In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

46. The Syntax of Things

"I'm not Freddie's girl," I whispered shakily, emotions rising again. Veronica looked at her husband.

"This is Julia," John said. "And she's had a rather bad time."

"So I see," Veronica murmured. She took my hand then and led me down the hall. "I'm Veronica. Come on, you poor thing, take those clothes off, we'll dry them out, in the meantime I've got a dressing gown that should fit you all right."

"Thank you," I replied numbly. "I'd like that."

Veronica took me into the master bedroom and laid a finger against her lips. "Just to let you know, Robert's- that's our little boy, you know- he's asleep, and he's across the hall, so-"

"I'll be quieter than a mouse," I nodded. "How old is he?"

"Nearly two years," she answered, closing the door.

"I'm sure he's darling."

"A handful sometimes, but never too much of one. He's a love."

"You guys must be wonderful parents."

"We try." Veronica had nice dimples when she smiled.

After that, both of us ladies were silent as she helped me out of my cold, soaked clothes and handed me her robe to put on.

"What were you doing out in the rain at ten o'clock anyway?" she asked softly.

I tied the belt of the robe. "I don't know."

"Mm," she hummed with a nod, looking none-too-convinced, but she didn't press.

"I'm really sorry about this," I managed, feeling my throat tighten up again. "As soon as my clothes are dry, I'll go."

"At least stay till the rain stops," she said, smiling. "It'll save you a trip back here."

"Thank you," I breathed. "You guys... you and John are so nice... Thank you so much..."

Veronica could see I was about to break down again, so she rushed over to the nightstand and plucked a handkerchief out of the drawer. She put it in my hands and said, very quietly, "If you need to talk about it, whatever it is, you're in a safe place. All right?"

I bit my lip. "I don't want to bother you with-"

"Hush, hush. This is about Freddie. I can already tell. And I want you to know, you can talk here. We don't blab. Secrets are safe with us."

I stared at her, uncertain if the Deacons were not in fact angels on Earth. "Can I give you a hug, please?"

She laughed and nodded, let me throw my arms around her neck. John knocked on the door of the bedroom, saying, "You girls decent in there?"

"Yes, we're coming out," she said, and opened the door. "Come on, let's talk. Would you like a drink?"

"Oh, yes," I whispered. "Vodka if you have it, please. I just need to go wash my face, one second."

I barely knew John and Veronica at that time, but from that moment on, these two people became the best friends I've ever had. Looking back now, I believe they saved me from making a terrible decision, because when John found me, I was a step away from throwing myself into the Thames, never to resurface again. I love them. And I hope they love me, because I personally don't know what I would do without them today.

Once I'd washed away the black smears under my eyes, and my face looked like my face again, I came back out to sit with my first real friends. Not acquaintances, like the rest of the world, and not friends-plus-sexual attraction, like Freddie used to be; but real friends. It was wonderful.