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

Amidst a hue and cry, I exited the living room—and promptly stumbled over Dad, who was lurking in the hall.

‘Jesus!’ I yelped. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Has anyone any interest in what I think?’ he asked.

‘Are you not dead?’ Helen asked him. ‘Could have sworn…’

‘Come in here.’ Mum was watching him appraisingly. ‘Say your piece.’

Nervously, Dad stood in the middle of the good rug. ‘Their baby died, then they split up, so they never had a chance to talk about it.’ Helplessly, he let his hands drop and met my eyes. ‘People need to talk about things.’

‘You heard him, Rachel,’ Mum said. ‘Your poor father—’

‘—back from the dead—’ Helen threw in.

‘I’m not dead!’ he squeaked. ‘I’m the head of this family—’ The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a storm of laughter.

‘Thank you, Claire, thank you, Helen.’ I threw on my coat. ‘The rest of you, you’re insane and very mean. Bye.’

Breathless with hurt and fury, I flung myself into my car and headed for Quin’s.

*

Quin stared hard at me. ‘Last night you said you wouldn’t see him again. Twelve hours later, you spent half the day with him. Rachel? Should I…be worried?’

‘No. Not at all. Quin, can I try to explain? Since yesterday, all these feelings about Yara have suddenly come out of…wherever I’ve managed to stash them for the last six years. I’m grateful for the chance to talk about her.’

‘You can talk about her with me.’

‘I know. And that’s lovely of you.’ I was trying to find the right words and, at the same time, avoid hurting him. ‘But talking about her with the one other person who loved her like I did…’

‘I understand that,’ Quin admitted. ‘It’s just…’ Suddenly infuriated, he exclaimed, ‘I never get to feel sure of you.’

‘But you can! Quin, I haven’t done anything wrong.’

All of a sudden, he looked exhausted. My heart twisted with frustration, then softened with pity for him.

‘Just…’ His voice was weary. ‘If anything changes, be honest with me.’

‘It won’t change. I’m mad about you. We’re together.’ I love you hung in the air, unspoken. But to say it now, in response to his insecurity, would have felt wrong.

‘I’m completely serious,’ he said. ‘I can cope with anything except being lied to. “Protected from the truth” is the worst thing you could do to me. Even if you know you’re going to hurt me, I’d prefer the facts.’

‘Okay. But—’

‘Do you swear?’

‘Yes, but honestly, Quin—’

‘Let’s leave it there.’

56

It was something I kept to myself but I actually liked Mondays. My little ducklings were in such a process of constant change that it was exciting to sit in the Abbot’s Quarter and see what might have developed over the weekend.