“The Library? That’s a kink club, right?” I ask.
Hendrix flicks his stare over me. “Oh, so Rory’s told you about it?”
“Briefly. He said you work there, Stefan?”
Stefan nods.
“And the rest of us are members,” Hendrix says. “It’s a shame you can’t come along one night while you’re here. I think you’d find it enlightening.” His eyes light up as he speaks.
“It’s probably too adventurous for me,” I admit.
“You prefer vanilla?”
“Huh?”
“It’s one way of referring to non-kinky sex,” Stefan explains. “It’s plain, like vanilla ice cream.”
“No,” Hendrix interjects. “It’s boring, like vanilla ice cream.”
“I like vanilla ice cream,” I say.
He laughs. “I bet you do. But you never know. You might also like a more interesting flavour. All you have to do is try.” He puts his finger in his mouth and sucks it like it’s covered in ice cream.
I’m not sure what to say, especially as my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. My phone starts to ring, halting—or at least pausing—the conversation. My heart skips as I see Niamh’s name on the screen. I take a deep breath and accept her call.
“Niamh. Is everything okay?”
“As okay as it can be when something the size of a melon wants to squeeze its way out of me.”
“You’re in labour.”
Hendrix and Stefan try to look busy. Hendrix with the calendar, Stefan with selecting coffee. If I weren’t distracted by Niamh, I’d be gawping at the sheer number of packets of coffee beans in Stefan’s cupboard.
“Yes,” Niamh replies. “I have been for a few hours.”
“Why didn’t you call earlier?”
“There was no point in getting in touch until I was admitted to the hospital. But now I need you. Will you come, please?”
“Of course.” I make a mental note of the hospital’s name as she tells it to me. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”
“Ice cream?”
I almost choke. Her request couldn’t have been timelier, considering my conversation with Hendrix and Stefan.
“Are you okay?” Niamh asks.
“It’ll probably melt,” I manage. “The ice cream, I mean.”
Hendrix smirks.
“It was a joke,” Niamh says.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and remind myself that Niamh is in pain and therefore has every right to be tetchy. “I’ll bring chocolate.”
“You’re amazing. Thanks.” Niamh hangs up.
I turn the hob off. “I have to go.”
