Page 61 of A Sky Painted Gold

Al spreads her hands in front of her. “I’m not her keeper,” she says.

“I think if you could just get us a taxi, we’ll get out of your way,” I interrupt, focusing only on getting Caitlin home as quickly as possible.

“I told you, I’ll take you,” Lucky says, and without another word he stomps over and lifts Caitlin into his arms as though she weighs nothing at all. Her blonde head lolls against his chest and she opens her eyes.

“Freddy?” she murmurs, and her arm curls up around his neck, before her eyes shut again.

Lucky’s mouth is still pressed together in a firm line. “Let’s go,” he says as he carries Caitlin towards the stairs. There is nothing for me to do but grab our bags and scurry after him.

“Thank you,” I mutter to Al as I pass.

“Come again,” she says serenely, her eyes on Lucky’s back.

Lucky strides outside to where a beaten-up silver car is parked with its hood down. It is in such bad shape that it makes Gerald look like a luxury Rolls-Royce. Lucky lifts Caitlin into the passenger seat and gives me a weak smile. “It goes OK,” he says, “it just looks a mess. Are you all right in the back?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, jumping in. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

He doesn’t say anything, just slides in behind the wheel. As he has promised the car starts without complaint and runs smoothly. It seems as if Lucky knows where he is going and I am relieved by this, as I have no idea.

I sit back in my seat, feeling fingers of cool night air ruffling my hair. After the heat and the noise of the club it is something of a relief. The roads are dark and almost deserted, and street lamps burn with a smudgy golden light that makes the world seem as though it is in soft focus. I fight a sudden yawn. It has been a long night. And it isn’t over yet, I remind myself.

Finally, I am relieved to see a road I recognize, and we pull up outside Caitlin’s house. Diving in her bag, I pull out her key and trip up the stairs first, fumbling with the lock and opening the door to let Lucky carry Caitlin inside. He takes her straight upstairs and I hesitate, unsure whether I should follow. It doesn’t matter; he is back moments later.

“She’s out cold,” he says. “She’ll sleep now until the morning, but she won’t feel great when she wakes up.” He makes it sound like this has happened before.

We stand awkwardly in the hallway.

“Won’t you have a drink?” I ask, just as he says, “I should be going.”

We both laugh nervously. “Please have a drink,” I say in a rush. “Just a quick one?” I can’t bear the sadness in his face. I am sure he needs someone to talk to. I know I do.

“OK, sure.” He nods, and follows me into the sitting room. I walk over to the bar and grab two glasses.

“I don’t think there is very much here,” I say apologetically, “and I don’t know where things are kept.” I splash an inch of something clear into the glasses and hand one to him.

“Thanks,” he says.

We both sit down then, across from each other, neither of us touching our drinks.

“So,” I say finally. “Caitlin says you haven’t seen each other for a while.”

A muscle twitches in Lucky’s jaw. “That’s right.” He nods, staring down into his drink. “Has she … told you about it?” he asks.

“Not really,” I say, taking a sip of my drink and wishing I hadn’t as it burns its way down my throat. I cough. “I think she’s very upset about it, though,” I say hoarsely. “She’s been so agitated since we arrived in London.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit for that.” Lucky grimaces.

“Why not?” I ask.

He looks at me now, his dark eyes inscrutable. “London isn’t a happy place for her,” he says. “There are a lot of … bad memories.”

“Oh,” I say. “I thought it was…” I break off awkwardly.

“Because of me?” Lucky shakes his head. “There’s a lot more wrong than that. I actually thought I was helping her with it for a while.” He gives a bitter bark of laughter. “I guess I just made it all worse in the end.”

I let that sink in for a moment. If Lucky isn’t the source of Caitlin’s unhappiness, then I don’t know what is. “Still,” I suggest cautiously, “it was her decision to come and see you.”

“God knows why.” Lucky drops his head into his hands. “We ended things almost six weeks ago,” he says. “We had to, I guess; we couldn’t carry on as if nothing was wrong. It all had to be a big secret, and it couldn’t ever go anywhere. We … we loved each other, I think, but it couldn’t go anywhere,” he repeats sadly.