Goodbye Ruby Tuesday by A. L. Michael Read Free Book Online Page A

make the earring hole?’
    ‘I doubt it,’ Mollie sighed, looking for a distraction from the conversation, ‘Look Ez, the market!’
    Eventually, they found the little side street that led to the courtyard, the street sign reading ‘Camden Square’. They pulled up on the pavement, taking in the large houses surrounding the trees clustered in a little square, edging the bedraggled lawn in the centre. It was pretty but unkempt, which Evie found comforting.
    The building was Victorian, whitewashed with purple flowers arching across it. The main feature was a huge red door with delicate gold filigree flower patterns repeating over and over. It had a faintly Chinese look, and stood out next to the pretty, but very proper, houses that surrounded it.
    Esme let out a low whistle, her eyes wide. ‘Is this it?
This
is where we’re going to live?’
    ‘Doesn’t look dingy,’ Evie shrugged, reaching for the key.
    ‘Let’s get inside before we assess that,’ Mollie said, pursing her lips.
    Evie got out the huge, ancient key that had been sitting in the envelope Ruby gave them, a red satin ribbon threaded through the top. It was almost a joke – the key looked like it belonged to a secret garden somewhere, not an old studio.
    The lock clicked heavily, and Evie pushed on the door, which was lighter than expected and squeaked slightly. The room was cool and dark, and the sight that greeted them wasn’t unpleasant. The room was large, painted white with dark hardwood floors. Evelyn had said it used to be a photography studio, and Ruby apparently hadn’t done much to change it. Photographs from the original owner were still hung up, marginally dusty but beautiful nonetheless – black and white prints of classy women, the glitz and glamour of martini glasses and cigarette smoke; the men with hair slicked back, raising a knowing eyebrow at the camera. It made Evie a little homesick for a time before her own.
    The room was bare, except for a maroon chaise longue in the corner on top of a black, fluffy rug. It had very little natural light, only two windows, but it was bright and friendly enough.
    To Evie, it hummed with possibility. If she squinted, she could see people lounging with books, sitting up intently during workshops, making things. She could visualise yoga mats on the floor, or a row of little sour-faced ballerinas reacting to Chelsea’s stern guidance. If Chelsea even wanted to be involved; it hadn’t really been clear. Evie had the distinct feeling that Chelsea didn’t want them here, like her London life was separate and special, and there wasn’t enough room for everyone to achieve their dreams in the capital. Evie shook the thoughts away and turned to Esme, who was frowning at a picture of a pouting blonde with smoke escaping from between dark, luscious lips.
    ‘What do you think, kid?’
    ‘It’s… okay.’
    Evie frowned, and Mollie shrugged.
    ‘I think the books should go by the funny sofa,’ Esme said soberly, before launching herself across the room and jumping on the chaise longue. She let out a squeak as she bounced. ‘Not as soft as it looks!’
    They wandered into the kitchen, which led through to a conservatory, sunlight streaming in through the old vines that twisted up against the glass like a desperate lover. The heat was stifling, but the bright fuchsia flowers in the overgrown garden made the whole thing feel like a glass orb slowly being reclaimed by nature.
    ‘Can’t you see people having afternoon tea in here?’ Evie grinned at Mollie, ‘Or wine, maybe listening to some poetry or live music?’
    She could see it, clear as anything, but somehow the dream felt a little too vivid, almost scary in its possibility. But this was for Ruby, and they weren’t going to run.
    ‘It’s like a greenhouse.’ Mollie pulled at the neck of her t-shirt, ‘But yes, if we get some fans, or find a way to ventilate it, I can’t see why not. The kitchen is pretty workable too.’
    They walked back