Chapter 6

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AFTER doing Todd's head in with his indecision over what to wear, Neil had cycled to Evelyn's house. He had checked and rechecked the address several times to ensure he wouldn't make the mistake of knocking on a stranger's front door, but once it swung open and those bright brown eyes sparkled back at him, all the nerves deflated out of his system.

"Hi," he said.

But she said nothing, only stepped forward and kissed him, long and deeply.

When she pulled away, the breath had been swept from his lungs and he opened his eyes to her satisfied smile. "Wow. Hi," he repeated.

"Hi," she replied, then she pulled him inside by his hand and shut the door behind him. "Are you thirsty?"

"What do you have?" Neil asked.

"What would you like?" Evelyn responded challengingly.

"Water?"

She squeezed his hand. "Coming right up. The living room's through there." Then she let go and walked in a direction different to the one she pointed towards, leaving him in the somewhat elegant foyer.

Things were quiet in her home, but not in an unnerving way. There were framed photographs lining the walls, some much older than others, but clear enough to understand that they were members of Evelyn's family. There were some of her as a child that he couldn't help but look at with a smile. But he didn't linger.

Once he stepped into the living room, he headed directly towards the maroon, linen sofa with a coat hung over the left arm—the script on the coffee table in front of it told him it belonged to Evelyn.

Neil slipped his own coat off and hung it over the other arm of the couch before sitting himself down and placing his brown leather messenger bag down at his feet. Things were spacious but still alive with the patterned rug and walls and the ornaments and plants that sat around the television.

Evelyn sauntered across the room towards him with two glasses of water. Neil thanked her once she placed them down on the table and joined him.

"Where are your parents?" he asked as she sat down by her coat and crossed her right leg over her left.

"At a funeral."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," she assured, smiling. "It's a distant distant relative. I'm talking further than a third cousin and even then I'm not entirely sure it counts as a blood relation. It's a godparent type thing—I don't know. I could try to explain it, but we'd be here forever. The only way I got out of it was by telling my mom we were running lines together."

"Ah," he nodded, "so that's why I'm here."

"No," her smile dropped instantly. "No, no, no, I swear that's not the case."

He smiled amusedly. "I'm messing with you."

"I know, but I want to set the record straight. I really did just forgot about the funeral. I think my brain purposefully erased it from my memory. I hate funerals."

"I've never been to one," Neil told her.

Evelyn tilted her head, "Never?" and Neil shook his own silently in reply. "My parents are on the older side, so I think they're at the point in their life where everyone's dropping like flies. They're so desensitised to it, too. It could be a friend they've know for thirty years and they'll cry about it for a day, maybe two, and then they're just over it."

"Well, it's like you said, they're older, so... they've that long life with them already. You know, they've probably come to terms with things."

"I don't think I would be like that," she mused aloud. "I think that would have the opposite effect on me because I hate goodbyes way too much."

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 • Neil PerryWhere stories live. Discover now