Lucy in the Sky

  We both fall about laughing. Nathan collapses back onto the sand and I sneak a peek at his six-pack. A faded pink scar stretches jaggedly across his stomach, just below his ribs.

  ‘How did you get that?’ I ask.

  ‘Surfing. Hit some rocks,’ he replies, sitting back up.

  ‘Oh, nasty!’ I exclaim. ‘What if that had been your head?’

  ‘Sam would probably be an orphan right about now.’

  The thought makes me shudder.

  ‘I’m sorry about your parents,’ I say quietly.

  ‘Thank you. Me too.’ We sit side by side and gaze out towards the open ocean. ‘Sam won’t go in the water anymore.’

  ‘After the accident?’ I prompt, but I know that’s what he means.

  ‘Yeah. He’s fine on big boats, but anything smaller or swimming…He hates it. For a while there I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want to go surfing again. But I can’t imagine a life without it.’

  I glance up at him and the look on his face makes my heart want to break in two.

  ‘Molly and Sam miss you, you know,’ he says after a moment, looking across at me and brushing my fringe away from my forehead with his rough hand.

  ‘I miss them too.’

  ‘Have you ever thought about moving back here?’

  ‘Right now I can’t bear to think of ever leaving Australia again. I know that sounds dramatic, but my life in England seems so far away.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound dramatic.’

  I realise I’m shivering.

  ‘You’re cold; you should take this off,’ he says, and starts to unzip my wetsuit, before stopping abruptly and turning to look for a dry beach towel. I wriggle out of it down to my waist. He drapes the towel over my shoulders, and puts his arm around me, rubbing my cold arm vigorously with his hand. After a little while he stops and pulls me in tight to his warm body. We sit there for a few minutes longer watching the other surfers ride the waves. The way they keep their balance as their boards kick up and cut back down again reminds me of the skateboarders on the South Bank at home.

  Finally Nathan speaks again. ‘I guess we should get going. I promised a mate I’d help him on his house this morning. Do you fancy coming back to mine for some breakfast first?’

  We pick up our boards and walk back towards his car. Nathan straps his surfboard to the roof rack while I change fully out of the wetsuit and pull on my skirt and T-shirt. My bikini isn’t quite dry but it’ll do.

  He joins me in the front seat, looks down at me and smiles. ‘It’s good to see you again, Luce.’ Then he starts up the engine and pulls away.

  Chapter 4

  Nathan lives in an apartment block just around the corner from the beach. Wetsuits hang out on a few of the balconies. So this is where the surfers live.

  I follow him as we carry our boards and wetsuits over the prickly seaside grass to the main entrance. He lives on the top floor and bounds up the concrete stairs in front of me. I’ve no chance of keeping up but he waits at the top of the stairs in front of Number 7.

  His key is in the lock and then we’re inside. It’s dark, the curtains still drawn. It’s only about 8 a.m.–it appears Amy’s not up yet. As Nathan opens the curtains, morning light spills across the small living room, presenting seventies-style carpets and matching brown and orange swirly curtains. Anyone else would probably make excuses for the decor, but Nathan says nothing and his confidence makes him seem so much older than his twenty-three years. I look around the flat and see a corridor leading away to what I’m guessing are the bedrooms.

  ‘Can I see your room?’ I hear myself asking.

  ‘Sure.’ He leads the way past another door which is shut. I wonder if Amy is sleeping behind it. His door is ajar. ‘It’s a bit of a mess,’ he says and he’s not lying. Jeans, cords, T-shirts and hooded jumpers spill out of open wooden drawers; a guitar is propped up against the unmade double bed. Books and magazines pile up precariously on one side of a wooden dressing table and an old TV set stands on the other. A portable CD/cassette player is on the floor next to his bed. A pile of CDs and cassettes lies messily next to it. Apart from those few things, he doesn’t seem to have many other belongings.

  As if reading my mind, he explains, ‘I gave a lot of stuff away when I went travelling and it hasn’t seemed worth buying much else.’

  ‘When did you go travelling?’

