Lucy in the Sky

you little shit!’ I pant as I attempt a twirl before jumping to my right to repeat the routine.
    ‘I can’t…I can’t…I can’t… believe you’re going to do this around London,’ he manages to spit out, tears streaming down his face.
    ‘I’m glad you find it so funny,’ I snap, but I’m smiling really.
    My plan is to get the group to perform their novelty dance in front of iconic London landmarks on Monday and post the video on the infamous internet site YouTube the following day. The week after next, the single is released and the television and radio promotion will start, so this week I’m going to drag Titteesh around various magazine and newspaper offices and get them to teach willing journalists the dance. Well, when I say I , I mean we . I’m buggered if I’m going to let Chloe and Gemma get off lightly.
    By Saturday morning, though, I’m starting to feel panicky. Titteesh are arriving on Monday and I still haven’t properly sourced the locations where we’re going to shoot the video. I tell James of my concerns as he’s buttering toast in the kitchen.
    ‘Well, you’ll just do Trafalgar Square, Downing Street, Piccadilly Circus, that sort of thing, won’t you?’ he suggests.
    ‘Yeah, but I’m not sure where to go first or if you can even film in those locations.’
    ‘Just wing it, Lucy. You’ll be fine.’
    But I’m still worried.
    ‘How about we go and check out some locations today? Would that put your mind at rest?’
    ‘Would you do that with me?’ I ask him hopefully.
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Ah, that’s so sweet! Thank you!’
    I realise as we’re walking out of the door that I haven’t called Nathan yet and I was supposed to do that today. I peer down at my watch. It’ll be too late to call him when we get back. I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. For once, work has to come first.
    The next day is Sunday and James is watching Wimbledon.
    ‘I’m just going to make a phone call,’ I tell him, wandering through to the bedroom.
    ‘You’re not ringing that bloke again, are you?’ he asks.
    ‘Nathan? Yes.’
    ‘Lucy, you speak to him more than me…’
    ‘James, I do not,’ I respond calmly. ‘If you want to switch the tennis off we could go and do something instead?’ I know full well that he won’t. Yesterday’s location sourcing took a lot longer than we thought and we were both shattered by the end of it. Missing one full day’s tennis was hard enough for James.
    ‘Forget it,’ he grumbles, turning back to the match.
    Nathan answers on the second ring.
    ‘And there’s me thinking it was all over,’ he sighs.
    ‘You said I had a week!’
    ‘It’s been eight days, Lucy, I was going out of my mind.’
    Is he flirting with me?
    ‘What have you got for me? I hope it’s a good one…’ he says.
    ‘You tell me. Two goldfish in a tank. One says to the other, “Are you driving this thing or am I?’”
    ‘That sucks.’ I can hear him trying not to laugh. ‘That’s just not funny. I’m afraid we might have to call it a day.’
    ‘Wait! I have another one.’ In between all the ‘Mockah Chockah’ madness this week I’ve still managed to pester peoplefor jokes I haven’t heard before. A guy from accounts and one of the receptionists came up trumps.
    ‘This one will get you. Right, a duck walks into a bar and asks, “Got any bread?” And the barman replies, “No.” And the duck asks again, “Got any bread?” And again the barman says, “No!” “Got any bread?” “I said, no! N. O. NO!” “Got any bread?” “Oh, for crying out loud…N-O spells NO and I mean NO!” “Got any bread?” “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” “Got any bread?” “Look, if you ask me one more time if I’ve got any bread, I’m going to nail your fucking beak to the fucking bar! WE HAVE NO BREAD!” “Got any nails?” “No!” “Got any bread?’”
    Nathan laughs. ‘Okay, you got me. Consider us back on. So,’ he says, ‘when are you coming back to Australia to see me?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ I smile, collapsing back onto the bed. I’m pleased that he said ‘me’ and not ‘us’.
    ‘Because I’m not really into long-distance relationships,’ he continues.
    He is definitely flirting with me.
    ‘Well, you might just have to come and see me…’
    ‘Alright, then.’
    ‘When?’ I grin. As if !
    ‘How does the end of September grab you?’
    I sit bolt upright.
    ‘Are you joking?’
    ‘No,’ he says.
    ‘You’re serious?’ I’m