London Belongs to Me Page 6

  “You still believe in signs and destiny and all that crazy shit.” Lucy laughed, her brown eyes taking in her old friend. “Look at your hair. It’s shorter, but other than that you’re the same. I’m so happy to see you!”

  She hugged Alex tightly. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be writing up a storm in New York City by now.”

  “It’s a long story. I have so much to tell you! It’s been what? Two years since we were in touch?”

  “I know. We have to do a proper catch up. I’ll be finished here in about forty minutes if you want to hang around?”

  Alex nodded. “Sure. I’ll eat and wait for you to finish.”

  Lucy gave Alex a thumbs-up and disappeared into the back room with the damaged sandwiches. Alex bundled an egg mayo sandwich, a Coke, and a bag of sea salt crisps into her arms and skipped over to Olivia standing beside the baskets of fresh apples and bananas.

  “That’s my friend, Lucy. She works here. Can you believe it?”

  The two of them placed their food choices on the shiny metal counter in front of the cash register. “She was one of my best online friends. We lost touch about two years ago. I can’t believe she’s here…and I’m here. It’s crazy.” She pointed at the hodge-podge of healthy and unhealthy choices. “Let me get this.”

  Olivia slid her salmon, prawn, and crab sushi, and a bottle of coconut water in front of Alex. “It’s crazy all right.” She looked at her watch and crossed her arms. “This place is filling up. I’ll grab a table over there.”

  Alex pulled a twenty-pound note from her wallet. “Okay, cool.” Once her body-conscious flatmate turned her back, Alex waved a chocolate brownie bar at the employee and then tossed it into her bag.

  Olivia wrinkled her nose. “This Lucy person. She’s someone you found online? But you’ve never actually met in person before today?”

  Alex knocked back a swig of her cola. “Yep. We met on Twitter about four years ago. We’d chat about Doctor Who, Sherlock, comic cons, books…all sorts of fandom stuff. We moved over to Facebook and email. We Skyped a lot, too. The more we chatted, the more we realized we had in common. I probably shared more with Lucy than anyone else.” She peered inside her egg mayo sandwich, curling her lip. That crinkly leaf of arugula had to go.

  “Isn’t that a bit weird, though?” Olivia narrowed her eyes and sipped her coconut water. “How can you really know someone online?”

  Alex nibbled her sandwich. “I think online friends often know you best.”

  She offered her crisps to Olivia, who instinctively shook her head no. “I’ve spent so much time online discussing things that matter to me, what touches my heart. Sometimes the people dearest to you aren’t the ones you see every day. Sometimes your besties are at the end of an Internet connection, smiling in solidarity over a new film trailer or geeky t-shirt design.”

  Alex glanced over Olivia’s shoulder and grinned, spotting her old friend laughing with a customer near the apples. “I’ve never had to explain myself to Lucy. She just gets it. She gets how you can love something or someone so much it physically hurts. We have fangirl shorthand.”

  “Fangirl? Like One Direction fans…aren’t you a bit old for that?”

  Alex stifled a laugh. “Fangirls span all ages. Sure, there’s the boy band type—all teenage hormones and squeeing—I’ve been there, but the older you get, it changes. We don’t scream or stalk, but we still have a blast as fans. A new film clip, meme or collectable can make my day. I think people who aren’t fans don’t get that. But the coolest thing about fandom is the friendships made along the way with people who share your passions.”

  Olivia swallowed a bite of sushi. “I’ve always had plenty of real friends, so I’ve never had to search for kindred spirits elsewhere. I suppose if you’re feeling like an outsider or have unique interests, the Internet can help you connect with like-minded individuals.”

  “Exactly. We’ve always wanted to meet. We just didn’t have the means.”

  Alex loved talking about Lucy but could sense she was losing her audience. “Those playwriting programs you mentioned before, how do they work? I need to hit the ground running. A year will fly by quickly, so every day needs to count.”

  The brunette nodded. “I’ll email you the details. There’s a website that lists a lot of the programs and workshops available. And if you ever want another pair of eyes to look over your work in progress, just let me know.”

