Page 27 of Pyg

“It’s fine. You live here. Stop worrying.”

Alice turned and Ash followed. “Welcome to my humble abode. There isn’t much to it, but this is me.”

“It’s nice.” Ash’s voice came from behind her. “It’s really nice. I love the floor tiles. Are they original?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Ash gasped, as Alice had once done, when she took in the height of the living room. “Wow! Look at the ceiling. You could have a mezzanine in here.”

“I often wish all that space was down here, not up there. But I suppose it’d just give me more places to leave my underwear lying around for unsuspecting visitors to find.”

Ash looked down from the ceiling, her soft gaze settling back on Alice’s face. “You need to stop beating yourself up so much.”

Alice gave her a weak smile. “Tea?”

Ash yawned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ll just go and wash my face and then I’ll be right back with a cuppa. How do you take it?”

“Milky please, three sugars.”

“Three sugars, but you’re a doctor?”

“A doctor with a sweet tooth.” Ash shrugged and yawned again.

“Grab a seat.” Alice motioned to the couch and Ash sat, resting back and closing her eyes. Despite her confident presence, even she looked small buried amidst the cushions of the oversized sofa.

Alice hovered in the doorway for a moment, adjusting to the novelty of someone else in her space. Fran had only popped by here the once. After an extended visit to the bedroom, where, incidentally, Fran had also admired the ceiling, but for different reasons, she’d insisted they go out for dinner instead of spending an evening curled up with a takeaway, as had been Alice’s suggestion.

“My treat,” Fran had said, with the air of a dissatisfied health inspector as she looked around the small flat, scattered with Alice’s tired possessions.

Alice had simply smiled, shaking off the pinch of Fran’s judgement and snobbish disregard. At the time, she chose to take comfort in her knowledge that Fran only wanted her for who she was, not what she had — at the time, she’d thought that had to count for something. And as always, Alice had acquiesced to being wined and dined by the much wealthier woman. After all, Alice’s go-to oyster dish from Chopstix, accompanied by a cheap bottle of white wine, had nothing on fresh oysters slipping down her throat, chased by actual Champagne —Fran’s treat.

Alice wiped away the black from around her eyes and splashed cold water on her face. Her makeup-free complexion wasn’t one she normally shared with anyone. In fact, even Fran, her lover of two years, had never seen her bare-faced. But Ash had already seen far worse. And it wasn’t like Alice was trying to impress the woman.Was she?

Get a grip, you’ve just come out of a long-term relationship. You’re a mess. And Ash isn’t your type… not that she’d be interested in you anyway.

* * *

“I’m sorry,but I still don’t have milk, so I made you a black tea, three sugars.”

Ash’s head snapped up. She inhaled sharply and glanced around. “Sorry, I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”

Alice sniffed out a laugh. “You must be shattered.” She sat and cupped her hands around her own steaming mug.

“Yeah, more than I thought, and this is a very comfy settee.” Ash sat up and ran her fingers through her silky black hair.

“Are you hungry?” Alice asked, but before Ash could answer, she shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked; it’s not like I have any food in. I mean, there might be an old can of tuna in the back of the — oh actually, wait.” Alice jumped up.

In the hallway, Alice reached into her handbag and pulled out a scrunched-up paper napkin. Returning to the couch, she unrolled the two muffins from the café, one of which had a considerable bite taken out of it.

Laughter bubbled up from Ash. “What the… how?”

“Sorry, they might be a bit stale now, but I wasn’t going to let Fran eat your muffin.”

Ash belly-laughed, and it triggered the same response in Alice.

“Wow, I’d have liked to have seen her face when you snatched it away. Was she mid-mouthful?”

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