London Calling (12 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next day dawned just as sunny as the previous. I awoke with a slightly fuzzy head to a text from Jack telling me to come over to theirs for a barbecue if I had no other plans. I didn’t and as I could feel the sun beating through my window even from under the covers, a day soaking up its rays in the suburbs sounded just dandy. Kate and Caroline were also invited but declined, so I left them to spend the day together and got on a microwave-hot train to the suburbs.

I fiddled with my phone the whole way there, scrolling through to Lucy’s number, hovering my finger over the green ‘call’ button but not being able to bring myself to make the move. I understood the clock was ticking but reasoned I’d do it later – I didn’t want to look too keen.

To take my mind off it I scrolled through the rest of my contacts and marvelled at the paucity of them, it being a new phone and me having not acquired a whole lot of numbers as yet. Lucy was one of only three names listed under L. She was by far the most attractive in that category.

As I was smiling at my phone, it beeped and a text came through. It was from Kate.

“Call her,” it read.

She wasn’t giving up on this was she? I put my phone away and wiggled my feet in my flip-flops, glad I’d chanced wearing them as the day was baking.

Jack and Vicky lived in the burbs. “Still on the tube map,” Vicky had countered when I’d mentioned the fact. “Zone five sweetheart, social suicide!” I’d replied.

As a trade-off for living on the far reaches of the Northern line, however, they’d been able to afford a three-bedroom house on one of those new-build estates that were full of young couples and small people playing football against any available wall. Also, they’d made a bunch of good friends in their neighbours, quite a few of whom were coming along today.

Jack gave me a hug and seemed genuinely pleased to see me when the cab dropped me off, which always threw me a little because we fought so much when we were growing up. That fighting had somehow evolved into an easy brother-sister-almost-friends-even relationship over the years, no doubt aided by Vicky but also by my absence. He was also grateful I was back now to share some of the parenting duties that Shirley and Ian required.

“Are mum and dad coming?” I said. He took my beers and plonked them on the side as I followed him into the kitchen.

“Other plans,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “They’d already been invited to dinner at some friends I’ve never even heard of. Apparently mum met the woman at some course she did and now they’re spending Sunday afternoons with them. Sure dad’s thrilled about that seeing as Arsenal are on the telly.”

“Poor old dad,” I paused. “Is there room in the fridge?” I picked up the bag of beer.

“I’ll take them outside, we’ve got a beer bath out there. Come on.” The bottles clinked as he grabbed them.

If the house had appeared empty, that’s because everyone was already outside in the surprisingly large garden at the rear of the house, mainly given over to grass with a raised patio near the house and a Jack-built barbecue area to the right behind the garage.

Jack and Vicky had one of those dark wooden garden furniture sets that are always on the front cover of home supplements and all six chairs were taken with ladies sipping white wine. Showing great understanding of gender stereotypes, there were also three men poking meat on the barbecue and another five men sipping from their bottles of beer in close proximity, just to be sure their masculinity wasn’t in doubt. Intertwined in this domestic scene were seven kids, all under five, zipping in and out of adult legs.

After eating some seafood, a home-made lamb burger and a slew of salads, I unwisely played football with my nephews. I lasted two minutes before deciding I should let my food go down first, and cajoled two of the other little boys into taking my place.

After extricating myself from the field of play I fell into place beside Jack’s mate, Daniel, who I’d known for as long as Jack and Vicky had been together. Daniel was shorter than I remembered but still a sweetheart and a well-dressed one at that. He was wearing cut-off jean shorts, faded T-shirt and flip-flops. To all intents and purposes, Daniel really should be gay as I’d told him on many occasions, to which he always laughed and told me he just couldn’t get over the stubble. That, and the other cock.

Daniel was newly single, fucked over by his former girlfriend, so we commiserated and tutted at the state of womankind. But then I let slip to him about Lucy and he seemed to be on Kate’s side.

“You like her?” he said.

I nodded.

“Then you should call her. Simple as.”

“It’s not though is it?”

