Pictures of Lily

Nicola on her return and we’d struggle to find each other. She’ll be back soon.
    But she’s not. Another couple of minutes pass. I sip my wine self-consciously and continue to people-watch. I’m not at all comfortable here. There’s a middle-aged woman dressed like a prostitute standing next to me, braying like a horse and talking fifteen to the dozen to a man half her age. The gallery is filled with people similar to them. And I don’t like it. I couldn’t stand being a part of this sort of crowd.
    What am I thinking, wanting to be a photographer?
    On impulse I pull out my mobile and check my texts. There’s nothing from Richard and I suddenly feel sad. I miss him. I wish I was at Nathan and Lucy’s right now.
    Where the hell is Nicola?
    I look up, irritated, and scan the room once more. I take a few steps away from my safe place and scan the second gallery up the stairs, searching for long blonde hair. I catch a glimpse of it, but unsure if it’s Nicola or not, don’t know if I should go and see. I hesitate for a moment as a fat bloke in a suit stumbles into me and glares at me rather than apologises. I storm up the stairs, feeling furious. That had better not be Nicola up there. If it is . . .
    It is! It bloody well is! And she’s talking to Pier Frank. What a cow! I halt on the spot for a split-second, then she sees me and looks so elated as she motions me over that my irritation evaporates a little by the time I reach her.
    ‘Sorry,’ she whispers urgently in my ear. ‘He grabbed me on my way out of the loo. I thought you’d come to find me!’
    ‘I did,’ I say through clenched teeth.
    ‘Can I introduce you to my friend, Lily?’ Nicola says smoothly and I plaster a smile on my face as Pier turns his attention to me.
    ‘Hi,’ he says wryly as he offers his hand. ‘Are you having a nice time?’
    ‘Yes, thanks.’
    ‘It seems I’ve fucked up again, then.’
    Several people around him laugh, but I’m failing to see what the joke is. I shift on my feet uncomfortably, but he is no longer paying any attention.
    ‘I’m going home,’ I say suddenly.
    ‘What? Why?’ Nicola looks horrified.
    ‘I blew out my boyfriend and his friends for this. I should be there with them.’
    ‘But we’ve only just met him!’
    ‘He’s a prick.’
    ‘Shhh! He’ll hear you.’
    ‘I don’t particularly care.’
    ‘He wasn’t really being mean, he just wants people to find his work disturbing.’
    I give her a look.
    ‘I know you’re already said that,’ she continues desperately. ‘Please don’t go yet.’
    My heart sinks. ‘Okay.’
    So I stand there, like the yellow citrus fruit again, while Nicola and Pier’s cronies hang onto his every word, until my drink runs dry and I excuse myself to get another. When I return unhappily after ten minutes of waiting for the staff to find fresh glasses, Nicola is beaming like a beacon.
    ‘He’s asked me to go for a few drinks.’
    ‘Really?’ I try to look excited for her. ‘Just the two of you?’
    ‘No, with this lot, too, but hey ho.’ She looks delighted. ‘Will you come?’
    ‘No, thanks. I’d better head home.’
    ‘Okay.’
    Not that I was invited, I imagine. I take a swig of my drink and put it down on a ledge and follow them out. Pier gets accosted by the braying prostitute so I take my leave.
    ‘See you tomorrow,’ Nicola whispers.
    ‘Use a condom,’ I whisper back and she cracks up laughing. I was joking! I hope she steers well clear of the moron.
    There are no speedy JetCats waiting when I arrive at the terminal, and the ferry seems to take forever, but I stand outside in the wind, staring at the city lights as we pull away from Circular Quay. It’s a surprisingly chilly evening – autumn is definitely on the verge of assaulting us – and even when it starts to rain, I don’t go inside. I wonder if it’s too late to pop by Nathan and Lucy’s? Will Richard have already left?
    I pull out my mobile and curse under my breath when I see that the battery has gone flat. Nathan and Lucy live only a short walk from the beach in Manly so I’ll go via their house on the off-chance.
    It’s raining heavily when I come out of the ferry terminal and I rummage around in my bag, hoping and praying I have my teeny-tiny super-light umbrella in there. Thank bollocks, I do! I set off at a brisk pace, not bothering to swap to flip-flops because there’s nothing worse than sloshing around wet-footed in rubber in the rain.
    Nathan and