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

‘Would you like anything?’ Quin nodded towards the café. ‘We had carrot cake.’

There was no popcorn or pick-n-mix, it wasn’t that sort of cinema. And it wasn’t that sort of night. The clientele were serious about their climbing, serious about their nutrition.

…Except for cake. I’d noticed that climbers liked cake. Although they only seemed to eat it with other climbers.

To my surprise, the movie was great.

‘Did you really like it?’ Golden asked, afterwards, in the Nepalese restaurant. ‘Or are you just saying it? To make us feel okay about you taking Embury’s ticket?’

I looked at Quin. ‘Did I…?’

‘This was booked weeks ago.’ He shrugged. ‘But I’m away tomorrow until Saturday, I wanted to see you tonight. He did me a favour.’

‘So obliging of Embury.’ I smiled at Golden, who sent daggers from her pale blue eyes. ‘Things off again with Prosser?’

Her face reddened. Although it was fairly red to begin with.

She looked like a weatherbeaten cat.

‘Fuck you,’ she muttered, which made me laugh.

Next to me, Quin shifted. ‘Don’t blame Rachel,’ he told Golden. ‘Blame me.’

‘Whatever. Shall we order?’

*

It was late by the time we got home and Quin and I were both relaxed and giggly. It would have been so easy to say nothing.

But that would have been all kinds of sneaky.

‘Quin, tomorrow night I’m meeting Luke.’ I spoke quickly. ‘The way we split up, the reason, he sees it differently to how I do. It would be good to…untangle it.’

After several moments of silence, he asked, ‘Is something going on?’

‘Not the way you mean. But—’

‘What if you “untangle” that you still love him?’

‘That’s not going to happen. But I’m hoping to get some peace.’

‘Rach?’ His tone was surprisingly scornful. ‘Something you should know: your ex-husband is just a man. An ordinary man that, despite how he treated you, you’ve idealized. I’ve met him and I can tell you he’s not a French sauce that’s been reduced and reduced until it’s…fucking…’ He waved his hands, searching for the right phrase. ‘…food of the gods. And I’m better than cheesy fries from Jo Burger. A lot better. I know it. I wish you did.’

‘I should never have said that, Quin. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Please forgive me.’ I felt breathless. ‘Maybe it was what I thought in our early days. But it was mean and stupid and wrong. Things are different now.’

‘What way?’

‘Well, they are. Aren’t they?’

‘Yeah. Whatever. Can we go to sleep now?’

He turned his back to me, then switched out the light.

61