  Alex’s jaw dropped. “Would you? Olivia, that would be fantastic. If you could give my suffragette play a read through, I’d really value your opinion.”

  “Happy to.” Olivia crumpled up her napkin and stuffed it inside her empty sushi container. “I might have some time later before Harry and I go out—”

  “That would be fab.” Alex added her empty sandwich box to the pile of trash on their silver tray. “There’s a hard copy sitting on top of my laptop bag. The cover is marked with date stamps and professor’s comments. You can’t miss it. I’ll be busy with Lucy for a few hours, so you won’t have me snooping over your shoulder.”

  “And on that note, I’ll leave you to it.” Olivia held the hem of her dress and pivoted gracefully off her chair. “Check Facebook. I sent you a friend request.” She gathered her shopping bags. “Your Wonder Woman profile photo threw me; I had to stare at it to make sure it was really you. I’ll see you back at the flat tonight.”

  “Absolutely. And…thanks for today, Olivia.”

  Without a second thought, Alex opened her Facebook app and accepted the request.

  Seven

  At six o’clock, the Pret staff began to pack away the day’s remaining sandwiches, cookies, and salads, destined for their charitable program that feeds London’s hungry and homeless. Lucy sauntered out from behind the counter, stuffing her hat, and white and burgundy Pret shirt into her beat-up satchel. Her wild curls skimmed her shoulders, and her eyes—always smiling, even when her mouth wasn’t—danced when she said goodbye to her coworkers. Alex wasn’t surprised that Lucy’s off-duty wardrobe consisted of faded jeans and an Iron Man t-shirt. Some things never change.

  “Hiya!” She hugged Alex. “I never thought I’d be leaving tonight with you by my side.”

  “Tell me about it. Do you work here every weekend?”

  Lucy held the door open for Alex and her abundance of shopping bags. “It’s a total fluke you found me here. I started at Pret’s head office in Victoria as the Operations Manager’s PA two weeks ago. Part of the training includes in-store shifts, so you learn how the products are made, how customers are given the ‘Pret experience’, and all that jazz. Today’s my last in-shop session.”

  “See?” Alex laughed and playfully smacked Lucy’s legs with her bags. “That makes our meeting even more incredible. Someone wanted us to meet. I just knew the sun shining this morning was a sign that something good was gonna happen today.”

  “Something good? More like something fucking awesome.” Lucy stuck her arm into one of Alex’s bags, partially pulling out a navy blue dress with a scalloped neckline from Club Monaco. “Look at all this stuff. Win the lottery?”

  “I wish. The airline lost my luggage.”

  “Fuck, no. I would freak if that happened to me…” Lucy stopped, her eyes scanning the King’s Road. “Wait, do you fancy a drink? I’m dying for one, and I bet you’ve worked up a thirst exercising your credit card.”

  “Bring it,” said Alex.

  “Stake a claim on the couch. I’ll get the drinks in.” Lucy helped Alex tuck her bags under the wood table and skipped back towards the bar.

  She whooped it up with the Fox and Hounds bartender like he was an old friend. Lucy was always extroverted and bubbly over email and Skype. Thank goodness her online and real life personalities mirrored one another. Sometimes meeting online friends in the flesh is like encountering a stranger. The most outgoing, hilarious person online ends up being a shy shell of a soul who squeaks out four-word sentences, or the sweet, caring person on Twitter tran
sforms into a rude, know-it-all—or worse. But being with Lucy felt easy and familiar. No stranger danger here.

  Lucy returned with a pint for herself, a vodka and orange for Alex, and packets of pork scratchings, and cheese and onion crisps.

  “This place is perfect for my first drink in London. It’s so cozy.” Alex’s eyes skimmed the red walls, paintings of hunting scenes, and chocolate brown floorboards. “Exactly what I imagined a London pub would look like.”

  Lucy whipped out her phone. “We have to document our first drink together. Ready? Say ‘I Am Sher-locked’.” Alex held her drink aloft and grinned widely beside her long-lost friend.

  She tore open a crisp packet. “These chip bags are so small compared to ours in the States. Where are the rest of them? Seriously, you’d have to scarf down six British chip packages to equal one American bag.”

