Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lucy woke up on Monday morning after a restless night, mostly spent reliving every moment she’d spent with Nate, and trying to work out what the tattoo on his arm signified about his feelings for her.
He’d clearly preserved the letters she’d written in marker pen, but why?
And when? It had to be in the few days afterwards, otherwise the pen would have faded too much for the tattoo artist to get an exact match.
But he’d also been actively trying to hide it for the five months since, so maybe he was already having tattoo regret.
It all felt quite confusing, but Lucy’s instinct told her that it had to be a good thing.
By the time she’d eaten toast with her parents and waved them off to work, she’d come to the inevitable conclusion that the only person who was going to help her get in touch with Nate was Sasha.
She’d grudgingly discounted Alex, on the basis she have to go via Willem, who she’d exchanged a handful of messages with since Zermatt but definitely wasn’t a close enough friend for awkward favours.
So, whilst she was packing up her stuff to head home to Bristol, she bit the bullet and messaged her.
Hey Sasha, can we meet? If Lucy was going to beg for Sasha’s help to win the love of a man they’d both slept with, she’d much rather do it over coffee in London or Bristol. Woman to woman, no messing about.
Yes, of course, came the reply. Message Olly and he’ll put some time in for later this week.
Ouch, thought Lucy. She could feel the dismissal from however many miles away Sasha was right now, like a bug being swatted with a tea towel. She sighed and started to type another message, then deleted it and called her instead.
‘Hello, Lucy,’ said Sasha’s voice. ‘I thought you had a day off today.’
‘I do,’ said Lucy, trying to keep her voice light and breezy. ‘I was actually hoping you could give me Nate’s new number?’
There was silence for a few seconds, then the sound of a door being closed. ‘I can’t do that without his permission, obviously,’ said Sasha coolly. ‘The best I can do is tell him you asked, and then he can message you.’
‘Right,’ said Lucy.
‘I don’t think it will be anytime soon, though. He’s in the studio right now. Rehearsing for the tour.’
The implication from Sasha was clear – I’m still an influence in Nate’s life, and you’re not. Lucy swallowed down her disappointment and kept her voice strong. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘If you could let him know I called, I’d appreciate it. I need to speak to him pretty urgently.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Sasha, giving the impression that Lucy probably shouldn’t hold her breath.
‘Give Kristoff my love.’ Sasha hung up before Lucy could answer, leaving her feeling like she’d made zero progress.
What now? she thought, itching to do something that would help her feel like she was getting closer to her goal, somehow.
The exact nature of that goal was less clear, but she would worry about that later.
She clicked back to Nate’s TikTok from yesterday, and sure enough, there was footage of him walking through a door next to a sign for Fountain Road Studios.
She googled it, and found the address in Dalston in East London.
Before she had a chance to change her mind, she was closing her parents’ front door and hurrying up the hill to Purley train station, and an appointment with .
. . destiny? Madness? More frustration? Something that didn’t feel like lead boots, anyway.
When she arrived at the studio there was a crowd of fans outside, eyeing her beadily as she elbowed her way to the door, and clearly wondering if she was going to gain access where they had not.
She pressed the doorbell and waited, trying to look nonchalant when her heart was pounding out of her chest.
‘Fountain Studios,’ said a woman’s voice.
‘Hi,’ said Lucy into the intercom, aware that every single person was listening. ‘I’m here to see Nate Lambert?’
‘What’s your name, please?’
‘Lucy Glover. I’m a . . . friend.’
‘Right,’ said the woman, with a tone that suggested she’d heard all this before. ‘Is he expecting you? You’re not on the list.’
‘Not exactly,’ said Lucy.
‘Mmm, right,’ said the tinny voice of the woman. ‘I can’t let you in.’
‘Can you give him a message? Tell him I’m here?’
‘No, I can’t do that either. Sorry.’ The intercom line went dead.
Lucy pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, conscious that twenty people were hanging on every word of this conversation and willing her to fail. She pressed the bell again and waited longer this time.
‘What now?’ snapped the woman’s voice.
‘Is Alex Jansen there?’
