9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Alison all but threw herself into a second workout to try to clear her mind. She took a long shower, switching the water slowly from warm to cold, stepping out shivering but finally settled. Chances were, she decided, she’d be unlikely to see much of Hope from here on anyway. Now that Hope had realised that there’d be no roll in the sheets in this for her - with an older, somewhat infamous woman - her interest would quickly dwindle.
They’d made no further plans, and they hadn’t exchanged numbers. More than half a week had passed and they hadn’t bumped into each other. Hope was smart, as well as infinitely desirable. She’d probably decided to move on, and honestly, as well she should.
Alison got dressed and went on a cleaning mission. Once upon a time she’d had housekeepers, but lately she’d found she preferred to do it herself. After all, she had all the time in the world to do it .
Hours later, her house squeaky clean, she showered again to rid herself of the scent of bleach. She’d just tugged on her robe when she went still. Her doorbell had rung.
There was no reason whatsoever for anyone to ring the doorbell. She’d ordered no packages, Harry was in Melbourne, Jac was in Brisbane. There was no reason for anyone to be trying to get into her house. For a moment, she stayed frozen. The doorbell rang again, insistent. She shook herself. This was stupid. It wasn’t like a member of the Grant clan would politely announce their presence if they decided to pay her a visit. It was Jimmy Jenkins or someone else of his ilk, she was sure of it.
Sudden rage filled her veins. She’d said no. She’d fought them. How much blood did they think they could squeeze from her? Enough was enough. She strode down the stairs and ripped open her own front door.
“Found you.” Hope sounded delighted. There was one brief flicker, as she took in Alison’s small robe, then she jerked her eyes to her face. “Get dressed? I’m here to take you for a walk.”
Hope stepped past a speechless Alison and into the foyer of her home as though she’d been invited.
“I’m not a puppy,” Alison told her in protest, half to cover her utter disbelief. Hope whirled around .
“And thank god for that,” she agreed. “I’ve had enough of puppies for one day. So cute, so much piddling.”
Alison felt the laugh bubble out of her chest in a wave of sudden joy. Hope was here? Hope was here. No hint of dangerous cleavage, just the same black North Face jacket she’d worn the first time they’d met, unzipped over a white stripy t-shirt and plain black leggings. No gleam of ruby lipstick, no locks to tousle or toy with, her hair instead pulled back in a neat ponytail.
It was at that moment that Alison remembered she was fresh out of the shower, not a lick of makeup, no push-up bra or honestly any underwear at all. Just a silky robe and as natural as the day she was born, except forty-five years older. For a moment, a rush of regret raced through her. Then, she reminded herself sharply that Hope had proclaimed to want to be her friend. That friendship was the only option she had. She lifted her chin. Hope looked back at her, nothing but warmth in her golden-brown eyes.
“I’ll put some clothes on,” Alison said.
“Excellent plan,” Hope said without so much as blinking. “Gold Hill’s loss I’m sure but it’s bloody freezing out there.”
Alison waved her towards the staircase. Upon reaching the top she pointed Hope toward the main living room and took herself back to the bedroom. She quickly dressed in her own activewear and, to her chagrin, couldn’t help but quickly apply enough basic makeup to bring back her colour and the shape of her brow, telling herself it was because she was trying to match the glowing beauty in her living room, not impress her. She briefly met her own eyes as she ran a tinted lip balm over her lips. Idiot , she said to herself.
Feeling somewhat fortified, she made her way to the living room only to find it empty. She saw movement and realised Hope had pushed her way out onto the balcony and was leaning out gazing at the lake. Alison slid the door open and followed her out into the cold.
Hope turned at the movement and smiled at her.
“Stunning view,” she said. For a single second Alison wondered if she was flirting, the way those eyes met hers, because Hope had referred to her appearance as a view once before. Hope’s smile only widened as she turned to look out over the water with a sigh. “Honestly, rich people,” she went on, sounding slightly awed. Alison felt deflated, reassured and tantalised all at once. “How many millions does a view add to a property like this?”
