BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

‘What do you think?’ Quin finished. ‘She just checking Rachel out?’

‘Sounds like it,’ Adam said. ‘How many times did she mention the burst condom?’

‘Once,’ I said.

‘Felt like lots more,’ Quin said. ‘Swear to God, I thought she was going to get it out of her bag and show us.’

‘Quin!’ I gave him a playful shove. ‘You just decided you didn’t like her. But she’s lovely.’

‘Seriously?’ Claire asked.

‘She’s warm. Really warm. And lots of fun. You can tell.’

‘And is she…?’ Claire looked at Quin. ‘Hot?’

‘Oh God, yeah. Not as hot as you, Claire, but yeah, hot.’

The pair of them smirked at each other. It was good that my boyfriend got on with my sister. But sometimes they annoyed me…

‘Why is she still in Ireland?’ Claire asked. ‘Doesn’t she have a job to go back to?’

‘Her partner’s mum has just died. She’s being supportive.’ But I’d wondered that too.

‘Tell me her name.’ Claire was already on Instagram, where earlier I’d done a deep dive. ‘Oh my God, it’s all a bit “Me and My Hot Man”!’

In fairness to Kallie, she had never actually posted the words ‘Me and My Hot Man’. But in any photo with Luke, it was implied.

For example, a sidelong shot of Luke, busy at a cooker, frying pan in hand, a tea towel hanging from his jeans pocket, was captioned “Nothing tastes as good as…what I get from this guy”. Followed by salivating emojis, winking emojis, then several hearts of different colours.

Kallie was fond of emojis.

But so was I.

Apparently, it was our age.

‘She goes…horse-riding?’ Claire was scanning Kallie’s grid, the many shots of her, slender and gorgeous in jeans, a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat, flanked by a horse, standing around in glaring sunlight, their shadows short on the sunbaked ground. ‘Yeah, I guess it’s on brand.’

Then, Claire exclaimed, ‘Oh, HAI!’ She’d found the horsey shots that featured Luke. Contrasting with Kallie, Luke was often caught unawares or was deliberately avoiding the camera. There was one really beautiful photo where the brim of his hat cast a shadow over most of his face, except for his smile.

‘You didn’t say Kallie’s a singer!’ Claire was doing more clicking.

This fact I found quite humiliating. A singer-songwriter who did actual gigs to paying customers was a more high-status identity than an addiction counsellor. Luke had definitely traded up.

‘Folksy pop. Acoustic guitar.’ Quin was dismissive. ‘She either does covers of Doobie Brothers’ ballads or her own stuff, which is all a bit “2012 Taylor Swift called, she wants her identity back”.’