London Calling Read Free

next week, only her temporary home was Karen’s. I assured Karen this was not a good move if she wanted to continue our relationship. She assured me she had no intention of doing that, and perhaps I shouldn’t stop by our favourite haunt that Friday night because she’d be there with Paula and I might feel a bit uncomfortable and, well, single. I took her advice.
    In the weeks that followed it suddenly became devastatingly clear that my happiness and Australia didn’t appear to be compatible. Every time my heart and head fizzed into action, galloping towards a magical realm, an axe would fall elsewhere cutting the blood supply and killing the plan stone dead.
    It was only after six weeks of drinking and heartache that I arrived home one night and realised what I was craving: home. Proper home. There was nothing to keep me in Sydney anymore. I’d tried the Aussie girls, we didn’t seem to click and with Karen still fresh in my system I simply didn’t have the energy to play the scene. So I’d fired up my laptop, looked up cheap flights to the UK and decided to alter the course of my life.
    I began the farewell process, having goodbye parties with my workmates, my book club, my gay boys and finally my best friends – Tom and Tess. They were the first two I’d told my plans to three months previous and both had been aghast, doing their best to talk me out of it.
    “All it ever does is rain!” protested Tom – he was originally from Manchester, so he knew.
    “Who am I going to talk sport with now?” Tess had asked. But in the end, they knew they were fighting a losing battle and that my heart was made up.
    The night before I flew they both came over to my now empty flat armed with sparkling wine, Chinese food and a goodbye playlist created by Tom. As Kylie played, Tom proposed a toast.
    “To Karen. When I see you, you’d better hide because I’m going to slap you for running our girl out of town,” he said.
    I spat my drink out and smirked.
    “You have my permission.”
    “To our girl Jess,” Tess said, giving Tom a stern look. “I can’t believe you’re leaving us in February and not staying for Mardi Gras – what kind of a gay are you?!”
    I laughed – Tess knew very well my contempt for all things Pride.
    “You know, I saw Karen and Paula out at Love Lounge last week – I didn’t know whether to tell you,” she added. I shrugged with what I hoped came across as indifference.
    “It’s fine,” I lied.
    “Anyway, they didn’t look happy – I flung them a death stare on your behalf.”
    “Good girl,” said Tom.
    We’d finished the evening with shots of Russian vodka and Tess reiterating she didn’t know what she’d do without me. But there was no looking back now: the die was cast. I was 32 and going home with only a rucksack on my back and a wealth of memories and friendships to show for my time in Oz.
    When the plane took off, I wondered what Karen was doing, if she was happy, if she knew I was leaving or wanted me back. Whatever, it was too late now. I was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    My brother Jack was waiting at the family home when we arrived, along with his wife Vicky and their two sons, Luke and Freddie. The kids had no idea who this dishevelled woman their dad was so pleased to see was, being aged three and two and never having met me before.
    “Meet your best new babysitter, boys!” was Jack’s introduction as I kissed them both hello. Luke was the older of the two by 13 months and had fair hair, while Freddie was a walking shock of blond.
    “If you’re paying, I’m available,” I said, scooping Freddie up in my arms. To my surprise he acquiesced without a murmur, looking at me quizzically with his big blue eyes.
    ***
    Jack had met Vicky at university ten years earlier. Drawn by her way with a hockey stick and her frankly cracking tits, he’d successfully wooed her and somehow managed to persuade her to marry him four years later.
    I’d been a reluctant bridesmaid, mainly