“I didn’t expect you to agree just like that.” Lily’s words were subdued. She tried to summon her breezy exterior cheer, but it withered in the face of Freya’s scorn. “I only hoped you might consider the idea.”
“In your dreams.” Freya bristled; even her hair crackled with antagonism, standing out around her sharp face in a wiry cloud.
Her dreams. They were another thing she couldn’t control. Funny how Freya featured in those as well lately, but a softer Freya, a Freya with the same dry humour, but less prickly. One who seemed to like Lily and wanted to share times with her. The previous night’s dream had been about her and Freya having coffee together in Remy’s café. Just coffee and cake. Nothing more, nothing less. Something simple that two friends who wanted to spend time with each other did on any given day of the week.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to have coffee with me tomorrow morning after yoga?” The words popped out, an extension of the scenario in her head.
“Why? So you can proposition me with another lunatic idea?”
Proposition. The word caught Lily by surprise. Proposition. There were a few things she’d like to proposition Freya with. A sexuality and yoga class. Tick, been there, done that, strike one. Coffee. It appeared that was strike two. The third thing hovered there, dust and clouds, a nebulous thing she couldn’t even articulate to herself. But it had been there in a dream, not last night, but one before then. A kiss. Herself kissing Freya with tenderness and a hint of passion. Her mouth twisted. Her unconscious mind was obviously on the same crazy plane as her conscious one. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—even articulate that one, as it would fly against everything Freya lived for.
“Just coffee. Maybe a cake. Treat ourselves.” Her smile was a forced approximation of her usual one, but it was the best she could do. “Try and be friends. I thought we had a pleasant evening when you and Carly came to dinner.”
Freya’s nod was terse, but it was a nod. “I have breakfast with Carly after yoga. Come along too, if you want.”
As invitations went, it was far from effusive, but it was a start.
“Sure. I’d like that.”
Chapter 12
Lily was waiting for Freya after yoga the next morning. Her hair was tied back with what looked like a strip from a torn T-shirt, and her lilac yoga pants clashed horribly with her gold-and-brown tunic. The woman had more yoga clothes than were for sale in a medium-sized Queensland town. For a second, the image of another woman superimposed itself over Lily’s garish figure. Sarah, dressed for yoga in a neat striped top and matching pants, but her long soft hair tied back with a similar-looking strip of cloth torn from a T-shirt. Freya had laughed and challenged Sarah on it.
“Can’t you find a hairband?” she’d said.
Sarah had smiled, that genuine smile of hers, one that crinkled her eyes and etched a dimple in her cheek. “Sure,” she’d said. “But I like this better. It reminds me of you.” And Freya had looked closer and seen it came from one of her old T-shirts that she’d thrown in the rag bag only the day before, deeming it too worn and faded for day-to-day wear.
Freya shook herself, the image of Sarah receding like the tide. Lily stared at her quizzically, no doubt wondering why she’d frozen almost in mid-stride, her gaze locked on the middle distance. She forced an approximation of a smile and closed the remaining space.
Carly, too, was waiting, and the three of them walked the short distance to the Green House. Their usual table was free, and Carly dragged over a third chair. It was cramped with three of them, and Freya’s arm rubbed against Lily’s. Lily’s flesh was warm. Freya inched closer to Carly.
“What can I get you three?” Remy stood in front of the table, pad in hand.
Lily studied the menu. “Please can I have the buckwheat pancakes with apple and cinnamon. And a cuban espresso. Thanks.”
“Good choice.” Remy turned to the others. “The usual? Brekky wrap, chia-and-pecan porridge, and coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Carly said.
Freya closed the menu. “Actually, the buckwheat pancakes sound good. I’d like them, please, but with banana.”
Carly goggled at her. “You always have the porridge.”
“Sometimes it’s good to change. I’m not totally set in my ways.” She kept her eyes firmly fixed on Carly. This was about breakfast choices, it wasn’t a deeper message. It didn’t mean she was suddenly going to launch into a sex-and-yoga class with Lily.
Lily shifted again, and her upper arm brushed against Freya’s. Freya tried to move her chair away, but her back was to the wall, and there was nowhere to go. She was silent, her awareness focused on the scant centimetres of space between herself and Lily.
Carly’s chatter filled the awkward silence. “It’s my birthday in two days’ time. Thirty-five. Thirty-fucking-five. Why does that seem so old? That’s halfway to forty.”
“Technically, twenty is halfway to forty. And let’s not forget that being forty is halfway to being dead.” Freya took the opportunity to nudge Carly. The space between her and Lily grew another centimetre.
Carly’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that! Besides, you’re the healthiest forty-one-year-old I know.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Anyway. I’m going to celebrate my birthday this year. Last year, Andy said we’d go out to dinner, just the two of us, and acted all sorrowful when I suggested having a gang of friends over, or going to the pub. And then he cancelled at the last minute. Work. He works pretty hard.”
“Even on your birthday.” Freya’s words were deliberately non-committal.
Carly didn’t seem to notice her comment. “This year, though, I’m not going to sit at home all prettied up for nothing. I am going to have fun! We’re going to the hotel, girlfriends! Me, you two, and anyone from the yoga class and the sexuality class who wants to come along.”
“Count me in.” Remy appeared at the table with their coffees. “A girls’ night out sounds just the thing.”
“No presents, though.” Carly picked up the spoon and shovelled three sugars into her coffee, ignoring Freya’s disapproving look. “Don’t waste your money on a present. Buy me a drink instead.”
“When?” Remy tucked the tray under her arm. “And will we go to the public bar, or will you reserve the back room? They let you have it for free if there’s more than two hundred bucks put over the bar.”
“The back room,” Carly decided. “I’ll buy the party pies and dim sims from the pub, and I’m sure if there’s a dozen of us, we’ll get over that two hundred bar tab easy enough.”
“How about I bring some vegan nibbles as a contribution?” Remy asked. “Not all of us are junk-eating carnivores like you, Carly.” She grinned to take the sting out of her words. “I’ve done that before. The hotel doesn’t mind as long as you let them know ahead of time.”
“It’s a plan. How about Friday, on my actual birthday?”
“That’s good for me,” Remy said, and Lily nodded.
“Freya?”
“Sure. That’s fine.” She squeezed Carly’s hand. “And maybe Andy won’t have to work late and will come along as well. He can bring his mates too.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Carly’s fingers worried the napkin, pleating it into a fan and letting it spring back.
Freya sipped her coffee in the silence that followed, her eyes on Carly’s down-bent head. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Carly since her confession that things weren’t good between her and Andy. Guilt needled her. She should. She would. But Carly was usually so upbeat, her extrovert personality so cheerful, that it had been easy to overlook that Carly was probably suffering inside. She’d ask her around for dinner after her birthday. Just the two of them. She would reconnect with her friend then.
“I’m thinking of getting a cat.” Lily looked at each of t
hem in turn. “Dorcas has reminded me how much I miss having an animal. And living so close to her, it wouldn’t be fair to get a dog. What do you think?”
“Great idea! Boy or girl cat?” Carly leant forwards, her quietness evaporating. “Get a ginger one. I love ginger kitties.”
“That would almost certainly be a male, then.” Lily fiddled with the teaspoon. “I really don’t mind, though.”
“There’s a shelter in Mackay.” Freya set her mug down. “They have a website, and one of my yoga ladies volunteers there. Do you know Kayla?” At Lily’s nod, she continued, “Ask her about cats. The last time she mentioned it, she said they had more animals needing adoption than homes available.”
“I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll go next Monday when the shop’s closed and see what they have.”
“Can I come too?” Carly’s face was alight with eagerness. “I love looking at the puppies. I’d love a dog, but Andy doesn’t want one.”
“Sure, you can come. As long as you don’t come home with an Irish Wolfhound. You won’t be able to sneak that in the door when Andy’s not looking!”
