London Calling (10 page)

“But we can’t all be like you and Tom now can we?”

“God forbid,” she laughed. “Look, I have to run as soon as I’ve finished this,” she said, checking her watch.

“So you just came in to berate me?”

“Yes, but I don’t have time to do it properly – I have a wedding to organise, remember? You have got the hen do booked out, right?”

“I have it stained on my eyeballs. When I try to look forward, that’s all I can see.”

“Just the way it should be,” she said.

***

Lying on my bed later on, I texted Tess on the off chance she’d be around to Skype. Her text came back at lightning pace, saying she had BIG NEWS in capital letters. I logged on, sitting up and making sure neither me nor my room looked a tip. But then I reminded myself I wasn’t talking to my mum or the Queen.

Tess appeared on the screen in jeans and her favourite blue T-shirt, waving in an animated fashion as people tend to do on Skype. It’s a strange facet of human nature.

“Hey Jess, how are you?” she asked from the other side of the world.

“All right. You’re looking very chipper for 8am.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep so I’ve been up for three hours. I’ve cleaned the bathroom and done some ironing. It’s actually nearly lunchtime in my body clock.”

I laughed.

“So what’s the big news that needed capital letters then? The suspense is killing me.”

Tess sat upright on her sofa, re-balancing the laptop. It made no difference whatsoever but it seemed to please her.

“Can you see me okay?”

“Yep, fine.”

“Well – I was out at Ghetto on Monday with Tom…”

“Oh I miss those nights!”

“You hated going out on a Monday,” she reminded me.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well anyway. I was out at Ghetto and I ran into Jan. Remember Jan, Kevin’s friend?”

I thought for a minute.

“Blonde hair, buggy eyes, gobby?”

“Exactly that. Still blonde, still buggy and still very gobby. And she informed me that Karen and Paula are no more – Paula dumped Karen and ran off with another woman.”

I was shocked.

“I know, right!?” said Tess. She took in my stunned face, captured in grey, grainy magic on my laptop’s tiny webcam. I blew out a breath.

“Well, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did Karen. Karma though right? What goes around…”

“There is that. I don’t know what to say really.”

“Serves her bloody right, something like that?”

“That’ll do,” I smiled.

However, part of me couldn’t help thinking ‘poor Karen’. I hoped she was all right but I was still pleased at the news – there’s nothing worse than being dumped for someone and then that couple staying together for years on end. You want the person who dumped you to go through the same pain and it appeared I was getting my wish.

“Did Jan say anymore?”

“Just that Paula has already moved in with this woman in true lesbian fashion, being that she was living with Karen and couldn’t very well carry that on…”

“Who is she?”

Tess shrugged.

“Someone she worked with apparently. But anyway, enough of my news – tell me about high-pitched Ange. That sounds like a story…”

I settled on my bed and began the tale.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following Saturday was slowly baking so I decided to go for a walk. As I clicked the door shut the clouds were parting to reveal patches of blue beneath, while underfoot the ground steamed as the sun pounded the streets. I said hi to a street cleaner who looked oddly at me as if I were about to assault him and headed down to the canal, through the Van Gogh Estate and out onto the Kingsland Road.

As I walked, I breathed in the smells of Vietnamese and Chinese cooking as I passed by the myriad scruffy Asian cafés packed solid with wilted white plastic chairs and chipped tables. A little further down the road a Tesco Express had just opened, propping up a new set of flats in an old building that used to be a factory. At its side the small customer car park was almost melting with a hazy shimmer hovering over the grey tarmac, the world above it wobbling from side to side as if in a Hanna-Barbera cartoon. A few more steps and I was on the canal path.

London’s canal network never failed to thrill me and it was where I often headed on sunny days – either there or down to the Thames itself. Being by water always afforded me time to think - it was like putting my thoughts and feelings on a daily wash cycle and spinning them round until they were rinsed thoroughly.

Today, top of the list was ‘do I need to buy more eggs?’ Second was ‘I really should book a dental appointment’. The further I walked, though, the more these thoughts cleared from my brain and allowed the more buried ones to appear. Things like, ‘I wonder what Lucy’s doing today?’ and ‘I wonder if Karen’s thinking about me now she’s been dumped?’ I grinned at the sweet-tasting justice of it all.