“Isn’t it?” he said, giving me that questioning face that had been a favourite of Kate and Caroline last night.

“No it’s not. What if it ends badly like all the others? Plus, I have trouble pressing the green button on my phone when her number’s involved.”

Daniel waggled his fingers in a ‘come hither’ gesture, palm facing up.

“Give it to me.”

“What?”

“Your phone.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. I’ll press the green button then all you have to do is talk.”

He was still holding out his hand. I laughed and smacked it away.

“You’re not getting it, I’m not that drunk. Yet.” I paused. “Do you know about the three-day window?”

He took a swig from his bottle of Peroni and nodded.

 “It seems to cut across sexuality lines, that one – all my friends, straight and gay have been telling me the clock’s ticking.”

“They’re not wrong,” he said.

“But why three days? Can’t I call her in a week?”

Daniel shook his head and laughed.

“And there was me thinking gays were sensitive.”

“That’s gay men, darling,” I said, patting his hairy arm. “I’m a lesbian remember – I’m butch and tough and spend my evenings fixing bikes and smashing things.”

“I know, I’m lucky you’re not beating me senseless right now,” he said. His smile revealed a dimple in his right cheek, all of which only served to remind me of Lucy even more. “But anyway, call her. If you don’t call her within three days then you clearly don’t think very much of her do you?”

I thought about that.

“So you’ll call her?”

“I thought you were down on love?”

“That’s my own – I’m still in the beat-myself-up stage. But you know me, I’m a romantic at heart. I’m for love – and for sex. And if you’ve got a chance at both then I’d say it’s worth a shot, even if you end up getting shot down. Which I’m sure you won’t.”

“I hope not.”

“God loves a trier,” he said.

“But hates a fag apparently.”

“That’s only because he’s still not over the fact that his only son was gay,” he said. “And you’d think after all this time too…”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Parents always take it the worst.”

We both laughed.

“So you’re going to call?” Daniel persisted.

“Oh. My. God. Yes, I’m going to call. You’re worse than my mother.”

He smiled. “How is the lovely Shirley?”

“Still mad.”

We both smirked at the thought of my mother with Daniel. Put frankly, mum had a bit of a crush on him and Daniel did nothing to dissuade her.

“Say hello for me.”

“Far too dangerous. She’ll think that means you want to whisk her off from Ian and ravish her.”

“There’s a thought. Would you and Jack be comfortable calling me daddy?” he asked.

I shuddered.

“What, too far?”

“Way too far,” I said.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The next day at work, Matt described his date Natalie as “perfect”. He’d taken her for dinner at his favourite bistro and they’d got on brilliantly.

“And she’s got a kid too, so she wasn’t put off by mine.”

“So you’re seeing her again, I take it?” I said, taking a load of coffee cups from the dishwasher and swearing because they were still red hot.

“I hope so,” he said. “Want a hand?”

I nodded, sucking my slightly singed fingers and he started unloading with me. Matt made light of the scorching crockery.

“That’s great, I’m really pleased for you.”

“Can you tell Julia thanks for me?” he said, piling up a stack of saucers.

“I will, or you can tell her yourself next time she’s in which won’t be long. She’s a big fan of your quiches.”

***

Turns out also that Kate and Daniel needn’t have worried about me. I was just about to have my lunch after the rush had died down around 3.30pm when a woman walked in wearing a crisp black shirt, black jeans and biker boots, resting her helmet on her hip. She smiled at me as she walked up to the counter. It was Lucy.

My stomach did a flip and all the spare blood in my system pumped rapidly down my body. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to keep my poise and not melt on the spot.

“Hi,” she said. She smiled at me and ran a hand through her hair. She went to say something but the words seemed to stick in her throat. I knew then that perhaps Lucy had been scrolling to my number all weekend too.

“Hi,” I said. “We really must stop meeting like this.”

I honestly said that without anybody putting a gun to my head. Luckily, Lucy laughed.

“We must,” she said. “How are you? Nice weekend?”

“Lovely, ta.” I paused. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee? I recommend the chocolate cake too, it’s delicious.” I was babbling, never a good sign.

