London Calling (16 page)

Read London Calling Online

Authors: Clare Lydon

BOOK: London Calling
3.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I work all week and then she works all weekend,” she said.

“She’s saving lives and you’re trashing them working on your gossip rag. There’s something poetic about that, don’t you think? Do you think you were attracted to her because her goodness balances out your badness?”

“I’m just pissed off. I’m starting to think she doesn’t want to see me anymore and that’s more the issue.”

“Really?”

“Maybe.” She paused. “I dunno. Maybe I’m just being dramatic.” She pushed out her bottom lip. “But that’s my forte isn’t it?”

“It is. And I’d say you are.” I sat forward on the sofa. “Hey we can go out together as a foursome soon – you, me, Caroline and Lucy. There’s something for you to look forward to.” Kate didn’t look thrilled.

“Okay grumpy. Let me get myself together…” I said, heaving myself off the sofa. “…And we can go down the pub and you can moan at me through the football.”

“Sounds like my perfect Saturday,” she said.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

The next day we were out of the house by the allotted time and on a bus to my parent’s house in the North London suburbs. My head throbbed as the bus jolted along the road, fresh potholes appearing every few seconds to add to my discomfort. I breathed out heavily and Kate patted my thigh lightly. She didn’t seem to suffer too much with hangovers, which (along with her washboard stomach) was just another brick in the unfairness wall of life.

However, in my corner this morning was Lucy who’d sent me a sexy wake-up text, letting me know that she wished it was me she was waking up with this morning and not her cousin, hastily adding he wasn’t in her bed but rather in her spare room. I was impressed by that fact – having a spare room meant you were officially grown up.

I texted Lucy back, telling her there was nothing I would have liked more than to wake up with her that morning, to smell her skin, feel her touch. She already felt like a part of me; I already felt addicted. That thought made me smile but it also worried me too. The last time I’d felt something this strong was with Karen and look how that ended.

***

We arrived at my parents’ house to a scene of mayhem. Freddie and Luke were chasing each other round a well-worn circuit of the ground floor – out through the lounge door, down the hallway, into the dining room and then through the lounge: repeat until someone falls over. Stepping into the hallway after Vicky opened the door was to blunder onto a racing circuit and fear for your life. Sure enough, within 20 seconds Luke had crashed into my legs, causing Freddie to crash into him and me to stagger into Vicky.

“Boys! What did I tell you? Slow down!” said Vicky. She struggled to keep the strictness in her voice.

“Hiya by the way,” she added, hugging me. She looked her usual coolly turned out self but her eyes and the bags under them also gave away tiredness. I made a mental note to sit myself beside her so my mum wouldn’t single out the tell-tale tired luggage on my face.

“Hey yourself,” I said, still smiling but also wincing and rubbing my leg. Meanwhile, Jack appeared and scooped up a whimpering Luke in his arms, with Freddie seemingly unperturbed – he was two years old and indestructible. Jack grinned and leaned over to give me a kiss before I planted one on Luke in his arms.

“Sorry if my leg hurt you Luke. Bad leg,” I said. I hit my leg and winced in pain. I’d hit it a bit too hard.

“Selfless aunty,” Jack said. “How are we, ladies?” He kissed Kate hello.

“Ready for a drink,” Kate shrugging off her coat.

Jack put Luke down then took our coats as we followed Vicky through to the kitchen. Mum and dad were in full Sunday lunch flow, the smell of roast lamb searing the air, the heat of the kitchen sticking to our skin as we walked in.

“Girls! Hello!” said dad. I was touched to see he was wearing his blue apron with white stripes that I’d sent over last Christmas.

Not for the first time though, I wondered when either Kate or I – both being over 30 – would graduate to being ladies in my dad’s eyes. Being called girls always grated with me and it was something I was having to get used to all over again now I was back. I would have loved to have brought it up with dad but it seemed a little churlish. Pick your battles, as Kate had told me when I mentioned it.

We both kissed him and mum, then dad opened the fridge and popped his head around it.

“Beer? Wine? G&T?”

“Beer please,” Kate said.

“Me too.”

Dad took two Stellas out of the fridge and put them on the counter. “Glasses over there,” he said, indicating the cupboard by my head.

“I know, I did used to live here.”

