Chapter47
Sunny
Iwas shattered. It had been a long day with very little sleep the night before, so climbing into bed at half nine on a weekend evening didn’t feel like the crime it might have. I’d drunk myself sober at Dav and Nick’s place, and now I just wanted to sleep. Still hot from my shower, hair still damp, dressed in my favourite slouchy sleeping pants, I slid down into the covers, put my phone on charge on the bedside table, and turned off the lamp. A firework went off outside, then half a dozen more. I was just about to get up to look for the earplugs I had saved from a holiday to Benidorm when the GayHoller chime rang out from my phone. The notification illuminated the room.
GayHoller:Cabbage98 has sent you a message.
I sat bolt upright in the bed. I wanted to check the message, but my fingers no longer seemed to work. It took several goes to open it.
Cabbage98:Hey. Can we talk?
I considered not answering, but Ludo would know that I’d seen the message already. I thought about what Nick had said. I thought about how miserable today had been and how much I really didn’t want to be fighting with Ludo. I thought about the fact that… HOLY CRAP CABBAGE98 IS THREE METRES AWAY. I jumped out of bed and flung open the curtain. Sitting in the bus stop, staring up at my window, was Ludo Boche. He waved, his adorable little face all sad and sorry. He was wearing the blue hoodie I’d left at his house. I waved back. Then he gestured for me to come outside, and in my excitement, I dashed out my bedroom door, tore down the stairs, and opened the door before realising, as the rush of cool evening air hit me, that I was still only wearing my underpants. Ludo’s eyes (metaphorically) boggled. I decided to style it out.
“How did you know where I lived?” I asked, leaning casually against the door frame with all the dignity I could muster, as if I’d meant to come out into the street in my pants, as if absolutely everyone did it. Ludo made the few short steps onto the porch.
“You said you lived above a bus stop on Willesden Lane.”
“Have you been standing outside every bus stop on this whole street checking GayHoller?”
“Call it investigative journalism?”
“Sounds better than stalking. Which is what this is, to be clear.”
“And Rosie was hanging out her window having a cig. So, I asked her which door was yours. That was about half an hour ago. I’ve been sitting here trying to pluck up the courage to knock.”
A couple of lads across the street wolf-whistled.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Ludo asked. “I don’t really want to do this in the street. While you’re in your pants.”
“Of course,” I said, stepping aside.
One of the lads across the street shouted, “How much for a BJ?”
“Subscribe to my OnlyFans,” I called back. “It’s free for incels.” It was braver than I felt. My door would probably be egged by morning. Who cared? Ludo was here.
“You have an OnlyFans?” Ludo said, when we were both safely inside.
“Of course,” I said. “How do you think I afford this place?” Right on cue, a strip of wallpaper unravelled itself from the hallway wall and curled up on the manky runner carpet. All we needed now was a knock on the door from a payday moneylender, or to find a couple of rats playing backgammon in the kitchen, and Ludo’s vision of life on the wrong side of Finchley Road would be complete.
“Can I get you a drink of something? I promise the mugs are cleaner than the kitchen.”
“Is there tea?”
“Of course there’s tea.”
“Earl Grey?”
I rolled my eyes. “I can spray deodorant on the English breakfast if you like?”
We walked through to the kitchen, and I put the kettle on. I was just about to dart upstairs to get dressed when Ludo started in on his apology.
“I’m so sorry. I was a total blethering idiot.”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“I think we’ve been a bit silly,” he said.
Ludo took a step towards me and grabbed my hands in his. They were warm and clammy, either from nerves or from being shoved too long in his pockets. His blue eyes searched mine. Then apologies and explanations tumbled out of us both, and before I knew it, I was wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. He smelt of strong tobacco, and I nuzzled my face into his hair and neck and his shirt collar in search of the usual scent of him. When I found it, I sucked it into my lungs like it was oxygen itself. I felt movement in my pants and was deeply conscious that I had nowhere to hide it. At least my flatmates were out. I kissed my way up Ludo’s neck and under his jaw and chin until my lips found his lips, and then we kissed and kissed and kissed like sixth-formers at a bus stop.
