Lucy opened her eyes with a start on Saturday morning, looking at the clock on her bedside table in panic. 9.55 a.m. Yikes! she thought, that gave her one hour and ten minutes till she had to go. She jumped out of bed and went through the motions of preparing her breakfast: bagel in the toaster, kettle on for the coffee, while simultaneously running around the flat, tidying up frantically in preparation for a potential visitor later that night. She gathered old newspapers, magazines and junk mail into a huge pile and shoved it into the recycling bin. She put shoes away, coats on the correct pegs, and wiped down all the surfaces. She ran her duster around the TV and over the mantelpiece, plumping up the cushions with one hand as she munched her bagel in the other. Satisfied with the house makeover, she turned her attention to herself. Stripping off her cotton nightie and throwing it into the laundry basket, she selected a sexy negligee from her underwear drawer in a blue-green teal colour and laid it on her bed, ready for later.
Lucy stepped over to the long mirror in preparation for Step One: The Body, and examined her naked form. She was an hourglass shape with a substantial bust and shapely bum. She tried her best to embrace her curves but it wasn’t always easy, especially with a best friend like Claudia who was naturally skinny and had always looked amazing in a bikini. Lucy battled with herself on a daily basis to try and stop any negative thoughts from raising their ugly heads. She tried to reassure herself that a little bit of extra padding was nice for a guy, after all she couldn’t think of much worse than someone’s hip bones jutting into you at an inopportune moment. The smattering of cellulite on the back of her legs was a genetic curse inherited from her mother on which no amount of running, treatments, creams or dry-brushing seemed to have the slightest impact. Lucy tried her best not to think about the more unsightly parts of her body, choosing to focus on the good bits instead, like the seductive line that ran over her hip bone and into her waist like an ancient marble sculpture.
Focussing on the task in hand, Lucy realized that she needed to start the depilatory procedure a.s.a.p. As she got older the process seemed to get lengthier with the increasing amount of hair that seemed to sprout from ever more unexpected parts of her body. She plucked her eyebrows and then jumped in the shower, shaving any remaining hairs, including her bikini line. She was fed up with spending thirty quid every month on an excruciating Brazilian wax and hadn’t had time, frankly, to get around to it recently, so shaving would have to do.
She washed and conditioned her hair, lathered her whole body in foam burst shower gel and finally stepped out of the shower to rub her body down with a towel, spraying a mist of moisturizer over herself.
Having dried her hair and run her straighteners through the ends and especially through her fringe, she embarked on stage two: The Face. She primed, bronzed and buffed her skin before paying careful attention to her eyes, ringing them with smoky eyeliner and coating her lashes with mascara. Working her way methodically through her usual routine was extremely satisfying.
She dressed in black jeans and a bright blue silky top, carefully selected in Topshop on her lunch break yesterday to match the exact colour of her eyes. She flung her leather jacket around her shoulders, admiring the total effect of the makeover. She felt pleased with her reflection and smiled to herself as she sprayed her perfume generously in a cloud in front of her, stepping through it to ensure an even coating.
Checking the time, she saw the clock had just gone past eleven so she grabbed her handbag, stuffing in some emergency make-up along with her mobile. As she gave the flat a final once-over, she noticed a magazine lying open on the sofa at an article entitled ‘How to win your man.’ Squealing with embarrassment at the thought of Alex seeing that later, she quickly shoved it on the shelf before closing the front door behind her, clattering down the stairs in her heeled boots out on to Mayfield Road.
Lucy took the District line all the way to Tower Hill, one of the best sightseeing spots in the city, with the mystic old Tower of London to the right and the famous Tower Bridge rearing majestically out over the Thames to the left. She walked under the pathway linking the Tower to St Katherine’s Docks behind her, sidestepping bundles of tourists and their cameras as she made her way to Tower Bridge. As she reached the south side of the river and headed to Borough Market, she phoned Alex to find out where he was. He tried to explain his whereabouts but the hordes of people made it virtually impossible to pin him down. They played a game of hide-and-seek trying to locate each other amidst the crowds. Eventually catching sight of him by a little cafe selling macaroons and hot chocolate, she headed towards him.
‘Hi!’ she said.
‘Hello there!’ said Alex, kissing her on the lips, sending a thrill of shivers down her spine, and handing her a raspberry macaroon the size of a small Frisbee.
‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘they are amazing! You have to try one.’
‘Pudding before lunch… I see!’ laughed Lucy. Obliging, she bit into the crumbly sweetness, the gooey middle dissolving on her tongue, sharp with the flavour of raspberries.
‘Mmmm, you’re right. That is heavenly!’ Lucy said, offering him a bite. ‘It’s not the best weather today, sadly,’ she complained, looking up at the dull sky.
‘I know, but apparently it’s going to brighten up later,’ said Alex optimistically.
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t rain, there isn’t much cover around here,’ said Lucy, steering him into the market. ‘Have you been here before?’ she asked.
‘A few times,’ said Alex. ‘I don’t know why I don’t come here more often to be honest.’
‘It’s a real treasure,’ said Lucy. ‘Though it’s slightly ruined by the tourists nowadays. And the prices are not exactly cheap!’ she laughed as she picked up a stick of dried salami that cost £13.99.
‘Wow!’ said Alex. ‘That better be some seriously good sausage!’
There were hundreds of stalls bustling with activity, selling freshly made produce and huge vats of hot food, from chorizo and prawn paella to hoi sin duck noodles. They marvelled at all the mouth-watering dishes, their senses inundated by the tantalizing aromas pervading the air.
‘Where is this burger stall?’ asked Alex.
‘It’s somewhere around here,’ replied Lucy, trying to remember which of the many twists and turns would lead them to the correct place.
‘Aha!’ said Alex, catching sight of the burger van.
‘Here we are!’ said Lucy, pleased they had managed to find it after a momentary panic that it was no longer there.
‘I’m never going to be able to choose!’ moaned Alex as he surveyed the options chalked up on the blackboard next to the van.
After several minutes of indecision, they ordered their lunch and then found an old stone wall to perch on while they devoured it, licking their fingers and laughing at their unsightly table manners.
‘God, you are right… this is hands down the best burger I have ever had!’ laughed Alex, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.
‘I told you!’ said Lucy mid mouthful. ‘Best burgers in London.’
When they had finished their lunch they pottered around the market. Lucy bought a bag of fudge in all different flavours, from cinnamon to chilli peppers, and they aimed for the Thames Path, heading back over the bridge to the Tower of London, taking it in turns to choose a piece of fudge and guess at the flavour as they walked.
‘I think the Tower of London has to be one of my favourite buildings,’ said Alex. ‘I love the history.’
‘I still remember going to visit the crown jewels with my granny when I was little,’ said Lucy. ‘I loved all the Beefeaters in their traditional dress.’
‘It’s a seriously random nickname, “Beefeater”,’ mused Alex.
‘True. I wonder where it came from,’ added Lucy as they neared the ancient landmark.
When they reached the side of the Tower overlooking the dry moat, Lucy and Alex gasped in unison. A sweeping display of red poppies ebbed from one of the castle windows like blood seeping thickly from a wound. Artists were hard at work installing what appeared to be a war memorial.
‘What is going on?’ asked Alex.
‘I’ve got no idea…’ said Lucy. ‘It’s beautiful!’ She whipped out her iPhone and googled it to find out what was happening. ‘Oh my goodness… how amazing. This is in memory of the First World War, they are going to fill the moat with ceramic poppies. Each poppy represents a soldier whose life was lost.’
‘How incredible,’ said Alex.
‘There are going to be nearly 900,000 poppies altogether.’
‘Unbelievable,’ said Alex. ‘There must be several thousand already… it will be breathtaking when it is finished.’
It was a sobering sight; each life represented by one hand-crafted, lovingly made poppy, standing in the grass and nestling against the golden bricks. Lucy was moved to tears at the thought of the sacrifice they symbolized. Alex stood behind her and she allowed herself to lean back into him, feeling the comfort of his presence. They stayed there in quiet contemplation as they watched the artists work, before moving further along the moat. They shared stories about their grandparents and what they had done in the war. Lucy’s paternal grandmother had worked at Bletchley Park on the Enigma machines, something she was extremely proud of. Alex’s grandfather had flown in the air force and had sadly lost his life at the age of twenty-eight when his plane was shot down, making the memorial even more poignant for him.
Afterwards Lucy took Alex to a nearby church. ‘This is called All Hallows,’ she said. ‘It’s the oldest church in the City of London.’