“Okay,” he said in a sing-song voice, not quite understanding my bristling tone. I urged myself to put my qualms aside and settle into this lunch, otherwise it could get uncomfortable for us all.

“Thanks dad.” A bit more contrite.

“You okay?” mum said. Her pink top brought out her red hair, although she’d clearly been at the wine already as her face had a slight rouged hue.

“Fine,” I said.

“Late night?”

“Not particularly, just a bit tired.”

Kate coughed as I passed her the bottle opener.

“You should try some of those herbal pills, worked wonders when I went through that patch last year you know,” she said. I grunted at my mum’s suggestion and wondered why I’d turned into a surly teenager. My parents were clearly puzzled too but turned their attention to Kate instead.

“So Kate, how are you doing living with Jess? You keeping her in check?” dad said. He still had a tone in his voice which told me he was a little afraid of the answer he might get. Part of dad perceives the gay lifestyle as so other to his: orgies, keys in bowls and hazy smoke-filled rooms. How disappointed he’d be to learn it’s exactly the same as his, one long conga line of washing up, council tax bills and jam in the margarine.

“I do my best, Ian, but she’s a bit of a wild child,” Kate said.

“I think you should be asking Jess that about my sister from what I hear,” Vicky said. And so began the inquisition of the city slickers from the suburbanites.

I ducked out, leaving Kate and Vicky charming my parents, and took Luke into the lounge where Jack was on the floor with Freddie. I sat on the sofa and put Luke on my lap but he wriggled free just like Tess’s cats always had anytime I’d tried the same trick with them.

“So, little sis, how are things?”

“Things are good,” I said. “Great in fact.”

“Date went well, then?”

I nodded.

“Good for you, it’s about time.”

“About time?”

Jack shrugged. “Well you know – it’s been a while since Karen, hasn’t it? Someone new would be nice.”

“I suppose so.”

“So when do we get to meet her?” He looked overly excited.

“When the second, third and possibly the tenth date is over and I know she doesn’t scare easily.”

“I’m not talking about mum and dad.”

“Even so, I don’t want to rush this one. She’s… I don’t know, but I think this could be something.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at me. “From the grand dame of understatement, that’s almost like a declaration of love.”

***

We sat down to dinner half an hour later after Kate and I had set the table while Vicky helped mum and dad in the kitchen. I don’t know why it’s always been that way but it has – I set up and wash up but never cook.

Mum was in inquisitive mood and the conversation soon turned to Caroline, much to my surprise. Clearly, other lesbians’ love lives were fair game but mine was a different story.

“So Kate, I hear you’re courting,” mum said. Vicky and I both choked on our green beans. Meanwhile, Freddie was sat alongside me kicking me rhythmically in the knee, which wasn’t all that comfortable. When I tried to stop him under the table, he just kicked my hand instead so I decided to put up with it for now. I kept trying to shift position in a bid to avoid the incoming foot but he seemed to shift with me, needing me to bounce off to keep his stride.

“I am, yes – Caroline.”

“Wonderful. What does she do?”

I felt like I was in some sort of surreal sketch show but the canned laughter never came – rather, the whole family was straining their eyes and ears, wondering where this was going.

“She’s a nurse, works at the general on geriatrics.”

“A nurse. How lovely to be going out with a nurse,” mum said. She was smiling a smile I didn’t recognise.

“Good bedside manner, Kate?” Jack said.

“Jack!” mum said. The rest of us sniggered as mum gave him a disapproving stare.

“Well you must bring her next time, plenty of lamb left over,” said dad, indicating the not-yet eaten meat. This was all getting far too weird for me.

“She tends to work a lot of weekends but if she’s free I will,” Kate said. There was a pause while we all looked around, rummaging in our brains for the next subject. I’m not quite sure why but I took the lead against all my better instincts.

“I’ve started seeing someone too, so perhaps I’ll bring her along as well.”

Where it had come from I had no idea, but there it was. Out there in the middle of the table along with the roast potatoes, sliced lamb and mint sauce. It didn’t have its own dish but right now it was centre stage with flashing lights. I’d told my family I was seeing someone and I didn’t even know if I was. Oh my god.

“Really?” said mum. She was blinking at a rapid rate, chewing her food round and round with no sign of digestion imminent.