“A latte’s fine, thanks.”

“Grab a table and I’ll bring it over.”

She fished in her pocket for some money but I waved her away.

“My treat,” I said. She blushed. This was going well.

I looked over at her as I steamed her milk and felt something stir inside. Don’t bugger up the latte, Jess. Matt appeared in the doorway, watching me.

“I thought you were taking a break?”

“I was – but Lucy’s over there,” I said, nodding towards her. “So I thought I’d make her coffee.”

“Well make yourself one and go and join her – go on,” he said. He put the lid back on the milk. “Better still, take that over to her and I’ll make yours.”

I began to protest but he pushed me gently out from behind the counter.

“Take it.”

I picked up the latte and walked with as much poise as I could muster to where Lucy was sitting reading that day’s Evening Standard, her motorbike helmet sat on the chair beside her. She smiled up at me as I approached.

“Anything interesting?” I said.

“Not remotely, apart from the fact that Pantene are two for one at Sainsbury’s. Must remember that.”

She had a gorgeous smile and I was suddenly aware that I was wearing an apron. I hastily put her coffee down and untied myself from the back, lifting the neck string over my head, feeling it ruffle my hair as I did.

“So do you work around here?”

I sat down at right angles to her and ran my fingers through my hair before folding my apron on my lap. Anything to take my mind off the sudden attack of butterflies flitting around inside me, threatening to fly out of my mouth, eyes or nose, they weren’t fussy. We locked eyes and I felt slightly sick as Matt approached with a tray carrying my Americano, a jug of milk and some home-baked cookies.

“Ladies,” he said. He set down the tray, his eyes flitting between us. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

I offered Lucy a cookie. She took one but then instantly put it down on the table.

“In answer to your question – not really. I mean, I don’t work a million miles away but there are nearer cafés.”

“Right.” I picked up a sugar, put it down.

“But I wasn’t coming in for the latte particularly…” she said. She trailed off and looked around, slightly embarrassed. “God, this doesn’t get any easier does it?”

She stumbled on, rubbing her hand up and down her right thigh.

“Thing is, I didn’t just come in here to say hi. I was also wondering if you fancied having dinner sometime?”

I tried to control my face from being too surprised, but probably only succeeded in portraying evidence of constipation or trapped wind.

“I’d love to.”

If I looked odd, at least I was sounding normal. Decisive even.

“Great,” she said. She looked painfully relieved. “That’s great.” Double-great. This was going well.

“When were you thinking?”

“How does Friday sound?” She crinkled her face like that might be the worse day in the world to have dinner.

“Sounds brilliant,” I said.

Did that sound too eager? Should I have consulted a diary? I made another mental note to buy a diary. Lucy beamed at me. A woman I used to work with in Australia tried not to smile too much in case it gave her wrinkles in the future. Lucy, I was pleased to note, was not one of that breed.

“Now let’s try to have a normal conversation now that’s out of the way.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” I said.

“We could try.”

She stayed for 20 minutes and for every second of it, all I wanted to do was kiss her. Instead though, I drank my coffee, ate my biscuit, tried not to stare at her too much and marvelled at the fact that such a hot woman had come in here and asked me out. In my head, a choir was singing a hallelujah chorus but I persuaded them to keep the sound down so she couldn’t hear. Not just yet anyway.

When she left, I told her I was really looking forward to Friday and she smiled shyly and told me she was too, causing my body to purr once more. I took a deep breath and saw her out the door, waving with a cheesy grin on my face. When I picked up the cups and walked back to the counter, Matt gave me a knowing look.

“Someone looks happy.”

I blushed again.

“I just got asked out on a date.” My voice cracked with excitement.

“We are smoking in this café this week!”

He returned my grin and put his hand up for a high five.

“That we are.” I smacked his palm with a satisfying thwack.

***

Kate was, obviously, cock-a-hoop when I filled her in that night. She was also impressed Lucy had respected the three-day window.

“At least one of you did at any rate,” she said. “So I take it you’re pleased then?”