“About four-none-of-your-businesses,” Alison told her.
Hope snorted.
“I’d live right here,” she said, undeterred, “if this was my house.”
“Bit cold, don’t you think? ”
“Not if you’re bright enough to wear a jacket?” Hope tilted her head and glanced at Alison’s bare arms. “Good lord, woman.” She turned from the view and swanned back to the sliding door, gesturing for Alison to get out of the cold. “Can’t afford any warmer clothes?” She raised her eyebrows and made a sympathetic face.
“Oh stop it,” Alison faked her huff as she pushed past Hope into her own living room. “I was going to make us a tea or coffee first, to take with us?”
“Ooh,” Hope said. “I bet you have some kind of luxury hot chocolate brand or five?”
“I have one,” Alison agreed, walking into the expansive open plan kitchen and opening a drawer. She hesitated. “What form of designer plant milk do you drink?”
Hope gave her a flat stare.
“Oat,” she admitted after a moment.
“Of course you do.” Alison smiled victoriously. “I’m nothing if not a well-mannered host.” She reached into her pantry and selected the preferred carton. Even here, in the middle of the countryside with no real social life, she couldn’t seem to help but stay prepared. When she turned back, Hope was in her kitchen, examining the hot chocolate brand. “Pass muster?” Alison raised her eyebrows .
“Yes,” Hope said briefly, handing her the packet. Their fingers brushed and Alison jerked her gaze away.
“Because it’s fair trade and organic?”
“Because it’s vegan,” Hope said.
“ Of course you are.” Alison rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. Trying not to alert Hope to her attraction really was bringing out the worst in her. Hope looked amused though.
“Say what you like,” she said with a little shrug, pulling off her outdoor jacket and walking over to drape it over one of Alison’s breakfast stools. “But you try coaxing a cow through a difficult labour and then going home and eating her baby for dinner afterwards.”
Alison was momentarily speechless. Hope was so small and… pretty she kept underestimating how capable she was. An image of the woman in her kitchen being called out to a farm, expertly delivering calves from large intimidating livestock seemed so deeply incongruent.
“That’s not… it’s the milk, not the baby-” was all Alison could come out with.
“Fine. You try coaxing a cow through a difficult labour and know that her baby is going to be removed in twenty-four hours and sent on a truck to be veal so she can be milked and re-impregnated forever, so that you can drink her baby’s breastmilk.”
Hope’s tone was mild but all urge to tease her suddenly disappeared. It wasn’t like Alison was blind to the complexities of the food-chain, but there was a flare of actual sadness in those brown eyes as Alison pushed her to defend her position. It wasn’t a theoretical vegan lecture; it was a brutal reality in Hope’s daily life. Alison swallowed.
“I guess I’ll have to try the oat,” she said softly. Hope examined her, surprise flaring. Then she smiled.
“What a pushover,” she commented.
Out in the cold, jackets back on, slightly oaty-flavoured hot chocolates in hand, Alison led the way to the hidden gate that let them out onto the embankment and down toward the lake.
“How did you figure out where I lived?” Alison remembered to ask.
“It wasn’t hard,” Hope told her, with a thoroughly unrepentant smirk. “I knew it was one of these monstrosities.” She waved her hand toward the row of houses behind them. “Only one had lights on.”
“You’d make an excellent stalker,” Alison observed. She felt unnerved by the fact that if anyone else had done what Hope had just done she’d rip them a new one. Hope though? Alison had felt relieved by her intrusion.
“Are you upset?” Hope asked her, as they reached the lake path, the crunch of their boots against the sharp gravel surprisingly loud under the oppressively cloudy sky. There wasn’t another soul to be seen. A trio of ducks slid gracefully from the sky onto the lake beside them.
“No,” Alison admitted. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“That’s a relief,” Hope told her lightly. “It’ll make that friendship thing a lot smoother if you actually like my company.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate, apparently unfazed by drifting past the unspoken part of the conversation. The part where Hope had said things like I want to fuck you and Alison had imagined, for one long second, kissing her mouth under the stars.