“Well, that’s marvellous!” said dad. His voice was now so uncomfortably high he reminded me of Ange. I took a large swig of my wine and forged ahead on the white-water rapids I’d suddenly launched myself onto, water splattering in my face at an alarming rate.

“She’s called Lucy, she’s an optician.” I paused to check mum’s face and sure enough, there was an uplift. I slalomed on. “She’s really nice. You’d like her.”

All of a sudden my bravado disappeared and my canoe capsized. I took another swig of my wine and focused my attention on Freddie.

“And you young man can stop kicking me.” Amazingly, he did as he was told.

“So how long have you been seeing her?” mum said. I could see the cogs whirring in her brain.

“We had our first date on Friday.”

“Friday. Early days then.” Her tone implied it was a bit soon to be making grand statements when I’d had one solitary date.

“Yes, but I’m optimistic.”

If the word awkward hadn’t already been invented, I would have carved it into the table then and there and presented it to my mother, gift-wrapped.

“Well, of course she’s welcome any time,” mum said. “Any of your friends are.”

And there it was: Kate was courting, I had a friend.

“She’s my girlfriend, mum.” I didn’t want to give this up even though I knew it was a fight I’d already conceded. Plus, was she my girlfriend after one date? Even I wasn’t sure.

“You know what I mean,” she said. Her tone and body language told me this subject experiment had just come to close. “Now, who’s for more potatoes?”

And with that we were back on familiar Sunday lunch territory, the thorny prospect of my love life being swept neatly back under the carpet.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

Before bed that night I decided to write some emails and check Facebook. When I worked in an office I used to check Facebook at least once an hour and at times was worried I was becoming addicted. These days, though, I’d shaken my addiction and now Facebook was just a casual pastime, which was probably more appropriate for someone in their 30s.

I double-clicked on my email and as it hovered into view, a familiar name sat in my inbox, causing my stomach to churn. I shifted on my bed. Karen had emailed me, something she hadn’t done since she’d told me to leave and pulled the duvet over her and Paula. But now that Paula had deserted her, had she been lying alone under the duvet and thinking of me? I took a deep breath, slowly wheeled the cursor across the screen and clicked on the email which was innocuously titled ‘Hi From Sydney.’

 

Dear Jess,

 

I know this is not an email you were expecting to receive but I feel compelled to write to you so I hope you read this and don’t just discard it. Hope the UK is treating you well and you’re enjoying being back home with your friends and family. Sydney is the same as it always was, but it misses you. I’m not really sure how to start this letter, so I guess I’ll just dive right in…

I’m writing to say sorry for everything that happened. I know I treated you badly with the whole Paula situation and I’ve since had time to think about it and just wanted you to know I was really happy with you and buggered it up. What happened had nothing to do with you, it was all about me and where I was at – i.e., not a good place. Paula filled a void temporarily, but it’s only now that I’m in therapy I realise how wrong I was and how much I owe you an apology.

You were nothing but lovely to me and I threw it all back in your face. I hope you don’t bear too much of a grudge and that if our paths do ever cross in the future we could say hello. I hope that one day we can even be friends but I know that’s up to you.

I just want you to know that I valued our time together and that everything that happened was my fault, all down to me and nothing to do with you. This is all my shit that I’m dealing with now. Paula and I are no longer together in case you didn’t know.

Anyway, I hope you’re happy doing whatever you’re doing. I ran into Tess a few weeks ago and she said you were so that’s good. I’m also planning on a trip to the UK in the next few weeks so maybe we could catch up – I’ll be in London for a bit. I still love you but I understand I’ve probably burnt my bridges with you.

 

Take care, all my love,

Karen xxx

 

Well. I wasn’t expecting that.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

After Karen’s email I’d managed to get a surprisingly good night’s sleep, waking from a dream in which I was being chased by a dragon called Karen when my alarm went at 6.30am. My first thought on waking was ‘Karen is a dragon’. This was quickly followed by ‘Karen is coming to London’. And then: ‘Fuck. Shit. Fuckity fucksticks.’

Other books

The Empire of Shadows by Richard E. Crabbe
Placeres Prohibidos by Laurell K. Hamilton
Not Ready for Mom Jeans by Maureen Lipinski
Dream New Dreams by Jai Pausch
Little Princes by Conor Grennan
Six by Karen Tayleur
The Sweetest Thing by Elizabeth Musser