A crash came from the direction of the kitchen. Remy turned. “Honestly. That new girl is hopeless. Carly, if ever you want to stop being a lady of leisure, you have a job here. I mean it.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
“Does Dorcas get on with other cats? I’m sure the partition between the balconies won’t keep them apart. Dorcas comes visiting me sometimes.” Lily’s gaze rested on Freya’s face.
“She used to get on just fine with other cats, but she’s been by herself for a long time. I’m sure it will work.”
“Good. I’d hate for Dorcas to be upset. That cat is so sweet.”
Remy returned balancing three plates. “Brekky wrap for you, Carly. Buckwheat pancakes with apple and cinnamon for Lily, and with banana for Freya.”
The pancakes looked fantastic, and Freya’s mouth watered. Why had she never tried them before?
“Enjoy your meal. Anyone want another coffee?” Remy asked.
“Yes, please.” Carly handed Remy her empty mug, and Lily nodded.
“And I’ll see you tomorrow, Lily and Carly. Our second sexuality class. I got a lot of benefit from the first one.” Remy winked. “And I need to come into Lily’s shop for a look around.”
“You do that.”
Freya scooped some of the sweet banana. Remy, whom she’d known for years, now appeared to include Lily in the same friendship group as herself and Carly. Maybe it was Lily’s city-bred smoothness and confidence—or maybe it was just Lily herself.
“I was in the library the other day.” Lily put down her fork. “I saw a poster for a book club. Do either of you go?”
“Not me,” Carly said. “They were too earnest for me and seemed to focus on older classics. Freya used to go.”
“Not anymore?”
Freya shrugged. “Lack of time, really. And whilst it was good to begin with when there was only a few of us, it went the way of many book clubs: too big, no one could agree on what to read, and too much infighting.”
“I was in a book club in Sydney,” Lily said. “There were a couple of people who really liked the sound of their own voice, if you know what I mean. The last time I went, I think I contributed two words, but the two magpies constantly chattered. I didn’t go again.”
“There was a bit of that going on with the Grasstree Flat one too. I’m not sure if it’s still like that. I haven’t been back.”
“Lily, you could start one,” Carly said. “Didn’t you tell me you had a new shipment of books?”
“I did. But it might be a bit limited for most people. The books are either erotic romance, non-fiction, or straight-out erotica. I’m not sure that would be enough to keep a book club afloat. And honestly? I don’t have the time. I’m enjoying the bushwalking group; I don’t need another indoor activity.”
Janie. Lily was probably enjoying Janie as well as the benefits of the great Aussie outdoors. Freya studied her, head tilted to one side. She hadn’t seen Janie much lately, certainly not around Lily’s shop. Maybe Lily and Janie hadn’t been out together. Or maybe they’d spent all their time at Janie’s place, where the walls weren’t as thin.
A needle prick of something unfamiliar jabbed her guts. Lily and Janie. What would it be like to see them together? A couple? Kissing. She swallowed against a rush of saliva in her throat. Good on them, if they did. Both made no secret of looking for a partner. And she wasn’t jealous of Lily. She’d had her chance with Janie, who’d waited a respectable amount of time after Sarah passed before asking Freya out. She’d turned her down firmly enough that Janie hadn’t asked again. No, she didn’t want Janie.
Freya didn’t want anyone.
Chapter 13
“I had no idea so many people would come!” Carly’s eyes were slightly glazed in her flushed face. The wine in her glass wavered dangerously close to the rim.
“You have lots of friends.” Freya took Carly’s glass and set it down before it could spill.
Indeed, most of the women from the yoga class were there, as well as those from other places around town. Including Janie, who was talking intently to Lily. Their bodies were angled towards each other, their conversation focused. Freya turned so Lily wasn’t in her direct line of sight. But Lily shifted position, and her patterned orange shirt and dark hair, shining like a raven’s wing under the lights, moved back into Freya’s vision. Lily moved closer to Janie, and laughed at whatever Janie had said. Lily’s laugh was wholehearted—like most everything she did. She threw her head back and her laughter pealed. The woman apparently never censored anything in her behaviour.
Janie put a hand on Lily’s forearm and leant in to whisper something in her ear.
Freya turned again so she was facing Carly. “Thirty-five is treating you well so far?”
Carly beamed, a slightly cross-eyed expression. “Yeah. So far, my tits are still sitting high and my wrinkles are no deeper than they were yesterday. Andy found a grey hair, though. He teased me about dyeing it. I told him I’d dye it blue. He didn’t find that as funny as I did. He must have thought I meant it!” She reached out an unsteady hand and petted Freya’s salt-and-pepper curls. “I’m going to go gracefully grey like you.”
One of Carly’s friends came up and pressed another glass of wine into Carly’s hand. “Happy Birthday,” she said, then pecked Carly on the cheek and disappeared again towards the bar.
Carly took a hefty swig of the new glass. “That was good timing. I seem to have mislaid my drink.”
Freya eyed the missing drink, sitting in plain view on the table, but didn’t say anything. Carly, normally the most moderate of drinkers, was already stonkered. Any more and she would need carrying home. Andy was supposedly coming later; hopefully, he would look after her. In the meantime, Freya would have a quiet word with the bar staff about the responsible service of alcohol.
Carly leant in closer, wobbling on her high heels. “I love you, Freya. You’re a great friend. And if I was gay, I would absolutely fancy you.” She hiccupped. “Pity in some ways I’m not. Cos if I were, I would hit on you, and on Lily.” Her brow furrowed. “Not Janie, though. She’s a bit sharp around the edges. Like she’s made of razors and bread knives. But Lily… You should absolutely go for her. She’s fucking gorgeous. All big and beautiful and so kind. Why don’t you, Frey? You can’t live like a fucking nun forever.” Her voice rose enough that the women next to them turned to look.
Freya wrapped an arm around Carly’s shoulders and urged her towards a table. “Why don’t we sit for a bit?” She took Carly’s wine glass from her and set it down along the way.
“Yeah” Carly wrapped her arm around Freya’s waist and allowed herself to be led. “Maybe I’ve drunk a little too much.”
“I’ll get
you a soft drink.” Freya looked around for someone reliable to sit with Carly whilst she was gone. The last thing she wanted was for someone to give her more wine. The room was emptying out; this was still an early-to-bed Queensland town, and ten was a late night for many.
Her scan of the room caught Lily’s gaze. Concern furrowed Lily’s brow, and she excused herself from Janie and came over. Flashing a smile at Freya, she sat. “How’s it going, Carly? This has been a great night. Lots of people here to celebrate your birthday.”
“Yeah. It has. Stay and talk with me and Freya.” Carly pushed her hair back from her face.
“Of course. But I’m going to the bar for a soda lime and bitters first. Can I get either of you one?”
Carly nodded, and Freya said, “Yes, thank you.”
Lily was back in a couple of moments with three pots of the non-alcoholic drink.
“Thanks.” Carly clinked her glass against both of theirs. “I was just saying to Freya that if I were gay, I would hit on her. I’d hit on you too, Lil. Just sayin’.”
“Thank you for the compliment.” Lily squeezed her hand.
“Are you and Freya friends now?” Carly peered into each of their faces in turn. “Good. I like that my friends are friends.”
Friend. The word settled into Freya’s mind. Lily had offered friendship from the word go. She had never withdrawn that offer, even during their differences.
“Lily’s great, Frey. She’s taught me lots. About myself mainly, but also she’s helped me see clearer about Andy. She knows what to do in bed too. She’s taught me a few things about that as well. A woman’s pleasure… Her shop is well named. She taught me techniques and stuff, both for me and my lover. She told me it’s okay for me to ask for what I want in bed. I can talk to her. Not just about sex, either. Lily listens. Lily knows more about sex than anyone I know.”
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