  ‘I’ve been a few times. I came back from my last trip early last year.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been to Indonesia and Thailand in the past, and have also spent some time backpacking around Australia, but most recently I just spent some months working up the coast on a few building sites, surfing and doing a bit of fruit picking, that sort of thing.’

  I sit down on his unmade bed and pick up his guitar. ‘Do you play?’ he asks.

  ‘No, not me.’ But I give it a couple of strums anyway.

  ‘Stop, you’re shit.’ He laughs.

  ‘Go on, then; play me something.’

  He sits down next to me, taking the guitar and tucking one long, lean leg underneath him. His dark hair is still damp from the surf.

  ‘I’ll get my own place, one of these days,’ he says, resting his arm lazily across the guitar. He doesn’t play it.

  I pull my leg up underneath myself, mimicking his body language, and turn to face him.

  ‘But I still haven’t decided if or when I’ll go travelling again.’

  ‘Have you ever thought about coming to England?’ I ask hopefully.

  ‘Not really, but you never know.’

  ‘You should!’

  ‘Bit cold, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ I protest. ‘The summers can be beautiful. And in winter there’s nothing nicer than cosying up in front of a log fire with a pint. Well, actually I don’t drink beer,’ I correct myself. ‘But you know, red wine—’

  ‘Vodka…’ he interrupts, smiling.

  ‘Not anytime again soon, thank you. That hangover was a killer.’

  He grins.

  I can see now that many of the books next to the television are related to design and property.

  ‘Dad’s,’ he says, clocking my stare. ‘They’re the only things of his that I really wanted to keep.’

  ‘What happened to the boat?’ I ask and instantly regret it.

  ‘We sold it,’ he answers curtly.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean…I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ He smiles.

  ‘So what do you want to do? With your life, I mean.’ I hope I’m not pushing my luck with all these personal questions, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  ‘I don’t really know yet. Sam was always so sure about what he wanted to do. He always liked being outside in the garden with Mum. I think I probably take more after Dad.’

  ‘What, architecture?’

  ‘No, not architecture. I’ve left it too late for that.’

  ‘You’ve never left it too late.’

  ‘No, I have. It’s years and years of uni and I barely even finished high school.’

  Suddenly the door bursts open and a slim, blonde, mussyhaired beauty is standing there in a skimpy T-shirt-and-short set.

  ‘Hi!’ I say a little too enthusiastically and leap to my feet.

  Nathan calmly props his guitar against the bed and stands up. ‘Amy, meet Lucy. Lucy, meet Amy.’

  ‘Hi!’ she exclaims, matching me for enthusiasm. ‘I was wondering who was in here, chatting away.’

  ‘I was just going to make some breakfast,’ Nathan says. ‘Want some?’

  ‘Ooh, what are we having?’ she coos.

  ‘Depends. What do you fancy, Lucy?’ He leads the way into a small kitchen and opens the rusty, pockmarked fridge door. ‘Want a fry-up?’ he asks. ‘Or an omelette or something?’

  ‘An omelette would be nice.’ I realise I’m famished, having eaten hardly anything in my hung-over state the day before.

&
nbsp; ‘Omelette, hey?’ Amy chuckles. ‘Your speciality, Nathan.’ I don’t like the way she says ‘speciality’.

  ‘So do you want some or not?’ he asks her.

  ‘No, I can’t handle a stodgy meal at this hour. I’ll stick to fruit.’

  I’ll stick to fruit, I echo bitchily inside my head. I don’t know how I squeezed into her wetsuit. She seems to be having the same thought.

  ‘Wetsuit fit okay?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes, perfectly,’ I answer.

  ‘Good!’ She looks pleased. Or surprised. I can’t tell.

  ‘Orange juice?’ Nathan interrupts.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  This is very domesticated. I can’t see James doing the shopping while I’m away. It’ll be takeaway all the way. Mind you, Amy may well have stocked up the fridge. I wonder if those are her eggs he’s getting out. He cracks two into a chipped mug. Amy walks over to him and puts a hand on his back. It could be my imagination, but I swear I see him stiffen.

