The Seven O’Clock Club by Amelia Ireland

Author:Amelia Ireland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black & White Publishing
Published: 2025-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 36

Freya

Three hard raps on my front door interrupted me from my book. I say interrupted – I was on page 137 – but I wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone anything about it. I reached over for my bookmark, placed it carefully at the spot I’d just finished pretending to read, and stood up to get the door.

A quick glance through the spyhole revealed that Genevieve, of all people, was standing in my porch, absent-mindedly stroking the leaves of a meandering philodendron that cascaded down the side of one of the exposed brick walls. What the hell was she doing, showing up at my home? I knew I hadn’t answered any of her calls, but surely that didn’t give her the right to turn up completely uninvited? I thought about not opening the door, but then decided I should just get it over with. The quicker I spoke to her, the quicker she’d leave.

If she was shocked by my appearance, she didn’t show it. In fact, it was almost as if she’d expected it. Which was kind of strange, in the circumstances.

I smiled thinly. ‘Genevieve, what a lovely surprise. Come in.’

I stood aside to let her into the hallway.

‘Let’s go through to the kitchen,’ I said. ‘It’s straight ahead of you. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

Without saying a word, she followed me down the hall and sat at my kitchen table.

‘Tea then? Or coffee?’

‘I’ll have a tea, please,’ Genevieve said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud, until I realised that was probably because I hadn’t had a conversation with anyone in this house for a very long time. ‘That’d be great.’

‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Just milk.’

I busied myself with the drinks.

She cleared her throat, forcing me to turn around and look directly at her.

‘Freya, are you okay?’

I smiled at her. ‘Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?’

She was about to answer when I interrupted her. Suddenly strangely desperate to not cause a scene, I changed tack, doing my best to redirect the conversation into something light-hearted.

‘Ooh, actually I have some biscuits too. I made them this morning. I tried a new recipe. Something I’d been meaning to test out for ages. They’ve got apricots in. Joe’s favourite. I thought he might like them when he got in from work. But it looks like he won’t be back tonight now. You should have a couple. I made too many, as always.’

‘Freya . . .’

I pretended I hadn’t heard.

‘The next thing I might do is brownies. I’ve had a real craving for them recently. You know, the really sticky ones? But no nuts. I hate it when people put nuts in their brownies. Or maybe a coffee cake.’ I knew I was rambling but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

‘Freya . . .’

Genevieve observed me across the kitchen island. Immediately my thoughts jumbled together and I clammed up.

‘Yes?’

‘You look quite different to when we last saw you.’

I looked down at my newly manicured nails, unable to meet her eye. ‘I just thought it was about time I made a bit of an effort again.

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