After a long shower Clara headed downstairs to find that Alex had already prepared breakfast and also to find Amy sitting in the kitchen in front of a huge mug of coffee. She and Alex were laughing and Clara prayed to God that it wasn't about what she had told her friends last night.
“Hey,” she greeted Amy warily, “What are you doing here? Why aren't you at home, tending to your hangover?”
“I just wanted to see if you got home alright,” Amy replied. She looked way too happy for the amount of tequila they had both consumed the night before.
Alex exchanged looks with both of them. “So the second plate was Martha's. I'd have thought it was you, Amy.”
“What?” Amy asked in confusion, “No, Martha and I went home together. Clara was just gone from the club all of a sudden. We were worried.”
“I called you on my way home,” Clara said and went over to the counter, busying herself with the coffee maker, “I told you I was fine.”
“If you went home alone,” Alex began and Clara hoped he wouldn't finish his question, “Then why were there two cups and plates?”
It seemed as if she was out of luck today.
“How did you get home so quickly anyway? We waited almost two hours for our taxi because of some event in the city.”
“Because I didn't call a taxi, I called John,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-factly as she grabbed her mug and went to sit on the table next to them.
“John?” Alex asked immediately, “Our neighbour John? Why on earth would you call him?”
Clara took a sip from her coffee, stalling. She had never told Alex anything about John at all. Amy seemed to have sensed her tension because she was slowly rising from her chair.
“I think I better get going,” she said, “Rory will be home soon. He forgot his keys. Don't want to make him wait in front of the house.”
As soon as her friend had left however, Alex' attention was immediately back on the last question.
“So, want to explain to me why you called our neighbour to pick you up from a night out with your friends?” he asked, the tone of his voice sharp, but not angry. He seemed curious more than anything.
“Because John and I are friends,” Clara said simply.
“Since when?”
“I guess since the beginning. He's really nice. He went with me to the dance lesson on Monday, I actually learned a few things,” she explained, sipping her coffee.
Alex wrinkled his forehead. “You took him? Why? I thought you'd take Amy or Martha or anyone, I didn't think you'd take our middle aged neighbour.”
“I took him because he can actually dance. And I told you – we are friends.”
“Should I be worried?” he asked out of the blue and Clara only snorted in reply, “Don't you tell me that's a silly question. You're obviously spending quite some time with another man and you never told me about that. I have the right to ask.”
He actually had. And maybe he should actually be worried. But Clara wasn't going to tell him that, not after John had made it so very clear the previous night that there would never be anything between them.
“There is nothing to worry about,” Clara reassured him, “Like I said, we're friends. That's it.”
“May I say that I still think it's odd? What could you possibly have in common with him?”