  She then makes herself comfortable next to me at the kitchen table and asks me all about my trip. How long I’m here, how long since I was last here…Meanwhile Nathan brings our omelettes to the table and I attempt to eat, while answering her many questions. Blimey, she’s an inquisitive little thing. A subtle shift seems to have taken place and I don’t like it. The closeness Nathan and I felt on the beach has gone. He doesn’t seem as relaxed with me, nor I around him.

  ‘Are you going to Molly’s hen night on Saturday?’ Amy asks finally.

  ‘I am. Are you?’

  ‘Of course!’

  I’m surprised. Why ‘of course’? I didn’t realise she and Molly knew each other that well.

  ‘I’m glad she decided to have her hen night this Saturday instead of next Friday. Fancy considering having your hen night on the night before your wedding,’ I say, shaking my head.

  ‘Oh, she would’ve been fine. She just wouldn’t have been able to drink much.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Nathan and I exclaim in unison before looking at each other and grinning, our familiarity temporarily restored.

  A flicker of annoyance crosses Amy’s face. ‘I don’t know why people need alcohol to have a good time.’ Nathan looks at me and subtly raises his eyes to the ceiling. ‘I don’t really drink,’ she explains. ‘Seeing Nathan wake up after a night on the town is enough to put me off. Urgh!’

  Seeing Nathan wake up. I wonder if she means seeing him from the other side of the same bed or just from the moment he walks out of his bedroom.

  She glances over at the kitchen clock. ‘It’s almost nine, Nathan. Weren’t you going to help Barry this morning?’

  ‘Shit, yes.’ He starts to clear the table.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do that later,’ Amy offers, before I have a chance even to get out of my seat. ‘Why don’t I drop Lucy back?’

  Oh, no.

  ‘No, no, it’s okay. I’ll take her now.’

  Thank you, Nathan!

  ‘Don’t be silly, I don’t mind,’ she persists.

  I do!

  ‘I have to go and see Molly anyway,’ she explains.

  ‘Is that okay?’ Nathan looks at me.

  ‘Of course,’ I brightly reply. As if I’m going to say anything else.

  ‘Go on, you, off you go,’ Amy tells him impatiently. Is she waiting for him to leave first?

  ‘Alright, Luce, I’ll see you later,’ he says.

  When?

  ‘Bye!’ I force myself to sound merry. ‘Thanks for, you know, taking me surfing and breakfast and everything…’

  ‘No worries.’ Nathan picks up his car keys from the counter and heads out of the front door. As soon as he’s gone, Amy tells me she’ll be back in a minute and she returns wearing a short denim miniskirt and black T-shirt with a white Rip Curl logo. Her long blonde hair floats down her back. ‘Right, then, let’s go. You ready?’

  Amy’s car is a blue hatchback, the back window crammed full of cuddly toys. As I slam the door shut a small sleeping bunny in a hammock swings back and hits me in the eye. Amy laughs. ‘Watch out for Snoozy!’

  I know from self-defence classes in high school that you shouldn’t have fluffy animals in your car because you could be targeted by rapists and murderers who think that you’re a young, defenceless woman. I tell her this, a touch condescendingly.

  She laughs derisively. ‘I don’t think there are too many of them around here. Anyway most of the time Nathan’s with me.’

  I manage to refrain from biting Snoozy’s ears off with my bare teeth and spitting them out of the window.

  ‘I like your earrings,’ she says suddenly.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Did you wear them to go surfing?’ she asks, eyes widening.

  ‘Er, yes,’ I admit. ‘I never take them off.’

  ‘Are they from your boyfriend?’ I nod. ‘You’re very, very lucky. I wish Nathan could afford to buy me diamond earrings.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry. They’re probably not even real.’

  ‘Oh, really? Why do you think that?’

  ‘I’m only joking.’ I laugh, but even to myself it sounds hollow. Why did I say that?

