Free Flesh by Richard Laymon Page B

you, but…”
    “I think his grand play is to ignore me.”
    Celia, lying on the sofa, pulled the stereo headphones off her ears and said, “Am I missing something?”
    “Alison’s getting anxious.”
    “So call the guy,” she advised.
    “I can’t do that.”
    “She can’t do that,” Helen repeated. “She’s laid down the terms. The next move is up to Evan.”
    Groaning, Celia eased her feet off the sofa and sat up.
    “You don’t want to just sit around all day hoping he’ll call,” she told Alison. “You need to do something to take your mind off him. I need to get out, myself.”
    “Try going to your two o’clock,” Helen said.
    “That seminar’s the shits. Besides, it’s been three weeks since my last cut. I need a break. Especially after yesterday.”
    “We told you you’d be sorry,” Helen said, “signing up for a Friday afternoon class.”
    “Take a hike.” She looked at Alison. “How about we go over to the mall?”
    Alison liked the idea. “Are you up to something like that?”
    “A walk’ll do me good, get the kinks out.”
    “How about it, Helen?” Alison asked. “Want to come along?”
    “Nah.”
    “Come on,” Alison urged her. “You’re turning into a hermit.”
    “I had three damn classes this morning. How does that make me a hermit?” She got up and went to the window. “Anyway, it’s going to rain.”
    “What’s a little rain,” Alison said.
    “Besides, I’d have to change back into something.”
    “Aw, go as you are,” Celia told her.
    Helen turned around and looked down at herself as if considering Celia’s suggestion. She was wearing a housedress that looked like an old tablecloth, complete with food stains. She fastened a snap that had come loose between her heavy breasts. “I guess, if I keep my raincoat on…”
    “Get serious,” Celia said.
    “I’ll just stay here.”
    “No, come on,” Alison said. “You don’t want to spend all afternoon cooped up in the house. If you wear your raincoat,nobody’ll know what you’ve got on. The dress isn’t so bad, anyway.”
    Helen looked at Celia.
    “I don’t care. Wear whatever you want. Let’s just get going.”
    “I’ll just be a minute,” Alison said.
    As she headed for the hallway, she heard Celia say, “For godsake, at least put on some underpants. You fall on your ass, you’ll be flashing beaver.”
    Helen’s response, if any, was inaudible.
    Smiling, Alison began to climb the stairs to her attic room. The staircase had barely enough light to see the steps, so she ran her hand along the banister as she hurried to the top. Her room was not much brighter than the staircase. Not bothering with a lamp, she stepped over to the single window and looked out.
    Pretty gloomy out there, all right. A storm was certainly on the way, but she guessed that it might hold off for a while.
    It’ll probably start up, she thought, just in time to catch me walking to Gabby’s.
    She could get a ride from Evan. He’d be glad to…
    She remembered. The hollow ache came back.
    What have I done?
    It’s okay, she told herself. It’s okay. If he’s through with me over something like this, fine.
    She crossed the small room to her dresser and took out her blue jumpsuit. The one-piece, velour outfit would feel soft and cozy, perfect for this kind of weather. Getting into it would be the problem. She had turned the heater off before leaving for her morning classes, and the room was chilly.
    As fast as she could, she jerked her flannel shirt over her head, flipped off her slippers, tugged her jeans down her legs, kicked the jeans away, stepped into the jumpsuit and pulled it up. Shivering, she thrust her arms into its sleeves. She raised the zipper to her neck, and sighed with relief as the chill was shut out.
    Quickly, she put on a pair of wool socks and stepped intoher sneakers. Then, she snatched her windbreaker from the closet, grabbed the strap of her shoulder bag, and hurried downstairs.
    Helen, waiting in