  Lucy raised her glass for a ‘cheers’ with Alex. “Listen to you. Chips…that’s a different thing over here.”

  “I’ve been juggling all the different names. I’ll never blend in if I keep calling crisps, ‘chips’, and flats, ‘apartments’. Once an outsider, always an outsider. You’d never know my dad’s British.”

  “And so are you. Accent aside, you’re one of us.” Lucy popped the pork scratchings open. Her eyes widened at the crisp bag in Alex’s hand. “Oh shit. Sorry. Creature of habit. Freddie’s a cheese and onion addict. I buy that flavour automatically. Hope I didn’t poison you.”

  Crumbs coated Alex’s fingers. “Nope. I inhaled them.” She showed Lucy the bag’s shiny interior.

  “You have to meet Freddie. You’ll love him.”

  “He’s got great taste in crisps—and friends—I’m sure I will,” said Alex.

  “He’s my gay bezzie mate. We get into all sorts of geeky trouble together. That’s how we met. In 2011, waiting for the X-Men: First Class red carpet arrivals…James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender. God, Fassbender’s so freaking hot. They were both great about us taking lots of selfies. That was a night I’ll never forget.”

  “I remember seeing photos on your Facebook page two years back…didn’t you meet Daniel Radcliffe at a film premiere or something?” asked Alex.

  “That was the 2012 BAFTAs red carpet at the Royal Opera House. Our film awards, yeah, we camped out for hours. So worth it.”

  “I’d love to do that.”

  “Stick with us, kid. You’ll see all your favourites,” said Lucy. “We’ve got a brilliant track record. My most recent selfie’s with your favourite, at least I think he’s still your favourite…Ben Whishaw? A bird pooped on my jeans about thirty minutes before I ran into him on the street. Talk about a superstition paying off.”

  “Really? Ben! So lucky. I hope you cleaned yourself up before you met him.”

  Lucy laughed. “What do you take me for?” She quickly scrolled through the photos on her phone, searching for him. “There he is.”

  Alex smiled at the image of Lucy and the actor snapped on an East London street. “Aw, Whishy. I adore Ben so much.”

  “I practically wet myself. It was sweet of him to stop like that,” said Lucy.

  “If I could cast actors in a play, he’d top my list,” said Alex. “It’s a shame some people only know him from the Bond films… and look at his hair. It’s always epic.”

  “Isn’t it? He’s surprisingly shy in real life, though.” Lucy swigged her pint. “This makes me happy. Two years on, you’re still crushing hard on the same actors. So loyal, not switching to the flavour of the month…I really should reactivate my Facebook and Instagram accounts, get myself back online.”

  “Do it. I’ve missed your pop culture posts. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d be disgustingly envious. I remember you posting photos of your old ticket stubs from concerts too. So how many times did you see the Arctic Monkeys in the end?”

  “Nine times,” said Lucy. “Yeah, I went a bit mad there for a while. Dancing my face off, letting the music sweep away my worries…I also got into Years & Years, big time.”

  “Whishy’s in their Real video. I don’t know much else about them, though,” said Alex.

  “They’re brilliant. I’ll make sure you’re properly schooled in the best Brit bands…but before I forget, I’ve been dying to ask…who was that girl with you in Pret? I don’t mean to sound nasty, but what are you doing with Little Miss Snooty?”

  Same old Lucy, never mincing words. Alex smirked. “Olivia? I met her yesterday. She’s the girlfriend of my friend Harry from Emory. I’m staying in his flat in Hackney for a few months.”

  Alex sipped her drink. “But never mind her, what’s new with you? Last we were in touch…well, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you…”

  Lucy stared straight ahead and picked at a damp beer mat. “My world collapsed. Nothing else mattered except Gran’s cancer diagnosis. I stopped drawing, dropped out of my animation course at uni—Gran was so upset about that, but I wanted to look after her. I went into full-on caregiver mode.”

  “I don’t know how you coped,” said Alex. “It was always you and her against the world, right?”

