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

‘It’s not your fault.’ He gathered me to him, but not before I’d seen the flatness in his eyes.

*

Then came the funeral. Luke in a suit. That tiny white coffin. Luke reading the heartbreaking poem.

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you planned.

I didn’t know how I could feel such pain and still be alive.

*

Everyone reacted in different ways to Yara’s non-arrival. Some ghosted me—only one woman from my antenatal group got in touch. Others, people I barely knew, tried to invite themselves round, and offered tone-deaf platitudes when I stalled them.

Deliveries kept arriving at the apartment—elderflower lemonade, boxes of fancy teas, pastries, cool-crates of ice-cream. My colleagues in Hope House had a tree planted in Yara’s memory. The Real Men—a sizeable number if you added up all those on the C, D, E and F Lists—donated a hefty chunk of cash to a children’s charity.

The best people asked, ‘Can you bear to see anyone? Just say no if you can’t.’ And I always said no.

No matter how kind anyone was, the fact remained that our tragedy had plucked Luke and me from the scrum and set us down on an uninhabited island, where people could see us but never visit.

We were the ones who had taken the hit in order to spare others, as if there were only so many tragedies to go round. People were grateful to us but they were also afraid to get too close, in case the bad luck was catching.

52

Then I stopped sleeping.

The night before what would have been my due date, I was imagining everything that would have been going on, if we hadn’t been so unlucky: my waters breaking, preferably in some movie-worthy moment—perhaps on the train home from work?—my contractions starting; the mad dash to the hospital with Luke; the joyous innocence of it all. Even the pain would have been glorious! Me sweating and yelling, Luke encouraging me, the medical staff fluttering in and out doing their checks—and eventually the thrilling miracle of a new life entering the world.

All night long, my head raced with what-might-have-beens and when Luke woke in the morning, I hadn’t been to sleep, not even for half an hour.