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Her jaw tenses. She’s silent long enough I give up on hearing her answer. Maybe this will just be one of those things I’ll never know. I wave when we go past the corner store. Hot Face gives me a lopsided grin as he fixes the signage.

‘I hate people like you.’

Really? I couldn’t tell.

She sighs like admitting it is a great weight off her chest. I don’t understand why. It’s very plain to see. I don’t know anyone in a 90km radius that doesn’t know that Delilah hates me. Shit, even the sentient books in the library know to warn me when they see her coming my way.

Duck for cover! The vintage tomes cough and sputter.

‘Then why hire me?’ This is something that has genuinely perplexed me for a while now. Delilah isn’t in charge of the entire library, but as far I know, she pretty much runs the show on ground level. She could have just rejected me that first day I walked in.

‘Because you were miserable and pathetic.’

Right. Well. ‘Look, I won’t disagree with you there,’ I concede. ‘But I don’t think that’s it.’

‘But it is. I hired you, firstly, under threat from the angels. I had to hire someone, and you happened to walk in. But also, I kind of liked how real you were for a second there. You were honest. You were suffering and I thought for a second that maybe… I don’t know. But then you morphed into this snivelling, placating wimp.’ She motions to me with disgust. ‘And I can’t respect you, let alone like you.’

Not pulling her punches today then. That’s good to know.

‘I’m a bitch. I know that I’m a bitch. But at least I own it. You’re… well, you’re just not real.’

I frown. ‘I’m real.’ My defence is weak at best, and an omission at worst.

Delilah side-eyes me and huffs. ‘No. You’re not.’

Fine. Called out. I stare out the window as I mumble, ‘You are a bitch though, you’re right about that one.’

I hear a sort of coughing sound from beside me. Dare I believe thine eyes? Delilah’s lips pull into a lopsided grin.

‘Yeah, I am.’ But her eyes hold a very weighted sadness. A very specific kind that looks overwhelmingly familiar. I think back to what she said, and the phrase misery loves company swims in my head.

K

I grunt when I pull out the final lot of frames. I walk them over to where Lavender and Delilah are standing. And to my absolute disgust, Lavender is looking at the fae like she’s found her next conquest.

‘Oh, did you want some help with that?’ Lavender asks. After I’ve finished carrying everything out. Not that she could have assisted. She’s a tree. Delilah, however…

I place them down gently. Delilah looks like she’s ready to run, but I have other plans. I can practically feel horns growing through my forehead when I announce. ‘Actually, yes. I do require help. Delilah is staying.’

‘What?’

‘Oh, yay!’ Lav charms, twisting a lock of leaves and biting her lip.

‘You know what they say about many hands… and branches.’

‘I’m not—’ Delilah holds up her hand and begins backing away, like she’s fending off an attack.

‘That’s not what Gary said,’ I threaten. I think I see a little steam coming from the top of Delilah’s head. There’s a standoff between us for all of ten seconds before she stomps over to an ecstatic looking Lavender, who gives me a thumbs up.

‘Spiked hot choccy, anyone?’

‘So, the last dates were a bust? You could try again? Didn’t you say you and Walker are getting along now? He probably won’t bomb your dates again.’

The sun is setting on the treetops, and a few stray sunbeams find their way between the strands of Lavender’s branches. We’ve been at it for an hour now. And as it usually does, the conversation has devolved into subjects of love and lust. Because what more pressing issues could be worthy of expression between three women?

Maybe the rise in the cost of living, the disparaging divide between classes, feminism and equality, the homelessness rate…

‘You said he even made you coffee.’ She raises her eyebrows and bumps Delilah conspiratorially. Delilah does not enjoy physical contact. It makes no sense whatsoever that even though she frowns every time Lavender gets a little too close, she doesn’t move away.