‘It’s lovely,’ said Alex, wondering around the church and admiring the stained glass windows, the paintings and statues that lined the walls.
‘Alex, come over her,’ said Lucy, beckoning him to a little staircase at the back of the church.
‘What’s down here?’ he asked.
‘There’s a secret underground chapel in the crypt,’ said Lucy as they climbed down the staircase to find a little museum crammed full of ancient artefacts. Alex was fascinated as he explored the church, imagining all the beheaded bodies from the Tower that were brought here awaiting burial to be cared for by the clergy.
Blinking as they made their way back into daylight, the sun pushing through the clouds, Lucy asked, ‘What would you like to do now?’
‘How about the South Bank?’ suggested Alex, so they looped back over Southwark Bridge and walked along the pathway overlooking the river. It was buzzing with both Londoners and tourists enjoying the buskers and book stalls, the open-air bars and the many street entertainers. They pottered around the various stalls, stopping to laugh at the performers. They sat for a while on a bench overlooking the river, just as the sun made an appearance through a gap in the clouds. The city sparkled under the rays of light and Lucy felt her spirits soar.
‘I don’t know about you,’ said Alex, ‘but all this walking has made me extremely thirsty.’
‘I could murder a glass of wine!’ agreed Lucy.
‘Follow me,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve got just the place in mind.’
They crossed the river at Embankment and settled in the underground vaults of a famous wine bar. A long-established watering hole for the city, each little table was nestled in a small candlelit cavern; it was a very romantic spot. Alex ordered them a bottle of red of a particularly good vintage and they sat there chatting, slowly getting drunk whilst nibbling on a platter of cheese.
After the second bottle, they found themselves leaning close together as they talked, their heads almost touching. With no inhibitions left, Alex’s hand had found a resting place on Lucy’s thigh. Normally at this point she would have started to worry about whether he thought her thighs were fat, but not tonight. She felt so comfortable in his presence that she just didn’t care. He moved his hand ever so slightly further up her leg, igniting a flame of desire so powerful in Lucy that it left her breathless. He bent to kiss her and whispered in her ear, ‘I think we had better get out of here, don’t you?’
Lucy nodded, unable to speak.
Alex paid the bill and they made their way out onto Villiers Street, heading up to the main road to flag a taxi.
In the back of the black cab, they sat pressed up close to each other; Alex’s hand remained firmly on her thigh. As the taxi pulled up outside her house, she fumbled in her bag for her keys, her hands unsteady. Alex paid the taxi driver and followed her up the steps, admiring her house from the outside as he did so. She led him up the three flights of stairs and groped at the lock, scrabbling with her keys to open it, his body pressing closely behind her as she did so. As the door sprang open, she stepped in, feeling suddenly nervous, as though she had forgotten what to do next. She mumbled something about ‘Home, sweet, home,’ and laughed nervously.
‘Would you like another glass of wine?’ she asked.
Alex shut the door behind him, slowly taking off his coat. He said, ‘No, I don’t want a glass of wine, thank you.’
He was so handsome standing there, such a huge presence in her small flat, she felt quite overwhelmed at the sight of him. She took off her jacket and her bag as he stood there, watching her, his eyes dark and gleaming.
Just as she thought she would burst with longing, he crossed the room and took her in his arms, kissing her passionately, no longer holding back, showing her exactly how much he wanted her. She lay on the sofa feeling the heavy weight of him on top of her, her body fizzing and tingling with longing. He took off her silk shirt and kissed her neck, trailing kisses along her collarbone, making her squirm underneath him. He stroked her cheeks and ran his fingers through her hair. She groaned with pleasure as he moved his attention to the top of her jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them over her hips, continuing with his slow, exquisite torture. They lost themselves in each other, moving in perfect synchronicity, before collapsing in an exhausted, sweaty heap, their limbs tangled.
‘That was amazing,’ Alex said afterwards, kissing her tenderly on the lips.
Lucy grinned, stretching luxuriously, ‘Yes, it most definitely was!’
Alex said, ‘I hope you haven’t got any plans tomorrow, because I am not letting you leave until we have done that again, and again… and again… and again…’
Lucy laughed and said nonchalantly, ‘Oh well, if we must…’ receiving a playful nudge from Alex, before taking his hand and leading him into her bedroom.