‘Yes,’ said the voice sarkily. ‘Is he a friend too?’
‘Yes, he is,’ said Lucy firmly. ‘Can you please tell him that Lucy Glover is here. Say Lucy from Zermatt. He’ll know what that means.’
‘He’s in a meeting,’ said the voice.
‘Then interrupt,’ said Lucy, starting to lose patience. ‘He won’t mind. But he WILL mind if you’ve left me standing out here all day.’
The line went dead again, and Lucy waited, avoiding eye contact with the fans glaring her down from the pavement. After what seemed like an age, the door unlocked and a resentful-looking woman appeared.
‘You Lucy?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy, as half a dozen other women leaned forward, looking like they might also declare themselves to be Lucy in an I’m Spartacus chorus.
‘Come in,’ said the woman, opening the door enough for Lucy to slide through, then firmly closing it again. ‘Sorry about making you wait, I had to check with Alex. People try all kinds, no offence.’
‘None taken,’ said Lucy. ‘I guess you’ve seen it all.’
‘Yep,’ said the woman, who had a slightly world-weary air despite probably not being a day over twenty-five.
‘The TikTok stars definitely have the craziest fans. There were loads more of them earlier, when Nate arrived. They’ll all be back later, but there’s always a hardcore group who hang around all day. It’s mad.’
She led Lucy to a reception area with a sofa and a couple of plastic chairs, then left her with a vague, ‘Wait here, Alex will come down.’ There was no coffee, so Lucy filled a plastic cup from the water dispenser and hoped her hands would stop shaking.
‘Lucy!’ said Alex, bursting into the room and pulling her into a hug. She closed her eyes and leaned in to him, then opened them to see that he was being trailed down the stairs by . . . Sasha. Shit.
‘Hello, Lucy.’ Sasha’s expression suggested she’d stepped in something unpleasant. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was hoping to see Nate,’ Lucy replied, giving Sasha a challenging look.
‘I thought we agreed that I’d give him your message,’ said Sasha coolly.
‘And have you done that?’ asked Lucy, raising her eyebrows. Alex followed the conversation warily, and Lucy wondered what he would do if a catfight started. Video it, probably.
‘No, Lucy, I haven’t,’ said Sasha through gritted teeth. ‘Nate has been in tour rehearsals all morning, and me saying, “Hey, can you give Lucy a call?” isn’t going to help him stay focused.’
‘He’s in a good place, Lucy,’ added Alex. ‘We need to keep him there.’ The two of them had a tag-team vibe, like they’d just held an emergency meeting and agreed how to get rid of Lucy as quickly as possible.
Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means no drama, no distractions. The UK tour starts in three days. Now isn’t the time for surprise visits from old friends.’ Lucy registered the ‘old friends’, even though Alex knew what had happened between Lucy and Nate in Zermatt. It was clearly for Sasha’s benefit.
‘He’s emotionally fragile,’ said Sasha. ‘Small things, changes of direction, unexpected surprises – they can all make him spiral. But you already know that. He’s going through a lot right now.’
‘Yes, but he’s also a grown man. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But can we at least give him the option?’
‘Yes, but not now,’ said Alex pleadingly. ‘Please. It’s not personal, I’m keeping everyone away right now. Three weeks of touring UK venues, then some time out for him to write some new stuff before he goes to Europe in October. Right now, the UK tour is the only thing he needs to think about.’
‘Ask yourself if whatever you want to talk about is going to simplify his life right now,’ said Sasha, and Lucy’s heart sank.
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Probably not.’ She wondered what Nate had told Sasha when he got the tattoo. Had he made something up, or had that been the first crack in their relationship?
‘Why are you even here, Sasha?’ she asked. ‘I thought Nate had moved out of your place?’ She’s having just as much trouble letting go as I am, thought Lucy. But if I have to go into battle for Nate, I’d rather know exactly where things stand between him and Sasha.
‘He might have moved out, Lucy,’ said Sasha, tossing her hair. ‘But I’m still his mother.’
There were a couple of seconds where Lucy’s mind went entirely blank, then Sasha’s words flashed through her brain in technicolour neon.
‘His what?’