Walking up the canal I could feel the sun soaking into my face. My new shades were also working hard to save me developing squinting wrinkles and I decided to stop at a pub that had people spilling out of it, all flocking to the water for beer and reflection.

After waiting for an eternity at the bar I took my pint of cider and sat on the towpath, levering myself down into a cross-legged sitting position and managing to shield my cider from the sun. All along the towpath, couples, friends and solos like me sat reading books, drinking, chatting, laughing. The relaxed atmosphere of a Saturday in the city crackled right along it – the time was only 2.30pm after all, with the whole day ahead of us.

I’d decided to save myself last night after the usual two Friday pints with Matt and Beth and had told Matt to do the same as Julia had set him up on his blind date tonight with a woman called Natalie. I smiled thinking of my workmates and of how these people had become such a big part of my life in such a short space of time. I’d only been working at Porter’s for the past seven weeks but already it felt like a lifetime, like this was what I’d been waiting for all my life. A café, who would have guessed?

I took another sip of my cider and pondered which shops to hit after my drink when my train of thought was interrupted by a shadow looming over me. I squinted up into the sun and turned to see a woman on a bike peering down at me.

“Jess?” she said.

“Er, yeah.” She had a helmet on so I had no idea who it was.

“Lucy – friend of Kate’s? We met in town a while back.”

I twisted, steadied my weight on one leg, leaned on it and straightened up fully to match Lucy’s height, brushing the back and front of my jeans of any excess gravel they’d acquired.

“Hi!” I said. I tried to control my voice. “You made it back then?”

“Yep. There and back alive.” She gave me a shy smile. “Good to see you again.”

“You too.” I said. “Nice bike.”

“Thanks. I’ve just cycled from Little Venice – could do with a drink actually.”

Her bike looked like it meant business being silver and shiny, my two criteria for judging such things. Also, if the toned cut of her calf muscles were anything to go by, she was no stranger to it, either.

“Well join me,” I said.

“You sure?”

“Positive. I can guard your bike while you get a drink if you like.”

“That’d be great.” She laid her bike delicately on the floor beside me. “Do you need one?” she asked, unbuckling her helmet strap underneath her chin before taking it off completely and ruffling her short dark hair. I smiled and cleared my throat.

“I’m good.”

“Back in a tick.”

I couldn’t help a huge grin spreading across my face as I watched this attractive woman disappear into the pub: this Saturday was definitely full of possibilities. When she returned just minutes later – she either flashed the bartender a killer smile or was one of those people who trampled old ladies to get a drink – I noticed again what I’d noted the first time around: gorgeous dark brown eyes and adorable smile.

Dressed casually in T-shirt, cut-off jeans and trainers, Lucy looked great. She sat down beside me with a pint of lager and we clinked glasses.

“Gorgeous weather, isn’t it?” She ran her hand through her hair. “Excuse the helmet hair – it probably looks a right state.”

“Looks fine,” I said. She smiled and I noticed her cute dimple again.

 “I was out your way last night – I hoped I might bump into you,” she said.

“I was knackered last night so didn’t have a big one.”

“Same here, I didn’t stay.” She paused. “I’ve had a killer week.”

“Lots of eyes?”

“Everywhere you look,” she smiled. “So I thought I’d ride it out.”

“Good plan.”

I decided not to declare my hatred of towpath cyclists right at that moment – strategic planning.

“So tell me about your trip to Sydney – did you meet any cute women?”

Why in the world had I asked that? Lucy snorted.

“I was beating them off with a stick. Or is it a boomerang in Oz?”

“I’m not sure either would work.”

I paused, regaining my composure.

“Okay let me try again. Did you make it to Bondi?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“It was ace. And I even took some surf lessons.”

“Now that is amazing. I was there three years and never got beyond putting on a wet suit and splashing about in the sea with a board. Fear of sharks.”

“Right,” she said. “Well I can’t say I was a pro but it was fun – and the instructor was cute too.”

