Me: Where are you living while you’re doing all the publicity?
Otter: I’ve rented an apartment in London, and I have a long term let on a place in NYC, but that comes to an end just after Christmas. Time to buy a base here, I think, and maybe one in New York. I should really get somewhere in LA, but the thought fills me with horror.
Me: It would fill me with horror too.
Otter: *laughs* I can imagine. What’ve you been up to?
I was pretty sure I was now getting RSI from texting, so I rang her, hearing a peel of laughter as she answered the phone.
“Am I interrupting something?” I hoped to hell she wasn’t with another man.
The sudden sound of traffic told me she’d headed outside. “I’m just having cocktails with a school-friend. Lila Black. You may have heard of her.
I had. “The comedian?” Who most of the team had a huge crush on. She’d been in a comedy series about ten years ago about teenagers at school. Lila Black had played a character that all the lads fancied because she had huge tits.
“Yep. She was my bestie at school. We’re with her sister too, so don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned her.” She sounded happy, which was making me smile. “So what have you been up to?”
I told her about the shopping trip, loving how she laughed, answering the questions she had about Nate and the girls, and exactly what Libbie bought.
“I bet there’s a photo of you on social media somewhere. You, Nate, a pushchair and shopping queen Libbie. I bet the media will start a rumour about the two of you.” Her laughter sounded like bells.
“Let them. Where are you?”
She mentioned a cocktail bar I’d heard of because it was one of the places to hangout in London. There was then the sound of another woman’s voice, urging her to go back in.
“Otter, go back in with your friends. I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Or something.” I added the or something, not wanting her to feel pressured because we weren’t in a relationship. We didn’t have to speak to each other every day.
I heard her telling someone she’d be back in a minute. “Sorry, Ry. I think we’re heading off to get food. Can I catch you later?”
“Sure. Have a good night.”
It felt weird hanging up. I stared at my phone for a minute afterwards and then I gave in.
Me: Have a good night.
Two minutes later, she responded.
Otter: Xxx
Any chance of falling asleep was interrupted by the annoying bleeping of my phone just after midnight. I scrambled round for it, hoping to see Otter’s name flashing up, even though she’d already sent me a couple of texts when she got in.
It wasn’t her.
Lotte was eight hours ahead, a fact she often forgot. Most of the time I silenced my phone, knowing she would call me anytime she had an issue, which wasn’t that often.
I stared at the screen, debating whether to answer or not, and sighing at myself when I did.
“Hey.” I tried to drum up some enthusiasm at speaking to her. “You okay?”
I heard typing on a keyboard, the usual pause before she’d realised I’d answered. “Hey, yeah. It’s our anniversary.”
“Lotte, do you know what time it is here?” My tone was loaded with exhaustion.
“Shit! Sorry, Ryan. I forgot. You know, it will be a lot easier for us to communicate when you move over here.”
“I’m not moving over there. What anniversary is it?” I had no idea. I didn’t have much energy for this either.
“Of when we broke up. Remember?”
