Lucy in the Sky

don’t you want to know what Henry the VIII and Kermit the Frog have in common?’ he asks, looking at me sideways.
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘Same middle name.’
    After a while we wander through the park to the other side and down the hill to his house.
    ‘Do you have to get back?’ he asks. ‘Or will you come in for a cuppa?’
    ‘No, I can come in,’ I reply. We still haven’t mentioned James.
    The house is silent; the antipodeans must’ve had one hell of a night. We hunt out the kettle, milk and teabags in the kitchen, but can’t find any clean mugs so I wash up a couple in the crowded sink. The kitchen is a complete tip, every available surface overflowing with dirty dishes and food crumbs. I feel bad that I didn’t think to take Nathan to the supermarket in Highgate so he could stock up on a few necessities. I’m feeling protective of him, here on the other side of the world. I want to look after him.
    I also want to run him a nice hot bath and strip him naked but, hmm, maybe we should stick to grocery shopping.
    ‘I still make tea your way, you know,’ I say, trying to stamp out the dirty thoughts zooming round my head.
    ‘Ah, good, another convert.’ He smiles. I wonder who else he’s converted.
    ‘How’s Amy?’ I ask and immediately want to kick myself.
    ‘She’s fine, last I heard,’ he answers. ‘I think she might have a boyfriend.’
    ‘That’s good. So, you…Do you…’ Stop it, Lucy! Don’t ask if he’s got a new girlfriend!
    ‘Nah.’ He grins, and I feel my face heating up. I should have gone with my instincts.
    We take a look at the living room, but it’s such a mess that we go back up to his room.
    ‘You haven’t had a cigarette since you’ve arrived?’ I look back at him as he follows me up the stairs.
    ‘Trying to give up.’
    ‘ Really? How long’s it been?’
    ‘Only a few weeks, so I might still relapse,’ he says. ‘Especially if this lot are heavy smokers.’
    ‘Be strong!’ I tell him in a faux American accent as we go into his room and close the door.
    ‘When are you going to unpack?’ I ask, sitting at the end of his bed.
    His flatmates have made it up, not too neatly, with orange and yellow checked sheets.
    ‘Later.’ He lazes back into the corner, leaning up against the wall. It reminds me of being in his bedroom in Manly and I shiver as I recall the fantasy that I created on the plane journey to London.
    ‘What time have you got to get back?’ he asks me.
    I check my watch: it’s 10.30. ‘I’m not in any hurry,’ I lie. ‘Although I’m pretty shattered. I only had about two hours’ sleep last night.’
    ‘So excited about seeing me.’ He grins, and I smile back but don’t answer. He puts his empty mug on his bedside table and props up the pillows, sliding down further on the bed. He looks exhausted.
    ‘I should let you sleep,’ I say.
    ‘Don’t go yet.’ He holds his right hand out to me, sleepily. Itake it, then, not knowing what overcomes me, I lean back against him, so his arm wraps around me from behind. He murmurs into my hair and pulls me in tighter. After a while, his breathing begins to slow and he falls asleep, and not long afterwards I do the same.
     
    My beeping mobile phone wakes me. I climb up, away from sleeping Nathan and rummage around in my bag for my phone. Shit! It’s 2 p.m.! James is asking where I am. I text him back hurriedly, telling him I’m on my way home and turn back to look at Nathan.
    Using the back of the Café Rouge receipt, I scribble him a note to say I’ll call him later, signing it, Love, Lucy xxx. I feel like a teenager writing Christmas cards, choosing between ‘From’, ‘Lots of love’, and the most telling of them all, ‘Love’ alone.
    Nathan is still sleeping peacefully, messy hair falling across his eyes. I gently push it off his face and then kiss him softly on the cheek. My heart is so full of him and for a moment everything that I felt for him in Sydney comes back in force. Sorry, Mum, but this is not just a crush.
    My phone beeps again, snapping me out of it, and Nathan stirs, rolling over onto his back. I step quietly out of his room and close the door behind me.
    Back downstairs I can hear the television on in the living room and I consider sneaking past without saying hello, but realise that would be rude. I pop my head around the door to see Ally, a grungy dark-haired guy in his early twenties and another girl, a spiky-haired brunette with multiple earrings in her ears. She