“Now we’re getting to the bottom of it,” I said and she laughed. Even at one of my bad jokes. Interesting.

“What about Newtown?”

“Ah well, that’s a whole other story. Oh, and I saw that drag king – your ex, what was her name?”

“Teri?” I said, stunned. I often find my mouth running away with me and telling people stories of my life, safe in the knowledge they’re never going to run into the lead characters who are safely tucked away on the other side of the world. Until now.

“Yes, Butch Cassidy!”

“Oh my god, now I’m really embarrassed…”

“No need. I was really impressed with her – she’s still doing the act with the black dildo by the way…”

I blushed phone box red.

“And it’s just like you said – very realistic shall we say...”

Lucy began to laugh as I gulped at my pint for something to do.

“Hmmm. I’m not sure I could have made you feel much more uncomfortable,” she said. I smiled and flicked my hand nonchalantly.

“It’s fine. It’s just, you know, a blast from the past brought up by someone who’s here and now and I’ve only met you twice. But I’m glad you enjoyed the show. Whatever else she is, Teri’s definitely a pro.”

“Agreed.”

Lucy closed her eyes and stretched backward, arching her body into the sun, straining every muscle to allow the sunshine in. I caught myself staring but turned away quick enough so that when she opened her eyes, I was looking into the water. Smooth, I thought.

“So do you come here often?” she asked.

“Good line,” I said.

“I got them all.”

We both laughed.

“But in answer to your question, yeah I do. I love the water so I walk along the canal or the river, whichever one I fancy.”

“Me too – apart from I bike it. Have you done the Thames Path?”

Her eyes raked my body as she waited for an answer. I felt goosebumps prickle my skin and hoped she wasn’t looking too closely as I evidently couldn’t be cold.

“The bits around London – but I’d love to do the whole thing all the way to Gloucester.”

“Me too.” She paused. “Perhaps we should do a section one day.”

“Maybe,” I smiled. Lucy smiled back.

“I just hope you’re not one of those cyclists who nearly knocks pedestrians into the water at every opportunity.”

“Not me, I was a girl scout,” she said. She leaned over and rang the bell on her bike. “I always ring and always say thank you.”

“Good to know,” I said.

I discovered that Lucy had really enjoyed Sydney and had gone to all my favourite bars, which made me feel homesick and missing my friends. She asked why I’d moved back.

“I had my heart broken and I didn’t want to settle down so far away from my family and friends – plus it just seemed the right time.”

She nodded. “Sometimes the fates conspire to tell you something don’t they?” She indicated my empty glass. “Can I get you another?”

“I’ll get them,” I said. I was up and walking before she could say no.

At the bar, I wondered where all this was going and also marvelled at how random it was too. I turned back when I got to the bar and she was watching – when she saw me turn she abruptly looked the other way. We were getting on really well and the spark we’d shared on our first meeting was definitely still there. I tried to locate the feeling that was growing in the pit of my stomach and settled on excitement mixed with fear – not such an unhealthy response to the first woman who’d flicked a switch since Karen (bypassing the ill-fated Ange).

But I still wasn’t sure I was ready for this, still wasn’t sure I didn’t have too much baggage to carry from the last relationship into the next. Whenever I’d flipped the coin of love before it’d fallen pain-side up. Could I trust that the odds would be stacked in my favour sooner rather than later?

However, that was all in the future. Right now, I wasn’t in a relationship with Lucy and all I was doing was having impromptu Saturday lunchtime drinks – nothing more, nothing less. As I walked back to where she sat I sipped my pint to stop it from spilling and tried to look nonchalant. I sat down giving her a full-beam smile.

“So tell me about your heavy week and your new job…” she said.

We sat together chatting for another 45 minutes before parting and confirming numbers, promising to meet up for a drink soon and this time sans bike and perhaps even inside a bar. As she cycled away, turning back to wave once before her legs swung into motion, I hoped she was as buoyed by our meeting as I was. I knew one thing – I had better hit the shops to take my mind off of things before my thought process spiralled out of control and I was married to her with two cats.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN