Freya North 3-Book Collection: Love Rules, Home Truths, Pillow Talk. Freya North

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      A door closes. Footsteps are descending the staircase. Thea fears she’s rooted to the spot and yet suddenly she finds herself inside the perspex shop. Her heart pounds in her throat and head at different rates. Some force hauls her stomach against her spine and evaporates all the moisture in her mouth. Her conscience rails; she yells at herself you horrible cow! how dare you cast aspersions at Saul! how dare you think he could do something like that! something like that to you! look! see! it’s not Saul! of course it’s not Saul – it’s a complete stranger! just some sad old fat bloke in his sixties who lives with his mum in Purley and has never had a girlfriend.

      No.

      It is Saul. It is Saul. It is Saul.

      Thea watches Saul saunter past through her fractured perspex veil. Saul, distorted through this prism of shards and sheets and panes and panels in jewel-like colours and degrees of transparency. Everything is twisted, fragmented; like a Cubist painting. What is real? How do you piece it together? How can the meaning be deciphered?

      That was Saul.

      It was him.

      It really was.

      He wasn’t casting furtive looks to either side. He didn’t skulk away incognito. His head was high and he looked pretty happy.

      ‘I need to use your toilet.’

      Mr Perspex has never had a customer ask before and this one doesn’t even seem to be a customer but Mr Perspex shrugs and tells Thea it’s out the back. She vomits. She throws up everything she has inside her. She flushes it away but suddenly there’s more. She flushes again before another churning spasm scorches her stomach and burns her throat as she hurls bile down into the toilet. Flush it away. Flush it away. She heaves and retches but at last there’s nothing left. Physically, it’s a relief yet still she feels desperately sick.

      Nothing’s left. There is nothing left.

Alice?

       u there, Mr B?

      Yes, he is!

       howz u? I miss u, u mad sexy bitch!

       miss u 2

      ‘Who are you texting, Alice?’

      ‘No one – I mean, it’s just a work matter, Mark.’

      ‘Do you fancy Thai?’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘Thai – takeaway?’

      ‘Yes. Sure. Whatever. Just give me a minute, would you, Mark?’

       bad timing, txt u L8R xxxxxxxxxxx

      ‘Sorry, Mark. Now, what were you saying?’

      ‘Do you fancy Thai?’

      ‘I’m not hugely hungry, actually.’

      ‘Well, there’s nothing in the fridge.’

      ‘I’ve been busy!’

      ‘I’m not criticizing you, Alice – I just said we’ve nothing in the house so do you fancy popping out for a meal or ordering a takeaway?’

      ‘Oh. OK. Sure. Order plenty and I’ll have a nibble.’

      ‘OK. Unless you’d rather go out?’

      ‘No – takeaway is fine. Just get a takeaway.’

       u there, big boy?

       yes – thnkng of ur hot bod …

       my hot bod v v slippry!

       me hard & horny – wanna suk?

       yum yum cum! come 2 me! come 2 uk??!!

       luv 2 but me skint

       but I want 2 play with my toyboy …

       can u fone?

       no – not now – not poss xxxxx

      ‘Here we go – I ordered way too much. Are you all right, Alice?’

      ‘Sorry? Yes, I’m fine. Just thinking about work actually.’

      ‘I popped into Blockbuster too.’

      ‘I have some work to do – do you mind if I disappear for an hour or so?’

      ‘No – of course. Here, let me do you a plateful. There you are, darling.’

      ‘Thanks, Mark.’

       I cld send u tix …

       wots ‘tix’?

       TICKETS – idiot! u r all balls, no brain!!

       Easyjet/Eurostar etc

       but I’m broke Alice!

       am sure u can thnk of ways 2 recompense me, Mr B

       cld fuck u til you beg for mercy …

       hmmm that’ll do nicely!

       seriously, Alice – u serious?

       v serious – will research & fone/txt u 2moro

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