    Nathan and Amy have well and truly called it quits …
    What?
    She was putting pressure on him and he was having none of it so he had to move out. It was all a bit of a drama, actually. He came and stayed with us for a while but she kept calling, day and night, and turning up on the doorstep unannounced. Eventually she realised she had to let him go. After all this, we’re not so sure she was right for him anyway. You know what Nathan’s like. Doesn’t want to make a fuss of things. Now he’s put an offer in on a run-down little place a few minutes from the beach. We remortgaged the house to help him with his deposit, but the B&B business has been doing brilliantly so it’s all good. Anyway it was about time he saw some of his parents’ inheritance. Sam’s just thrilled he’s using it wisely. The place he’s bought is in a bit of a state but he reckons he can do it up on the weekends. Oh, because that’s the other thing–he’s even got himself a full-time job on a building site!
    I put the letter down. Stunned is not the word. I read the rest of it but that’s pretty much the gist of it. Nathan gets a big chunk so Molly really must be consumed by what’s going on with him.
    He’s got a job? Set Amy straight? Bought himself a place of his own? Surely that’s too much of a coincidence after all this time. Does it have anything to do with me, I wonder meekly. On the one hand I can’t believe it would but, on the other, it is possible. I suddenly have an urgent desire to call Molly and talk to her about it. Not about my feelings for