A couple of minutes later, she has a coffee machine whirring away and I’m legs-stretched-out on her (extremely comfortable) big, squishy corner sofa.
‘How long have you lived here?’ I ask as she comes over and sits on the sofa, nearish to me but not near enough for us to touch without one of us getting up and purposely moving closer.
‘Five years. It was a stretch to buy it, so I’ve done all the decorating myself, and havelovedbuying the cheapest kitchen and bathroom fittings I could find and trying to make them look as good as possible.’
‘It looks fantastic. I love all your creativity,’ I tell her. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m sure you would if you really wanted to; maybe it’s just that you aren’t into that stuff.’
‘Yeah, no. Yes, I’ve always been far too busy, but even if I hadn’t been I clearly don’t have your talent. The cooking and baking, the interior design. And obviously your writing.’
‘Ha.’ Freya’s doing her unable-to-receive-a-compliment-comfortably thing again. ‘You have no idea whether I have a talent for writing. For all you know my books are genuinely terrible.’
‘Okay, I have to own up here.’ I’m wincing slightly because I feel that I should have mentioned this before. Although in mydefence I really, really did not expect yesterday to end the way it did, and today has been busy. And we’re both tired.
‘Own up?’
‘I read a couple of your books.’
‘Oh my goodness.’ Freya’s hands go to her face and she covers her eyes for a moment. ‘Er, which ones and what did you think? Andwhen? Andwhy?’
‘At the beginning of the challenge. Because…’ This actually does feel a little awkward.
‘Because you wanted to… get to know my writing?’
‘Kind of.’ I wince again. ‘Okay. Full disclosure. We obviously don’t agree on certain things. Like happily-ever-afters. I developed a theory.’ I’m beginning to think Ireallyshouldn’t have started down this path. I don’t like how her eyes are narrowing slightly. Hard to know how I’m going to extricate myself now though without telling her the whole thing.
‘Theory?’ Freya prompts, eyes still somewhat narrowed.
‘Yes, so…’ I don’t want to say it, I decide. It just sounds rude. ‘I mean, it was silly. And, as it turned out, entirely incorrect. And the salient point is that Ilovedyour books. Entirely – as you know – despite myself. I couldn’t put the first one down, from the first page. Loved it. Loved the writing, the characterisation, the humour, everything. Same with the second. And the third.’
‘Three! Which ones?’
‘I can’t actually remember the titles. But I do remember the stories.’ I begin to list them, and realise that I’ve gone way beyond three. ‘Yeah, okay. I think I read seven in total. Couldn’t put them down.’
‘Wow. Thank you. I am actually very honoured, given your expressed views.’
‘Yeah, I was wrong.’
Freya suddenly narrows her eyes again. ‘So you said that you read the books to get to know my writing better,butwhen you read them and liked them you still really dislikedme.’
‘Well, kind of,’ I concede. ‘Because I didn’t really know you at all, did I? Just what youwrote.’
‘I feel like this doesn’t make sense. Why did you even want to get to know my writing? When you disliked me so much? It must have been so you could beat me in the challenge?’ She pauses, frowning, and, just as I’m floundering for a good answer, gasps. ‘Ohhhhh. Were you trying to get to know myheroesbetter so you could find someone similar?’
‘Might have been.’ I’m really not sure how Freya’s going to take this.
‘Hmm. What did you conclude?’ she asks. Slightly frostily.
‘They were all great but all different so it was a pointless exercise but I kept reading because I loved your writing and your stories.’
‘Oh! Well, fair enough.’ She smiles at me, and it feels like the tension in the room has suddenly defused. ‘We were after all in competition. Did you buy all the books?’
‘Yep.’
‘Did it annoy you that you were adding to my sales?’
‘Of course.’
