Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Chapter 25
FREYA
I WAS GLAD TO escape the opening, mainly because I could feel my dress slip as the night went on. I had spent all night trying to think of what to say to people, and my head ached from the effort and from the pinching of the twenty – I counted – long hairpins that were holding my hair back. I looked at myself in the mirror when I got back to my room to check that my tits hadn’t been out, but the woman looking back at me just did not look like me, and I was taken aback by how uncomfortable it made me. It was a costume, and I was playacting. And I was so tired of it. I had massively underestimated the effort it would take to maintain the Effie Hancock thing all the time, and I found myself slipping more and more frequently into my own personality.
I wriggled out of the dress and yanked the hairpins out of my hair, tipping my head upside down and shaking it out. It bounced up into thick waves. I lay down on the bed in my underwear and considered watching a movie. It wasn’t late; in fact, the taxi driver had thought we were going out, not heading back to the hotel. I was restless. I looked at the hotel brochure and read that they offered massages. I picked up the phone and called the front desk to ask if they were still open. Unfortunately, they were closed. I walked around the room a bit, opening drawers and flicking through the TV stations, then heard footsteps outside and muffled voices – it sounded like Keegan and Mick. I heard Mick suggesting they take me out, and Keegan’s gruff reply. Apparently, I wasn’t fun. In that instant, I then decided that there was absolutely no need for me to sit here all night. I was free and in one of the most wonderful cities in the world; if I didn’t go out and experience it, I would regret it.
In a parallel universe where Clover House hadn’t stolen our creation, I would be planning my trip to Europe and looking up places to go on at night, so why not take advantage of having Clover House pay for my trip and go out and create my own memories? As it was, I seemed to recall that Keegan had found me quite fun at the club. Fun enough to kiss me.
It took just a few minutes to pull on a pair of jeans and a top and enjoy the coolness of the flat pumps I slipped my feet into. I added a quick swish of dark eyeliner to the ‘barely there’ makeup that Beatrix had lectured me on, and then let my hair do what it liked. It sprang out all over the place, as if glad to be free. The doorman got me a taxi instantly, and I asked the driver where I should go to see Dublin at night. He nodded as though it was not a particularly original question and we set off. It was an embarrassingly short ride to Temple Bar, a quaint series of pubs and music venues, each full of voices, singing or music, and usually all three. Back at home, I would never have gone into a pub alone, but here, it seemed impossible that anyone would even notice me. I made my way to the bar and asked for water. The barman looked at me like I had asked for something illegal, but he gave me a glass of tap water and didn’t charge me.
I sat down on the edge of a group of seats, feeling uncomfortable at imposing on the noisy but cheerful group of women who were already sitting there. A tall brunette wearing a long checked shirt as a dress with a belt slung around it, turned to me.
“American?” she asked, and the group erupted into cheers when I nodded. “I knew it, I’m very good at spotting Americans.”
I had to laugh, and looked down at my clothes. “Am I that obvious?”
“No, but there were clues. First, you’re drinking water, and second, you are sitting there politely by yourself instead of joining us.”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose…” I began.
“Don’t be a dick,” she said. “Do you have a name?”
“Freya. A pleasure to meet you.” It felt good to be Freya again.
And so I joined the group and found that they were all art history students who had just finished their final exam and were celebrating. There were six of them, but there were as many conversations going on as people and I struggled to keep up. Someone bought me a pint of Guinness and I was surprised how much I liked it and how quickly I drank it. And then suddenly, everyone was getting up to leave. I tried to say goodnight to everyone, to thank them but Orla, the girl in the checked shirt, took my hand – my actual hand! – and explained that they weren’t ending the night, just moving on. And so we ended up in a second pub, and I found myself included in hugs from the various other groups who we met and in rigorous debates on various subjects, from art to celebrities.