London Calling Read Free Page A

because it involved wearing a lilac dress and slingback heels, both of which had no regular place in my wardrobe. My concerns were doubled by Vicky’s sister Kate, also a lady of lavender and unaccustomed to wearing flowing gowns. Particularly when they had to be worn in front of a crowd and Jesus nailed to a cross.
    “You do remember who you’ve asked to be your bridesmaids, don’t you?” Kate had asked Vicky when she’d presented us with her choices at the first dress fitting. “Lilac isn’t really my colour.”
    “Nor mine,” I’d chipped in, both of us behaving like sulky teens, starkly out of place amongst the pearly white interior of the bridal shop.
    “Just try the dresses on, play nicely and I’ll buy you both lunch afterwards – deal?”
    Since then, Team Bridesmaid had been a regular duo on the London scene pre-Sydney and I was looking forward to catching up with Kate now I’d returned.
    ***
    “So how does it feel to be back?” Jack said as we sat down on our parents’ cream leather sofa. Jack worked in the city doing something terribly clever with numbers and had inherited dad’s thick head of dark hair, which he kept very short. He was dressed in black jeans and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt, his feet encased in jauntily striped socks. His style was what the Americans would call preppy.
    “Surreal,” I said, taking in the new addition of a glass coffee table and numerous dried plants around the room. “And after a day on a plane, I’m feeling super.”
    “And how are you after Karen – Kate told us,” Vicky said. She winced slightly.
    She too was wearing jeans along with a cream lacy top that had slid down one shoulder, revealing her tanned skin. I shrugged.
    “Okay, you know.”
    She gave me a concerned look as Freddie finally wriggled free from my embrace and toddled over to sit on his mum’s lap. Vicky smoothed back his fine hair and kissed his head.
    “Well, Kate says to call her for a drink very soon. She also mentioned that she knew someone who had a room near her. Have you got her number?”
    “I do, thanks.”
    “And whatever the reason, we’re very glad you’re back,” Vicky said.
    “Thanks. But can you do something about the weather?”
    ***
    A few hours later Jack, Vicky and the boys were gone, mum and dad were being happily entertained by some Sunday murder-mystery and I was lying in the guest room, exhausted but unable to sleep with my mind working overtime.
    So I was back in London, seemingly for good. Plus points: roof over head, far away from Karen, back with family. Minus points: back with family, freezing cold, missing friends. You have done the right thing, I told myself. This is absolutely the best course of action. It makes total sense and this is the next chapter of your life. I lay having a pillow-fight in my mind for a couple of hours before it eventually shutdown and I drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of Bondi Beach, sharks and Karen. No need for a dream diary to untangle that one.
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The next morning my mum woke me at 9am, jetlag be damned. She also made me a bacon sandwich and chatted non-stop – all that was required from me was the odd nod and smile throughout mouthfuls of food and slurps of tea. Did I want to come with her to pilates later? What about bingo this evening? How about a slice of apple pie? I politely declined all three, which left her muttering into the washing machine as she filled it. I stacked the dishwasher and disappeared upstairs to call Kate.
    “The wanderer returns with a broken heart. How’s being back in the bosom of your family, girl?” Kate said.
    “Strangely normal. How are you?”
    “Same old same old – three years on and that’s still the case.”
    “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
    “That’s because it’s true. People who do adventurous things make us all feel bad when they return and nothing in our lives has changed.”
    “Adventurous. Okay, I’ll go with that.” I paused.