“That’s probably a prerequisite, really.” Alison was intensely grateful for her decades of professional chit-chat skills that meant sometimes her mouth could say sensible things when her brain was stuck spinning its wheels in a hot panic.
“I realised I didn’t have your phone number,” Hope was saying, not a hint of extra colour to her cheeks. “Hence the stalking. I figured you’d either thump me or find it charming.”
“Or tolerate it,” Alison corrected, even as she knew the categorisation was a lie. “First my car, then my house. You’re clearly a little shaky on the concept of boundaries.”
She’d meant it as a tease no matter how sharp it had come out, but also, honestly, she was struggling to figure out quite how to relate to Hope right now. Hope seemed so blasé, so easy about this concept of friendship even though she’d looked at Alison, repeatedly , like she was imagining her naked. Even though she’d explicitly caught Alison with her eyes where no uninterested eyes were supposed to be.
“Actually,” Hope said firmly, “I think you’ll find my boundaries are incredibly strong, my friend.” She smiled broadly, her meaning crystal clear. “So cut the shit and enjoy this beautiful walk with me.”
“You’re certainly bossy,” Alison said, as if she didn’t deserve the reprimand. She felt slightly shaky as the conversation butted right up against the edge of her discomfort. She didn’t want to be this spiky with Hope; god help her, she was very much starting to like this woman. But she was rusty enough at making new friends without this bewildering complication added in.
“What does a girl have to do to get a break around here?” Hope sighed out a huff. “Can we just have a normal fucking conversation please?” There was a minute quirk to her lower lip despite the exasperated tone. “What did you do with your day?”
I made myself come thinking about you .
“Nothing remotely exciting,” Alison lied through her teeth. “Seriously,” she added when Hope glared at her. “I exercised, I cleaned, I dealt with a minor home invasion and was put off dairy for life. Tell me about your day.”
“A fancy lady like you?” Hope raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you have servants or something for jobs like that? A personal trainer? A housekeeper?”
“No.” Alison told her shortly. “I’m not out delivering livestock in fields but I’m otherwise quite self-sufficient.”
“Sore point,” Hope noted. “Tell me more.”
“ Hope. Do you ever leave things alone?”
“Sometimes. Rarely, with friends though.”
“ Fine,” she huffed. “I don’t like having strangers in my space ever since every stranger in the entire country already thinks they’ve been inside my fucking bedroom, okay?”
“That’s… fair.” Hope blinked at her. “So today, me bowling straight into your living room was actually your idea of a nightmare. ”
Alison saw her chance to finally right herself.
“I don’t know quite how you’ve done it, but somehow you seem to have earned yourself a free pass,” she said softly.
“Did you just… hug me?” Hope asked, her eyes going bright. Alison laughed. “I swear that’s just what happened. At least verbally.”
“You’re very much the get given an inch and take a mile sort of woman aren’t you?”
“ You have no idea,” Hope said with a grin. Then her smile hitched. Alison felt it too. They were veering closer to flirting territory, even though no one had said anything out of the bounds of normality. It was just… in the air.
“Tell me something about you,” Alison said abruptly. “We’ve already established you’ve seen an entire television show about my life and now you’ve been to my house. And all I know about you is that you’re a vet with a smart mouth and hipster friends. And you’re a vegan,” she tacked on her recent discovery, “stalker.”
“You should come to my house,” Hope declared.
“I wasn’t angling for an invite,” Alison protested quickly .
“Weren’t you?” Hope raised her eyebrows. “You keep telling me that you barely know me while I’m intimately acquainted with your very soul. Come to my house. Poke through my things. Look at my books. I’ll feed you,” she added, when Alison’s hesitation showed on her face. “Dinner at a friend’s place,” Hope prompted her. “It’s what friends do? Oh!” She looked delighted. “I’ll invite the rest of the gang. After all, you drink oat milk now. You’ll fit right in.”