Although Fred had of course seen Alicia since she had arrived in the village, it was true they had not spent nearly enough quality time together. Fred had always considered Alicia, Angelina and Katie as his closest female friends – his ‘girls’. Alicia and Ange were probably closer to him than Katie, purely by virtue of being in the same year at school, but Angelina of course had the added complication of being Fred’s on-off girlfriend, which really left Als as the most friendy friend of the three. Fred had missed her, here in the village, as he had missed everybody who had not turned up yet since he had arrived, but he was always very conscious that to nearly everyone he met, it had been a lot longer since they had seen him. Flattering though it was to be hailed joyously by new arrivals, the reasons behind it were not quite so pleasant. Alicia at least had treated him relatively normally, and that made him feel more comfortable. He was happy at the thought of going to see Als tonight. His relationships were all so bloody complicated here, and Alicia might just be one of the simplest.
He had an inkling she might want to talk to him about Ange, and he was surprised at how little that scared him. Trying to talk to Angelina herself was painful, and even talking to George was difficult, in the circumstances, but Alicia might get it a little better. Even if she didn’t, Fred knew Alicia to be a fair friend, and she wasn’t about to take sides and yell at him. It was weird, but part of Fred was expecting to be yelled at by somebody. He thought he deserved to be yelled at, anyway. He hated hurting Ange, and he knew that was just what he was doing, but he just couldn’t manage to be normal around her. He didn’t know what was going to help with that apart from time, and maybe trying to just act normal, if he could. Right now, though, he couldn’t. It was just too weird. It had come as a shock originally to Fred that George and Ange had ended up married, and with children, and he had felt betrayed, and awkward, and out of place, and that had been hard, but he had come to a sort of settled state within his head. He blocked out those parts he didn’t want to think about and managed that way. He could think of Roxy as George’s daughter, and as Ange’s daughter, and not join the dots as to what that meant. He seemed to be better at compartmentalising that way than George was. With all the ageing up and down though, that had changed. He had met Roxy’s mum, as Roxy knew her, and it was Ange, and Ange was married, and she was married to George, and… it had all come crashing back. He looked at Ange - his Ange – and he saw someone else. He saw George’s Ange. He couldn’t just be normal around her.
Fred walked up the path to Alicia’s front door and knocked a little rhythm on the door with one hand, the other holding his wand, which was currently levitating four massive pizzas in boxes. Everybody liked pizza, and it kept well so she could eat the rest tomorrow. He smiled as Alicia yelled out at him and didn’t hesitate to open the door.
"I am never late," he called back. "It is everybody else’s clocks that are early." He directed the pizza in front of him and wandered into Alicia’s living room. The layout of the house was familiar, of course, as they were all the same. Catching sight of the wine as he lowered the pizza onto the table, Fred grinned. "Just how drunk do you plan on getting me, Als?" he asked. Then he loped towards her, arms outstretched, for a good old hug.