Engrossed in a taxing calculation, Freddie didn't look up as the bell above the door tinkled (it made much ruder sounds if the person entering or leaving happened to be up to no good.) Glancing at the clock, he sighed happily-- only a few minutes to go. Not that he didn't enjoy his new shop, but he rather liked having his evenings for the purposes of relaxation. Davies had vanished off somewhere with God-knows-who to do God-knows-what, so Freddie was rather anxiously awaiting word from Alice, who had promised a visit. He kept thinking he could hear her voice, looking up, and realising he'd imagined it. Now, however, there was actually a girl in his shop who sounded very like Alice. He glanced up curiously and spotted a flash of blonde hair between shelves. Oh, maybe that was her. He raised his hand in greeting, but quickly withdrew it as she rounded the corner hand-in-hand with some bloke. Fred felt his insides shrink.
Perhaps he'd misunderstood this new, sudden contact. Maybe she did only want to be friends. But she hadn't made that particularly clear, had she? Without realising, Fred squeezed the quill he was holding so tightly that it snapped in half. Looking down in surprise, he vanished the broken pieces and watched Alice trail through the shop with her friend, whoever he was. A small voice in Freddie's head tried to remind him that Alice was like this with everyone-- touchy-feely and friendly and close. He hadn't minded when they'd been going out that she kissed friends on the cheek and held hands, he'd trusted her. But then hadn't she bounded off with James and destroyed that trust? No, no, that wasn't fair. It was as much James' fault as it was Alice's. But still, he thought, watching her say goodbye to her companion through the orange-tinted front window, this wasn't exactly fair. She bounded up to him. Freddie found there was a lump in his throat when he tried to speak. "Hello," he said coldly.