Just Alice ✓

5.

Closing the door on his way out, Thomas rested his back against the frosted glass of the door and squeezed his eyes shut. The door seemed to burn through the back of his shirt, reminding him of what he'd left behind. Taking a cleansing breath, he walked back towards the living room only to stop dead in his tracks as his gaze stuck to the little space above Alice's front door. Two stuffed flamingos were mounted on the wall from where they seemed to glare down at him.

"Thomas, are you ok?" Linton's tone suggested that he was a little worried.

Shaking his head and turning in the direction of the kitchen, Thomas answered, "She has stuffed flamingos over her front door."

There was a short pause before Linton asked quietly, "If I relate this to the poster and the doors then this could be-"

"I know Linton," he stopped his friend before the words could be said out loud.

It is said that when one is afraid of something, they make up explanations which help them make sense of things. Those explanations may or may not be true but they help out the person's mind at ease. Thomas had seen enough to understand that there was something strange about his neighbour but there was that little part of him that he hadn't paid much attention to which had found an interest in the quirky girl. Before leaving this house, he wanted to make sure to squash that part.

He could see the kitchen archway from where he stood and debated going in to see if there was more. He could easily climb out of the window and escape. He could pretend this never happened. However, there would be a part of him that would always make excuses for the girl he wasn't even close to understanding. So with a deep breath he entered the kitchen, saying farewell to all caution.

The inside was spotless, without a single thing out of place except for a single cookbook that lay open on the counter. He went over to it and discovered that it was a self made book with extremely curvy handwriting. He flipped through the pages, skimming the words until suddenly something registered and he went back to the front. Slowly turning the pages, he found out that he had assumed correctly.

On each and every page was a recipe probably collected from somewhere else but each and every recipe had one common ingredient. A mushroom.

He closed the book before remembering that it was open when he had arrived so he arranged it properly in its original state and turned around only to stop once more. "What have we got so far?" His voice was calmer than he had anticipated it would be.

"Er... Fascination with a children's story, strange interior inclinations and you mentioned perfectionism, I think," Linton recited dutifully.

"Add obsession with mushrooms to that list," Thomas reported back then sighed and looked at the shelves in front of him again. There were jars upon jars of several sizes all arranged neatly with handwritten labels over them. All samples of mushrooms put on display like trophies. "She's got a mushroom display which I'm currently staring at and I just finished looking through a mushroom centered cookbook."

"Woah, food preference's wacky too," Linton said as if cataloging the information.

Thomas looked around, spotting the refrigerator in the corner. His conscience was literally screaming at him to leave but he couldn't, not when he was standing in the middle of more incriminating evidence. He moved towards the refrigerator and hesitated a little. His good breeding and morals were warring with his insatiable curiosity. Steeling himself, he wrenched the door open and gaped at the contents.

Hearing the loud sound, Linton exclaimed in panic, "What did you just do?"

Taking a good look at the various slices of cake that decorated the insides, Thomas shut the door more forcefully than he meant to. "Nothing. Just opened her fridge."