  ‘No, Nathan can’t afford expensive gifts. He has to use his imagination instead.’ I bet he does, I think, feeling slightly sick. ‘For my last birthday he took me for a picnic on Shelly beach…’ I don’t want to hear this. ‘It was so romantic. He packed everything himself.’ Shut up! ‘Yes, we ate lobster his mate had caught and drank sparkling wine. Not French champagne, of course, but it tastes the same to us.’ I know I shouldn’t be jealous because I have James, but the way she says ‘us’ makes me want to open the door and leap out of the moving vehicle. A minute later we pull up outside Sam and Molly’s home.

  ‘Amy,’ Sam calls out warmly as we walk through the door. ‘How are you?’ He gives her a peck on the cheek and I suddenly feel like an outsider. He turns to me. ‘Hi, you. Surfing, hey? That was a surprise. Molly and I could barely believe it when we woke up this morning and saw your note. When did you two arrange that little get-together?’

  ‘Oh, he promised he’d take her the other night when he got so drunk he could barely speak the next morning,’ Amy interrupts. She’s smiling but I detect a hardness behind her eyes. Or maybe I’m just imagining it.

  ‘Did you go too, Amy?’ Sam asks, oblivious to whatever may or may not be going on between her and me.

  ‘Oh, no, I find it too hard to get up these days.’

  ‘Need your beauty sleep?’ Sam chuckles. For the first time I notice he and Nathan have got the same laugh.

  Molly comes into the room. ‘Amy! Hello, love.’ Another peck on the cheek.

  ‘Hi, you! How’s it all going? Only another week to go…’ As Molly starts to fill her in on the latest wedding minutiae, Amy heads into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. ‘Tea, Lucy?’ I shake my head and make my excuses about needing a shower.

  I’m taken aback by how comfortably Amy fits into my friends’ home. Nathan seems adamant she isn’t his girlfriend but she’s sure acting like one. It’s odd.

  In the bathroom I catch sight of myself in the mirror and almost reel back in horror. In comparison to that pretty blonde thing out there, I look like a ’roo who’s been pulled out of the bush backwards. Again I’m struck by the thought that Nathan might just see me like a big sister. How humiliating. Then my heart flutters as I remember his eyes looking searchingly into mine. Hang on, he had his arm around me! He brushed my fringe away from my face! That’s quite an intimate thing to do, isn’t it? Not the way you’d behave towards a big sister.

  Is it?

  I don’t know. I really don’t know. I have a horrible feeling I might be making more out of this than there really is, just to take myself away from my own sorry situation. Huh, I knew I should have been a psychologist.

  The conversation I had with James last night comes back to me. I was very abrupt. I wonder what it is he’s bought me. I should call him, I think miserably.

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sp; I’m not at all thrilled that Amy, let alone Nathan, saw me looking in such a state so I’m determined to scrub up nicely and get back out to the kitchen and chat to her. I’m ashamed about feeling bitchy towards her earlier. I wash and blow-dry my hair quickly and smooth on some hair serum. My hair is naturally wavy and thankfully it doesn’t often frizz up, but the serum is my insurance policy against the sea air. I put on some of the Laura Mercier tinted moisturiser that Mum got me for Christmas, then apply lipgloss and a little mascara. Wrapping my towel back around me I duck outside and make a dash for my bedroom.

  It looks like it’s going to be another scorcher so I pull on a red and white dress from Warehouse and tie the straps of my favourite wedges around my ankles. Not half bad, I think as I look in the mirror; then I head out to the kitchen.

  Oh, for pity’s sake. She’s gone, of course.

  Chapter 5

  ‘You look nice,’ Molly gushes, as I walk into the recently Amy-evacuated kitchen. ‘I like your dress.’

  Sam’s nowhere to be seen. ‘Has Sam already left for work?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, Amy’s giving him a lift to the ferry. What did you think of her? She’s lovely, isn’t she?’ Molly beams. Her eagerness is most definitely not contagious.

  ‘Yeah, she seems really nice.’ I know my voice is lacking conviction, but Molly doesn’t seem to notice.

  ‘Honestly, I can’t believe she and Nathan aren’t all loved up. They make such a fab couple.’

  ‘From the way she was talking it seems like they’re definitely an item.’ I’m fishing.

  ‘I don’t think so. Well, I don’t know. Maybe they are.’