  “Yeah, more so than ever. My shitty excuse for a boyfriend dumped me because I wasn’t there for him all the time.” She tossed torn shreds of the beer mat onto the table. “Such a selfish fucker.”

  “He didn’t!” Alex spluttered on her drink. “Well, you’re better off without him.” She laid a hand on Lucy’s back. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve tried harder to stay in touch. I just didn’t know what to say.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I vanished. One day I had Facebook and Twitter accounts. The next, they were gone. I just couldn’t deal with anything but Gran at the time. I felt so bad, disappearing without telling you how bad things were. I’ve never forgiven myself. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

  Gentle tears swelled in her brown eyes. “Things went from bad to worse. They said she’d have a year, but she only made it to six months.”

  Alex pulled her friend into an embrace. “Oh Lucy, I prayed for her to get better. I wanted to see how you were doing, but I was afraid to intrude. It was a stupid, naive decision on my part. I should have been there for you.” She dug some tissues out of her bag for Lucy and tightened her hug.

  Lucy dabbed her eyes. “I was a mess. And then there’s all this stuff you have to take care of when someone dies. I wasn’t prepared for any of it. I was only twenty. What did I know about dealing with wills, making funeral arrangements? And relatives you haven’t seen for years, claiming what they believe is theirs. It was bad enough losing Gran’s flat in Upton Park and being forced to find a new place to liv—”

  Alex jumped in, loosening her hug. “Did your mom show up?”

  “Thankfully, no. I wouldn’t recognize her if she did, it’s been so long. But my aunt showed, sniffing around like a rat for any tasty crumbs left behind by the mother she couldn’t bother to visit. So pathetic.” She blew her nose. “Freddie was a lifesaver. He stayed with me afterwards…until I got turfed from the flat.”

  “Thank God he was there, Lucy. It’s about time someone looked after you for a change.”

  “He’s the best. I don’t know what I did to deserve him. Now I can’t get rid!” Lucy laughed and wiped her eyes. “Now I just want to enjoy my friends and my new job. I’m done with drama for a while, you know? Bring on normal life for a change.”

  “Are you drawing again?” Alex pulled the straw from her lips. “Your hands! They were always covered with ink when we’d chat on Skype.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I haven’t even looked at a sketchbook for at least a year. With everything that’s gone on, I’ve kinda lost my passion for it.” She shrugged. “And it’s hard getting back into the starving student routine when you’re used to a regular pay packet. Never say never, though…”

  She sipped her pint. “So that’s me all caught up. Please tell me that I’m the only sad sack around here? I hope the last two years have been kinder to you.” She touched Alex’s ha
ir. “I love the shorter ‘do.”

  “Thanks. New hair, new start.”

  “So who’s this Harry? Have you snogged?” Lucy winked. “And what happened to that bloke from your theatre class… Damon, Davin…what was his name?”

  “Devin Lockhart. Yeah, I met him at the start of my freshman year.”

  “Go on. Spill.”

  Alex’s voice went quiet with a slight smile. “He was lovely. Six foot tall, a year older than me, deep blue eyes. He wasn’t the cutest guy in my theatre studies class, but he had this gentle, centred way about him. He wasn’t arrogant or showy like some acting students, and he always knew how to make me laugh.”

  She slowly spun her glass around with her fingers. “Living away from home for the first time, we leaned on each other for support and friendship. He was there for me during some tough moments. His parents were dead set against him being an actor, just like my mom hated my playwriting aspirations. For the first time, I was in sync with someone and didn’t have to explain why I was so keen on this unstable career. He did a lot of community theatre in his spare time, and I wrote a play for his acting group. We clicked on so many levels.”

  “Did you fall hard?”

  Alex nodded. “Completely. My schoolwork began to suffer. I was totally infatuated with him. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, not to mention sleep with him. So I decided not to torture myself any longer, dove into the pool feet first. I made the first move.”

  “You? Seriously?”

  “I did! There was no way I was letting another theatre student snap him up. That first kiss, though … it seared through me. It took every ounce of my strength not to tear his clothes off on the spot. Thank goodness we were in a crowded bar.”

  Lucy laughed. “The perils of being a virgin. All that sexual energy aching to be released.”